Authors Note
"Happy Birthday, Ash!"
"Aw, mama, you didn't have to get me anything!" I laughed, as my mom handed me a small grey box wrapped in black ribbon.
"Don't be silly, it's your birthday!" she said, smiling at me, and she slowly stepped back to watch me open my present.
"And besides, this is a family heirloom. And, we wanted you to have it. It's a very important item." My step-mom said, winking as she went to stand by my mom, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. I looked down at the box in my hand, giddy with excitement. I slowly unwound the ribbon, tucking it in my hand for a moment, before removing the lid of the box. I gasped, as I slid the small ring inside from its nest of cotton.
"Oh my god, it's beautiful!" I exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear, turning the smooth, thick banded silver ring over in my hand. It had a large black onyx stone set in its center, with designs that looked ancient, like something from before the first rebellion. I slipped it over my ring finger on my left hand, holding it out to admire my new jewelry.
"Aw, thanks guys!" I said, as they pulled me in for a hug. It lasted for only a moment, before my moms pulled away abruptly, their eyes wide with fear, sights cast through the window behind me. I turned to see a sleek military vehicle pull up to our house, and I watched as the side door slid open, revealing a team of Peacekeepers, in their menacing white armor. My mothers tried to flee to the back door, pulling me along, when the door burst down, and the Peacekeepers were on them in an instant. I was yanked away from them, my arms held painfully behind my back, and I was violently shoved to my knees. I screamed at them to let them go, as two Peacekeepers placed guns to their heads. I screamed louder, but my screams were cut off when one of the men bashed me over the head with his baton, and I slumped, blood running down the side of my head, my vision going blurry and white. The Peacekeepers blew my mothers brains out, and I struggled to remain conscious, unable to scream, as I was dragged out the front door. My mothers' bodies fell to the ground, the wall behind them sprayed with blood and brain matter, and I struggled to not vomit. Tears streamed down my face and everything was hurting as I was brutally dragged out the front door. I looked around me, at a wall of Peacekeepers keeping a small crowd of people back. Two figures pushed through just enough for me to see their faces, and the last thing I saw before losing consciousness, was my boyfriend and best friend screaming my name.
"Ash?" A voice said, snapping me out of my sudden flashback, and I turned towards the source of the voice.
"Sorry Drew, spaced out for a moment. What were you saying?" I answered, meeting eyes with my brother, Drew Balthas. I had gone to live with Drew and his parents three years ago, and in that time, he had proven to be more than a foster brother, and was my closest friend, and you would have thought we had been siblings my whole life. I had chosen to limit interactions with any other person, including Drew's mother and father, and in return, everyone, including his parents, chose to ignore me right back, which was more than perfect for me. Drew was a year younger than me, but was well over 6 inches taller than me, with a strong and sturdy build, sandy blond hair, and dark blue eyes.
"I just asked where you got that ring, and then you got this really shocked look on your face, and kind of just stared at it. I've always been curious, but I've been too nervous to ask, you and your dark and mysterious ways." He said, and grinned at the last part, punching me in the shoulder jokingly. I chuckled a little, before clearing my throat, growing serious again.
"It was a gift." I said firmly, and he nodded, understanding enough to know it was a sore subject.
"I have another question now. Can we continue walking? Mom will kill me if I'm late for the reaping." He said, gesturing down the street ahead, and I nodded again, a smirk coming to my face.
"Yeah, sorry."
We started walking again, falling into pace with the crowd of people around us who were also making their way to Town Square. Today was Reaping Day, the day the tributes were chosen to compete in this year's Hunger Games. Usually, this day brought excitement and a reason to celebrate, but this year would be different than a usual year. This year that excitement was replaced with apprehension and dread, because this year was the 5th Annual Decade Duel, and not even District 1, the most successful district by far, would be looking forward to such a dark day.
We walked in silence, past all of the familiarities, of downtown District 1, until we reached the main plaza known as Town Square. I turned to Drew, and our gazes were solemn and sincere. Being of the ages we were, the odds were not quite in our favor, as our names would be entered in more times than the younger kids this year. Since the 2nd rebellion, the number of times a person's name could be entered in the reaping was raised substantially, and the youngest age to be able to enter was lowered. Now, you only had to be 11 to be entered into the reaping pool, with one entry when you were eleven, and then every year, instead of one entry being added, three were added. 11 year olds had one entry, 12 year olds had 4 entries, 13 year olds had 7, and etc. My name would be in that bowl 19 times, while Drew's would only be in there 16 times.
We entered the square, standing in line with the other kids to get signed in, and I looked around at the other girls nearby. Many of them had cute, simple dresses on, their hair done up or in perfect ringlet curls, and I knew that many would definitely be mistaking me for one of the boys. My hair was as short as the boys, still wet from my shower this morning, combed and neatly done, and I was dressed in a black button up formal shirt with dark grey slacks. I caught a glimpse of myself in a nearby shop window, and for a moment, didn't recognize who I was looking at. Just 4 years ago, I would have looked the same as any other girl, my black brown hair in gentle waves down my back, a dress just as cute as theirs, my makeup done, probably by my step-mother. But now, I wasn't even the same person on the inside either, my perkiness and cheery attitude replaced with cold sarcasm and seclusion. Drew was dressed in similar apparel, in a light blue button up shirt and beige slacks.
