(A/N: Hello! Here is chapter nine! Enjoy! Also, as for the Reaping date, I sort of just made an educated guess, so...yeah.)

CHAPTER NINE

It is roughly two in the morning when I am woken up by the slight, yet noticeable creaking of my bedroom door. My heart suddenly races as I see a silhouette cross the wall.

"Willow?" comes a small feeble voice.

"Asher?" I ask drowsily. My brother hesitantly comes into view. "What are you doing up?"

He crawls into bed beside me, wriggling himself under the sheets. "I had a bad dream." he whines pitifully. "Can you sing?"

Singing is my mother's thing, not mine; but, if he insists...

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow"

I start.

"A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,

Lie down your head, and close your sleepy eyes

And when again they open the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm,

here the daises guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet

And tomorrow brings

them true

Here is the place where I love you."

I look down only to find Asher fast asleep, his blonde hair falling just over his eyebrows. No use in finishing the song, I think.

I particularly enjoy that song, because it reminds me of all the times Asher and I used to play in the meadow. I would run around picking dandelions for my mother, and he would just run around in general; and sometimes copy me, which wasn't at all funny at the time.

It is also one of the many songs that my mother had taught us.

I check to make sure Asher is asleep one more time, before allowing the somnolent feelings to take control.

"Willow! Willow!" shouts Asher as he shakes me violently.

I rub my shoulder tenderly. He is strong for his age. "What Asher?" I ask irritated.

"We have to go to the train station, so get up!" With one big push from Asher, I suddenly land on the floor with a thud.

"Asher, what was that for?" I exact while rubbing my now throbbing ankle. He bursts into a fit of very loud laughter.

"Is everything alright?" asks my dad from the doorway, genuinely concerned.

I scowl. "Asher pushed me of my own bed!" The accused quickly buries himself under the covers as if he is hoping to be hidden from the world. My dad walks towards us, a grin on his face. He helps me up before grabbing the bundle of giggling sheets.

"You should get ready soon," he says, Asher still in his arms. "We're leaving here in about half an hour."

"Okay." I reply as he closes the door. I quickly get dressed and throw my hair into a haphazard braid down my back.

As I approach the stairs, the sweet aroma of blueberry muffins stop me. Oh how I love my dad's baking.

I take the steps two at a time, and when I reach the kitchen I notice that everyone is present except me.

I sit down next to my dad and the trader (Asher). My dad passes me a small plate of muffins, which I almost immediately devour when they are in my reach. This just brings on a look from my mother, especially when Asher starts mimicking my unmannerly actions. My dad just smiles and shakes his head in a slightly chastising way.

When we all finish, we place our dishes in the sink and start out the door.

The air outside is hot and humid, coaxing me to retreat back into the cool house. Instead I continue moving. Maybe I can find out about this mysterious bride of Everest's.

I race ahead of my family just so I can see Haymitch's geese. As I approach his house, I hear the familiar honking coming from around back. I peer around the side of the house only to find their pen overloaded with flies and dung. What does Haymitch do to the poor animals?

I search around for him, but he is no where to be found. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Haymitch in a while; and obviously neither have his geese.

I am about to go and help the poor creatures when my dad calls my name. "Willow!" I run back to where they are now standing.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Nothing. Just stay close to us, alright?" I nod and linger next to them until we exit the place that was previously known as Victors Village.

As we approach the square, I can't help but recognize the lack of people. This is odd considering it is normally bustling with business. Most of the shops are closed and their blinds drawn, giving the area an ominous feel.

"Why is the square so vacant?" I ask both of my parents. My mother's eyes dart around questioningly and soon after, widen with recognition. She whispers something inaudible to my dad. An expression of pain spreads across his face. My mother and Asher scurry ahead of us.

When they are out of earshot, my father begins to explain. "Today is June 8th, the day of The Reaping." he says almost at a whisper.

"Oh. What exactly is The Reaping again?" I ask.

"It was the ceremony where they chose the tributes for the Hunger Games."

"Right." I mutter under my breath.

We are catching up to my mother and Asher, when I realize something. I would have missed The Reaping by a day. My birthday is June 9th, or tomorrow, and I am turning twelve. I glance over at my mother who is staring blankly ahead of us. This must be old news to her.

Before I know it, we arrive at the train station. It isn't very crowded today either. I wonder if that is also because of the historically somber day.

My mother, Asher and I take a seat on one of the chrome benches, while my dad checks to see what time the train will come in. I am sitting wordlessly when I feel a small finger jab my ribs. "What Asher?" I ask annoyed.

"Do you think Everest will play with me?" His facial is of such pure innocence, that I hate to lie.

I open my mouth to speak, but my dad takes over. "Of course he will, Asher." he reassures while tickling him. This just calls for Asher to erupt in laughter and shout constant pleads of mercy.

When the giggling dies down, my dad continues, "Good news, their train should be on time." He takes a seat next to my mother.

"That's good." she comments with quite a lack of zeal.

"What time is it?" inquires Asher obviously bored.

My mother examines the sky closely. " About eight. It should be here any time soon." I notice Asher look down at his feet, finding the action of maintaining patience arduous.

"Six plus five?" I ask him. Both of my parents look at me perplexed and completely oblivious to the mathematical game.

Asher catches on quickly.

"Eleven." he states, a grin practically causing his face to split into two.

"Nine plus eight?" He scowls at me, recalling the fact that this particular question caused him much thought before.

I start to laugh at his confusion, but then he answers. "Seventeen." I shut up quickly, while he just gives me an impish smile.

How did he figure that out, I wonder. My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the painful cacophony of train brakes. My whole body perks up. Yay! They're finally here, it screams.

"I think this is theirs'" informs my dad as we all get to our feet. There is an announcement on the speakers that confirms his words.

Soon numerous amounts of people exit through the trains automatic doors, but to my bewilderment not one of them is Everest or Annie. We search the milieu, but they are no where to be seen.

I am starting to worry, when I lay my eyes upon two familiar faces. A tall young man that has bronze colored hair and sea green eyes with an austere expression on his face; as he gently guides a distraught looking woman with tangled brown hair and the same eyes, towards us.

I glance up at my parents apprehensively, only to find that they aren't looking so swell either. My mother has tears threatening to spill over her lower eyelashes, and my dad has that same look of pain in his eyes from earlier.

I silently grasp Asher's hand, before whispering, "What is going on?"