*DISTRICT 1*
*RENEE CHARLOTTE MITCHELL*
*SEVENTEEN*
"Attention!"
The sound of marching, thick white boots clomping heavily against the ground, rises Renee from her slumber. Respectfully, she once again closes her eyes and bows her head, praying for everyone's safety on this Reaping Day. Then she swings her legs over the edge of her bed and stands.
The orange lights on her clock glow: 7:02. The Reaping is in 58, no, make that 57 minutes.
Renee heads into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket. As she takes her first bite, her mother appears in the room.
"Good morning," she mumbles through her mouthful of food.
Normally, Sarah Mitchell will chastise her daughter for her lack of manners, but today she has more important matters on her mind. She takes a few steps closer to Renee, darts furtive looks around the otherwise empty house, as though worrying they're being watched, and lowers her voice to a hiss. "Did you pray this morning?"
"Of course."
"You're not going to volunteer, Renee?" The sound of each syllable echoes in her ear.
"There'll be plenty of people to do that," she assures her mother with a laugh. Renee tosses the apple core into the garbage and makes her way back to her room, where Sarah has laid out her Reaping outfit.
An off-white dress is perched on her bed. It has a soft silk-like skirt and a halter bodice. White pumps and headband are carefully lying next to it.
In record time, Renee splashes water on her face and brushes her teeth. Her dark hair, black as the sky on a moonless night, falls in thick, natural waves down to the small of her back,and all she has to do is brush out some of the frizz. Her sun-kissed skin glows, and her mocha-colored irises sparkle. Usually, she wears cat's-eye glasses, but today is a special day, so she puts on contact lenses and slips an extra package into a secret pocket in her dress before donning the outfit.
Suddenly, there is a knock on her door. Renee makes sure her attire is properly covering everything before opening it. "Good morning, Father."
"Good morning, Renee." Thomas Mitchell is still dressed in his Peacekeeper suit, but he's holding the helmet under his arm. "You look gorgeous."
"Thank you." She smiles politely.
"Happy Reaping." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver-edged dagger. The handle is made of cork, and engraved with the initials TDM. Thomas David Mitchell. "I want you to have this, Renee."
She turns the knife over in her hands, watching as the light reflects off the blade. "It's beautiful."
"Keep it if you are Reaped. They will let it slide as your token."
*ACHILLES ALDIVORE*
*FIFTEEN*
"I'm getting up," Achilles moans, stretching and arching his back. "I'm getting up."
"Who're you talking to, Freak?" His twin sister, Lust, rolls over to glare at him. "I'm trying to sleep."
"I told myself to get up," he explains timidly, instinctively cowering away from Lust.
At 5'9, Lust is a ruthless killing machine. She's been training since she was old enough to be Reaped, every day, as often as she can. And this is the year she plans to volunteer. "What do you mean, you told yourself to get up?"
"The voices," Achilles mumbles, tapping his head. "They said that today is the Reaping, and that I needed to get up. If I'm not at the Reaping, I will bring shame upon my District. Why? Are they wrong?"
She sighs, the sound cutting through the air like a knife. Her blue eyes snap with annoyance. "What an idiot."
*DISTRICT 1 REAPING*
Halla Glamini has been the District 1 escort for the past ten years, and has never grown a day older. Or that's what it seems like. Her skin has always been a pale shade of purple, silky-soft and wrinkle-free. Her grey eyes are brisk and busy. And her stride is purposeful. She struts onto the stage, grinning for the cameras. "Good morning, young ladies and gentlemen. As you all know, today is the 75th Quarter Quell."
A chorus of stamping feet and whoops of applause are heard throughout the square as Halla click-clacks in her foot-high boots over to the two glass bowls in the center of the stage.
"Wait!" It's Lust Aldivore, sounding particularly venomous. The second the word escapes her mouth, every child falls silent. What stunt is she planning to pull now? "What's the Quarter Quell this year?"
"Right, right, of course. Incidentally, I am not allowed to tell you." The prospective tributes roar with indignation. Halla holds up a hand, palm out. "President Snow will give you that information personally."
Eyebrows raise. This has never happened before. Of course, it's only the third Quarter Quell.
"Anyway, ladies first!" She digs around for a while, her gleaming gold fingernails clinking against the glass bowl. "Lust Aldivore!"
I can't let her go into the arena, Renee thinks, panicking. She has a sick brother. Of course she wants to stay home and care for him. Without another thought, those two dreaded words escape from her mouth.
"I volunteer."
Achilles cranes to find the girl who just volunteered for his sister. He knows Lust will want to murder her, and he needs to save her now. Those voices are telling him to save her. But before he can so much as move toward the girls' section, Halla is rummaging through the second bowl.
"Achilles Aldivore!"
Nobody volunteers. Most of the children think he is a waste of space, an embarrassment to District 1. Even though Achilles trains with them, eats with them, and goes to school with them, they believe they'd be better off if he didn't exist. There's no way he'll survive the Games.
so. what do ya'll think? pretty please tell me, or I won't know how to improve.
also, if a character is yours, do me a favor and leave me a nice long review, so i know if i'm playing him/her right. otherwise, i have no way of telling.
thanks for reading this! :)