Act 1
'District 8'

It was coming up upon that time of the year; the Games were coming. You could definitely tell just by merely looking around. While there was nothing obvious, like banners or people shouting about it, the general attitude of my home district changes.

Normally District 8 was very much an urban wasteland. The mixture of the smog in the environment and the smog-like personalities of the people made it a very popular place. Despite this, there was still some people who would flash a smile upon walking by.

But with the Games coming up, everyone became shut-ins. If they weren't working or at school, they were avoiding all contact with others. No one seemed to want to attach themselves with another person, fearing they may lose that connection due to the games.

Walking down the street, I saw this change. It would be subtle, if anything, to anyone out of the district. The people would just come off as grumpy and plain rude. But for someone like me, who has never left the district, I could see it clear as day. I have seen it every year for 16 years now.

Now I was no exception to this either. I, myself, was walking with my head down for the most part. I avoided eye contact and nodded instead of speaking a response. Having just gotten off work, I just wanted to get home.

"Calico!"

The voice rang out down the street. I hadn't even needed to raise my head to see who was calling my name. I knew the voice all too well. The young owner of the voice appeared in front of me as if by magic, causing me to have to stop walking.

Darn it. I was so close to home, I thought.

The blonde girl in front of me was named Lilleth. She was only 13 years old and thus in a different grade level all together, but I knew her through work. She worked only an hour or so every other day at the factory, only so she could get some money.

She was a rather chipper girl, especially around this time. While everyone else is being doom-and-gloom, here is Lilleth still smiling. And I don't know how she could maintain it. She once told me a story, explaining how she had an accident with a loom. It had caught her hair, pulling her backwards into the machine. She came out with so many scars that it was rather saddening to think about sometimes. Still, she manages always to have a calm smile on her face.

"So, you going home?" asked Lilleth.

"Yeah," I muttered.

I try to be nice to Lilleth, but around this time of the year, I just don't want to be. It isn't Lilleth's fault. I just don't want to talk to anyone really.

"I'm on my way to work now," explained Lilleth. "I haven't been able to go recently due to some virus going around my apartment building. I feel a bit better and Dezji is letting me go, so I finally am getting back to work."

Dezji was Lilleth's brother. I have never met him; only heard about him through conversation. From what I gathered, he was a great older brother. Lilleth truly loved him and respected him and he loved her and took care of her. He even didn't want her to be working in the factory, wanting her to be safe.

I wish I had someone like him.

"Well, I better get going before I am considered late and docked pay," said Lilleth, looking at the beat-up watch on her wrist. "Bye!"

And with a wave, she left as quickly as she arrived.

Sometimes I just don't get that girl, I thought to myself.

All I could do was shake my head and continue home. Thankfully no one else interrupted my journey.

Having arrived at my apartment building, I was greeted by the normal unwelcoming sight.

My family and I lived in an unsettling neighborhood, which is saying something when it comes to most of District 8. Our apartment building was smack dab in the center of some shady territory. Gangs, drugs, and prostitution were a common sight around here.

I mean, sitting on the stoop when I arrived home was some members of the local gang. The Peacekeepers didn't care. As long as it didn't affect them, they had no issue with the problems. Then again, if they actually did their job, that would mean working.

"If it isn't Neil."

The gang member mocking me was one I knew by name; Pill. A 20-something year old, this man had the intelligence of a 2 year old. He didn't live in the apartment building, but was usually there; much to my misery.

I managed to walk past him and his crew, who took up most of the steps… Like the nuisances they are.

"Say hi to your mom for me," called out Pill, followed by a laugh, as I closed the main door behind me.

If I didn't know that Pill and his gang would surely hurt me, I would have punched him for that comment. But he was much stronger than me. Then again, I think he was stronger than most people in the district and probably the reason he gravitated to leading a gang.

I walked up the flights of stairs towards my apartment. As I passed by doors, I heard an array of sounds. This was the usual; everything for shouting curse words to babies crying to older siblings reading stories to their kid brothers and sisters.

I managed to get up to the third story without any hassle, much to my delight. I ended up pausing before opening the door though.

See, there was a reason why someone like Pill knew my mom and why I would hesitate on opening the front door everyday coming home from work. The reason was my mom and her… habits.

I took a deep breath and opened the front door. A wafting stench hit my face causing me to gag. You think I would get used to this greeting having to deal with it all the time, but it still gets to me. This sickly scent was matched with the sight of our diseased-looking place. It looked like the sight of an explosion; just the way it always had.

"I'm home!" I called out, walking into the living room.

I dropped my satchel onto the floor and plopped onto the couch. Despite being covering in dust and who knows what else, it was still much more comfy than standing on my feet.

Soon enough I heard the sound of dragging feet coming from the hall. I only needed to move my head slightly to see it was my mom.

"Your back," she said with the slight sound of dismay.

My mom, once a beautiful, modelesque woman, now stood in front of me as only a skeleton of what she once was. Her pale skin had turned a ghastly shade of yellow; like it was stained. Her figure had sunken in on itself. And though you could tell by her body, as it was hidden under her clothing, her face showed it all too well. She looked like what she was, a drug addict.

It was people like Pill, who got their money through damaging other people, who got her hooked. My mom had always been a strong, independently fierce female that I looked up to. I understand how that can sound cliché coming from me as her daughter, but that was how I saw her. She didn't need anyone's assurance and instead felt comfortable with herself. And while I didn't have the best childhood due to poverty, it was made well by her brilliant attitude.

But around three years ago, that once vivid shine she had started to dwindle. I blame Pill especially for taken advantage of my mom's sudden depression. For as she got more and more sad, the more and more morphling he sold to her. Soon she was wasting her money on drugs and as that continued she was soon forced out of work due to her addiction.

"Yes, I'm back," I said. "Did you go anywhere today?"

"No," my mom said, not looking at me.

This was a normal conversation; one with reversed roles. It was the same thing day in and day out, and to tell you the truth, rather annoying. I felt as if the adult in this situation.

"I'll make dinner," I said, standing up.

"I'm not hungry," my mom said before I got to the kitchen.

"You need to eat something," I said.

I was getting a bit snippy, as I have heard this before. She once thought if she didn't eat, she could afford more morphling. When I discovered she had actually been doing this, she was so weak she could barely stand. I didn't want that to happen again.

"I'm not hungry!" she shouted.

She was tearing up now, most likely an emotional side effect for her years of addiction. She tended to have these mood swings. Most of the time, I tried to write them off. But right now, I was angry at everything.

"I will shove the food down your throat!" I snapped back. "You are eating!"

She didn't argue, instead lowered her head as if by defeat. With that, she shuffled back to her room in the back of the apartment. I just sighed and went to the kitchen.

I truly love my mom, but at times like these, I cannot help but pity her.

First true chapter up! Hope you guys liked it. Remember to review your opinions. This story will NOT be interactive, so no points-systems. I find that would just be too difficult to do and rather annoying. I wouldn't want to avoid the story because I was scared of the points. Anyway, reviewing though will help give motivation and tells me what is good and what could be better. Thank-you!

As you can see, multiple characters were in this chapter. Lilleth is the sister of Dezji (Frank2.0), Pill and Calico's mom (by self), and Calico (also by self). Next chapter will be about the same amount of characters, bringing in Dezji.