Ava
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.
Ava was a good, sweet girl.
She always helped out around the house, doing all the chores whenever her mother couldn't get out of bed because of headaches, which was often. She didn't get tossed in jail overnight for stealing the neighbors' chickens or sneak gulps of her father's moonshine like her older brother Aaron did. She wasn't born unable to walk straight or speak like her younger sister Cara. She didn't even get on her father's nerves, not anymore. She had learned not to be annoying early, and he appreciated that. He did work very hard and saved a lot of money to keep them from being poor; he didn't need distractions around the home.
Ava was quiet and respectful in school, always near or at the top of every class. She was friendly to everyone. She heard her father shouting at her brother for his lack of personal hygiene. Ava kept herself and her clothing impeccably clean. She noted how her mother cried whenever Cara would have a fit and tear out her own hair in clumps. Ava grew her hair out as long as she possibly could, somewhat longer that she wanted. Her mother loved brushing it.
She was okay with all that. Of course she was.
Ava was the perfect child, the perfect student, even the perfect dancer, according to her teacher. That was one thing her father splurged on: dance lessons for Ava. She loved dancing. She knew she was beautiful when she danced.
Being Reaped was a surprise. Her brother had taken out tesserae for a few years solely to aggravate their father and his pride, until he turned nineteen and couldn't anymore. Ava hadn't, not in the past five years she'd been eligible. Cara, now twelve herself, never would either. The sisters' names were in a few times as possible.
And yet Ava's name was called. District Ten sometimes had volunteers. This year was not one of those.
Her district partner was fifteen, a green-eyed, lanky boy named Ian from a poor section of Ten Ava wasn't acquainted with. He seemed very shy and didn't talk much. The few times he did, he was nice.
The tribute escort talked too much. Ava tuned a lot of it out, but remained respectful. Ten's former Victors, Ed and Cooper, were drunk most of the time. This meant that the escort could be the most important link to potential sponsors.
Ava did whatever the prep team and stylist asked her to, even keeping her opinions on the skimpy, faux-fur parade outfits to herself. In training, she did a bit of everything, but focused on the survival stations and smaller weapons. One of her mentors suggested that during a brief moment of sobriety.
He gave the same advice to Ian, but the boy was more interested in finding different types of alcohol to try. Ava knew he'd given up before the Games even began.
She kept to herself, yet watched everyone.
This is how people survive the Games, isn't it?
To keep her thoughts from swirling too much, Ava would often find a quiet place to dance. She didn't need music for that.
This wouldn't work during the interviews before the Games. So she spent the time leading up to her turn examining the outfits of the other tributes and ranking them in her head.
Her own she thought quite pretty, a vast improvement over the parade costume. It was long, and a deep reddish-purple, beaded around the bodice and collar in black-and-red flowers. She particularly liked the overt coordination of the District Twos and Elevens. The District Two female, Sasha, had on a short, sleeveless, black leather dress, trimmed with red to match her hair, and her brother Markus wore suit of the same materials. Salvia, the District Eleven girl, wore a flowing dress with a black base color almost entirely covered in bright, multicolored flowers; her curly hair was woven through with more flowers. Her district partner Herb had a more muted suit on, but the cuffs and collar were embroidered with flowers to match hers.
She wondered a bit why District Eight's outfits were not remotely coordinated. Brian's dark suit was trimmed with many neon-colored ribbons, but Anelle's was a layered, light-blue-and-black piece.
She found it hard to listen to the actual interviews without her heart beginning to race, so she didn't.
Her own interview went well. Caesar was kind and asked good questions. Knowing to be polite, she answered each question carefully and politely, painting a picture of a hardworking yet kind father, loving yet industrious mother, a smart brother and a sweet sister. All good things she was desperate to return to, and hopeful that she might. She knew they would be watching.
Mother doesn't like raised voices. Ava kept hers quiet.
The arena was cold, colder than District Ten ever got, except maybe during the very worst winter days.
That didn't stop Ava from sweeping up the nearest lightweight backpack to her pedestal and running far, far away from everyone else. She even reached the edge of the Arena eventually, where a rocky, icy shore dissolved into a gray ocean.
She'd never seen an ocean in person before. Even a fake one, which this might be.
Lots of things are fake.
The edible plants station and trapping station from the Training Station saved her. She gathered herbs and edible tree bark, trapped mice and even a couple rabbits. She never got to cook any of it well; big, long-lasting fires were out of the question even when she could find dry fuel. She managed.
Somewhere, her family was watching her scrounge for food.
Father doesn't like gluttons. Ava had always made sure she never ate too much.
That helped now.
One night, after almost two weeks of winter, after twenty-two cannons had fired and twenty-two faces had been shown in the sky, she found herself sheltering from the wind under an overhanging portion of a pile of boulders. There was nothing to make a fire with, and she was out of food.
It's almost over. I can't give up now.
The overhang was not enough. Shaking with hunger, desperate to prevent the icy cold from ending her, Ava found a flat patch of ground and smoothed it out further with her shaking gloved hands. Then she danced, breaking frozen grass blades under numb booted feet, dancing through the night.
She knew she was strong when she danced.