We stepped up to the sign in table, and once we were in and accounted for, Drew started to walk away. I put a hand on his shoulder and he turned around, a look of slight confusion on his face. He knew I wasn't usually one for human contact. I took a deep breath and squeezed his shoulder.
"Good luck, little bro." I said, offering an earnest smile, and he smiled back.
"You too." And with that, we parted ways.
I walked down the main aisle to the front of the group, since the oldest kids were put in the front, the younger ones towards the back, and since I was 17, my group was second from the front. I stared straight ahead, replacing my sincerity I showed around Drew with my cold anger. I stepped into the girls' section, receiving many strange looks from everyone who thought I was a boy, but with a sort of envied respect, my reputation as the head of my class in the training academy shying away their judgmental looks. I was the most prepared to compete out of all of the students in my age group, and everyone knew that. I was a cold-blooded killer when I needed to be, and I was constantly striking fear into people's eyes. Good, I thought. They needed to fear me.
Slowly, the square filled with people, children and teenagers reluctantly shuffling their feet into their designated sections. The usually bustling and busy plaza was now quiet and serious, and the fancy shops and stores were dark, their doors locked and shut. The large fountain in the middle that usually gurgled and bubbled cheerily was shut off, and its stone surfaces were pale and dry. It was a nice day, but the dreary atmosphere of today made even the blue skies seem washed out.
Suddenly, the doors of the Justice Building opened, and out came the Mayor and his wife, both of whose names I never cared to remember, the Head Peacekeeper, and our districts Capitol escort, Versavyus Krillam. The Head Peacekeeper was a woman who was all angles and edges, with straight black hair and piercing steel grey eyes. Our escort was definitely a sight to behold, and I stifled a chuckle. He had fiery red hair that was swept up to imitate flames, but it really just made him look like an idiot. He had on an angled, crimson jacket with metallic orange swirls and flower designs, a ruffled yellow shirt underneath unbuttoned to reveal his chest, and bright metallic gold pants that seemed a few sizes too small. His eyes were shadowed in black, gold, and red, and his lips were painted scarlet red and black, with gold lip liner.
"Welcome, welcome, District 1!" He sung out, and this time I did laugh outright, much to the shock of my surrounding peers, at the sheer flamboyance of his voice.
"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds, be ever in your favor!" He finished, clapping his hands in childish excitement, his voice thick with the Capitol accent.
"Now, before we choose our lucky tributes, I have a special video to celebrate this year's Decade Duel, courtesy of President Fern!" His giggles were drowned out by the sudden blaring of the Capitol anthem, and I bristled, preparing for the amount of bullshit that would soon be bombarding my ears.
"Order. Peace. Unity. These are what the country of Panem was created to uphold. To end the bloodshed and war that plagued our lands and people. But the people revolted, against the benevolent future we had prepared for them, leading to the first Rebellion. The price they paid came at the cost of thousands and thousands of precious lives, the lives of those who resisted against our mighty rule, those who were misguided, thinking our ways dark and evil. But the Capitol prevailed, and the first rebellion was ended, peace once again ruled the land. To remind us to never forget the darkness that had been wrought, the Hunger Games were enacted, a pageant of honor and sacrifice in which one brave man and woman would be selected to represent their district in a fight to the death, resulting in one lone Victor, who would be rewarded in riches in fame. However, the darkness still remained, and once again, the foolish people rebelled. This time, we were prepared, and they were soon extinguished. We knew then that we needed a stricter reminder."
During this, they showed footage and filming of the rebellions, and most importantly, Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, and her eminent downfall, and the Capitol in all of its glory. At this point however, President Fern herself appeared on the screen, her cat like grin piercing all who watched.
"Greetings, Districts. Today marks the 50th anniversary of our victory against the uprising, and with it, the 5th Annual Decade Duel." She said, her yellow eyes gleaming maliciously, her long silver hair tied up in an outrageous style on top of her head. Her face was young, she looked just into her mid-20's, but everyone knew she was almost 90, kept young by the Capitol's magic medicine. An Avox stepped into view then, setting a glittering jeweled box on the table in front of our president. Fern's long, thin fingers gingerly opened the box, and after just a second, produced a small, cream-colored envelope. Fern broke the wax seal, and slipped a thick card from the envelope. She cleared her throat, grinning wider as she read her voice clear and loud, and I felt my heart suddenly pick up speed, growing nervous as she read out our fate.
"This year's Decade Duel, is a reminder that the sheer number of casualties during the uprising was by their hand and their hand alone. Therefore, to honor those great numbers lost, each district will offer up four tributes, instead of two. 2 young men and 2 young women will compete, however, only one man and woman will be drawn. The other two must be chosen by the drawn tributes, by their respective gendered tributes." She said, as she set down the square and looked into the camera into the soul of every person in that square.
"Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds, be ever in your favor." And the screen cut off, the square silent with the collectively held breath by all of District 1. Friends and foes looked back and forth, wondering if they would have the nerve or the courage to pit one another against each other. My breath caught in my throat. Four from each district, meant that there would be 48 tributes in the Arena.
"Now, as always, ladies first!" Versavyus blurted, interrupting our silence, stunning everyone back to attention. He flounced over to the large glass orb full of names, pausing to glance eagerly inside. His hand went in, barely rifling around, before swiping up an unlucky name. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I clenched and unclenched my fists, flexing my jaw in nervousness. It was strange, the emotions running through me as Versavyus strode across the stage, returning to the microphone. I was terrified, but somehow, not that my name might be drawn. There was a feeling growing in the pit of my stomach, a feeling that whatever was about to happen, my life would never be the same.
"Tarryn Risk!" He shouted enthusiastically, but with that revelation, the feeling only grew stronger. My heart froze as a cry of despair rang out through the plaza, and I turned, to see a man and woman holding each other crying, the woman shaking in the man's arms. Then, the name connected to a face, and I recognized the couple as the town florist, their shop a common stop of my foster mother.
"Tarryn, come up here dear!" Versavyus persisted, and to my undoubted horror, I glanced back to see a small head bobbing in the 11 year old section, and a small, timid girl with tears running down her face walk into the aisle. She was sniffling, as she slowly made her way up to the stage, eventually passing by me.
The only thought I had in my head before I was shoving my way through my own section, was Oh HELL no, my fury willing my feet forward. I violently shoved through the last few girls, running up to the girl, shielding her behind me.
"I VOLUNTEER!" I bellowed, seething in rage. It disgusted me that such innocent children had to be a part of this, and I wasn't about to let an 11 year old go and get herself killed in that Arena. The little girl looked up at me, her eyes wide in shock.
"Well, it looks like we have a volunteer!" Versavyus shouted, and he was basically hopping with glee. It was disgusting. I turned to the girl, softening my face for her.
"It's alright now. Run back to your mother and father." I whispered, gently placing my hand on her trembling shoulder. Her tears changed from fear to joy, and she nodded her head rapidly, running down the aisle to her parents, the ribbon on the back of her dress flapping behind her. I embraced, and I nodded at them, their faces bursting with gratitude, and the father mouthed a silent thank you. I turned to face the stage, my eyes narrowed in indignation. I strode forward, my feet making barely any noise on the smooth pavement, all eyes on me. I walked up the steps, and when Versavyus tried to put his hands on my shoulders to lead me to the microphone, I grabbed his hand in midair, glaring at him with every ounce of anger I had, and he paled.
"So, what is your name?" He almost stuttered, trying to regain his composure.
"Ash. Ash Maytham." I said, using my actual last name, instead of Drew's, and I heard some muttering from the crowd. My voice was empty of emotion, except for the sting of my anger.
"Alright, now you must choose your fellow female tribute!" He exclaimed, regaining his excitement, and I bent close to the microphone.
"Daen Kathel" I said, clearly and loudly, and I saw the girls blond head make her way through the 18 year old section, and I watched her as she came up the steps. If I was going into this, I was giving myself a good team, or, should things go awfully, somebody who wouldn't mind killing me. She was the top of her class in her age group, and was a fierce competitor. I had fought her a few times, the students in my class too easy, and she was definitely a very skilled fighter, and she put up an equal fight. I liked her, but she would be easy to kill. The girl, with her shimmering blonde hair hopped up the steps, a grim smile on her face. I turned to her, and we reached a secret agreement. Looks like I made my first ally, I thought.
"Now shake hands, good sportsmanship is important!" Versavyus said, and we shook hands firmly, looking into each other's eyes. Hers were an almost aqua color, not quite green, but not quite blue either.
"Yay! Now for the boys!" Versavyus exclaimed, as he pranced to the boys' orb. His hand dove into the orb, digging and digging until finally pulling one out.
"Drew Balthas!" He called out, and the growing tension in my stomach released, and a pang of pain hit my chest.
SHIT.
The one person I would have preferred to not kill.
His head emerged from his section, and he strode down the aisle, his face stressed and nervous. He hopped the steps, and before Versavyus could even say anything, spoke into the microphone.
"Xavier Axel." He said, and one look was all I needed to know that he had the same mindset as me. Before being told to, I reached out, shaking Drew's hand, as the last tribute climbed the steps. Xavier was also the best of his class for the boys, and was a killing-crazed machine. He was by far the most lethal out of all of us, and could kill somebody with anything he could get his hands on. He had brown hair and brown eyes, with a tall and extremely muscular build, and would be very hard to kill. We all exchanged more handshakes, as Versavyus took to the microphone again.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, your District 1 tributes!" And with that, we were lead into the Justice Building, ushered by a group of Peacekeepers, and as the large wooden doors shut us inside, the timers on our lives began.