Chapter 1: The Reaping

Walking through the streets on July 4th, it always felt wrong. So many men in white uniforms, with guns in hand, herding the children from their homes. One grabbed my arm and I snarled at him, pulling my arm from his grip.
"I'm going, don't touch me" I snapped. Dressing in your Sunday best was always demanded by the Capitol, so I was wearing something I knew would catch everyone's attention. A dress that had once caused my grandmother to be called a clown. I looked like her in most ways, everything except my eyes. My sharp blue eyes were a stark difference from my grandmother's warm brown. I'd inherited my mother's tanned complexion from years in the sun, and her dark waves. I'd been raised by my grandmother after my mother died in childbirth.

I stepped up to the sign-in area, allowing the peacekeeper to prick my finger for sign-in, and I was led to the other seventeen-year-old girls. Unlike most children here, I had nobody watching me from the back, the observation area. My grandmother had been in hiding for 43 years. Ever since she ran from the man now known as President Snow. The Covey visited us often, enough that the loss of one of our own three years ago had us all in mourning. Lenore Dove was kind and ferocious as they come. She, like my Gran and I, wanted the games to be over. Enough children had died. By my count, in fifty-two years of Hunger Games, 1220 children had died; all between the ages of 12-18.
"Willow-Blue Baird." My heart stopped, my eyes shot to the stage where a woman dressed in Capitol clothing was standing by the microphone, paper in hand. A paper that had my name. "Willow-Blue Baird, come to the stage" the woman's perky voice called. I slowly stepped out from the other girls and down the walkway to the stage. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I walked up the steps to stand beside the woman. She then called out for the name of the male tribute from District 12: Eaton Chance. His younger brother had been reaped three years ago. Unlike his brother, he didn't try to run, he stormed up to the stage and stood on the other side of the Capital woman, I hadn't paid attention to her name. She finished off her spiel, ending with May the odds be ever in your favour, bullshit!

Walking to the train felt like being walked to my own execution, little did they know that my grandmother had been raising me to survive in case I ever got reaped. Well, guess the day finally came that I got reaped. No fancy-ass train was going to make up for the fact that I was going to be put in a life-or-death arena for the entertainment of the entitled Capitol pricks. No, they weren't going to make me a little plaything. I won't let them. I won't survive by becoming a murderer. I'll always be Gran's little Mockingjay. A boy was sat in a chair by the window, his blonde hair falling in his eyes as he stared out the window, bringing a glass of amber liquid to his lips for a sip.
"Haymitch, these are our tributes for this year" the Capitol woman told the blonde boy. He glanced over at us briefly, then went back to staring out the window.
"Don't care, Effie" he grumbled, bringing the glass to his lips again. I scoffed and looked to the Capital woman, Effie, he'd called her.
"He's supposed to help us?" I rolled my eyes, folding my arms across my chest. The dark braids in my hair falling over my shoulders. My comment got Haymitch's attention. He stood and stumbled towards me, his breath reeking of scotch.
"You don't know me, little girl" he snarled, then pulled at the end of my left braid. His look wistful for a moment before he downed the rest of his scotch and shook his head.
"You're nothing but a drunk" I snapped, then turned to Effie. "Where can I go to lay down, I'm not being stuck around someone who could die by breathing around a lit match" I told her. She looked between Haymitch and I, then sighed.
"Come with me" she instructed, putting an arm around my shoulder and leading me to through two carts before we stopped in one that had a bunk bed.
"I heard about what happened to him. I get that he's given up, but not everyone has. He needs to suck it up, or more kids are gonna die" I snapped, whirling on Effie.
"Yelling at him won't help your case" Effie warned.
"Neither will babying him" I reminded her, "he needs a reality check." Effie sighed and left the room, leaving me with my thoughts.

Eaton stepped through the door, I never realised how much he and Woodbine looked alike. He sat beside me on the bottom bunk and shook his head.
"I don't know what to say, but I don't want to kill you in the games" he told me, taking my hand. I glanced at him and pulled my hand away.
"Then help me stop the games, we band together and find more allies from the other tributes. We can band together and refuse to kill each other" I suggested, standing up and facing him where he sat. If nobody killed each other, there would be no games.
"And if they just wait us out until we starve?"
"At some point, they'd realise we're not going to play their damn game. It's not entertaining if we're just hanging out, telling stories of our districts. They'll get bored and take us out-"
"Probably with guns" he interrupted loudly, standing up and getting in my personal space. The door opened and Eaton was shoved away from me, a body tangling with his as both of them fell to the floor.
"Haymitch!" I gasped in surprise, not expecting the drunk to show up. The two rolled around on the floor, exchanging punches until I reached forward in an attempt to pull Haymitch away and earned myself an elbow to the face. Haymitch stopped and looked over his shoulder, realising what he'd done. He immediately got up and stumbled over to me.
"I'm sorry, I didn't-" I shoved him back.
"You did though" I yelled, "why are you even here?" I demanded. My face burning on the left side, my cheek stinging from the contact with Haymitch's elbow.
"I came to apologise. Effie-" I scoffed and Haymitch sighed. "Let me finish my damn sentence, girl" he grumbled. I folded my arms across my chest and nodded for him to continue. "Okay, Effie said that I was acting like a dick. Well, not those exact words, she's too proper for that. But she said I needed to apologise. So I came here and heard shouting" he explained, then waved his hand in Eaton's direction.
"It was a discussion" I shrugged.
"About what?" Haymitch asked, genuinely curious.
"Ending the games. It's not entertaining if nobody is killing each other, I suggested we all just hang out until they drag us out" I explained, letting my hands fall to my sides. "But Eaton thinks the Peacekeepers will just shoot us" I added.
"They would though" Eaton grumbled, sitting on the bottom bunk and rubbing his jaw. We would both be bruised tomorrow. Great first impression. Haymitch's eyes never left mine. Was I reminding him of someone? Was he impressed? Or did he think I was insane?
"You want to stop the games?" Haymitch softened. I only nodded in response; he offered his hand. "Come with me" he instructed, and I took his hand, it was warm in mine.

Haymitch led me to another cart with a massive double bed, a queen or king size I'd guess. He spun to face me after locking the door and a smile lit up his face.
"If you want to stop the games, I want to help you" he told me, "You just made this the best damn birthday" he chuckled as he put a hand against my sore cheek, making me flinch. He pulled his hand away, his face apologetic.
"It's your birthday?"
"I'm 19 today" he replied.
"Happy birthday."
"Back to your plan, how are you going to convince the other districts to stay their hands?" he asked, moving to sit on the bed. I sat beside him, crossing my legs and tapping my fingers against my right knee.
"Explain that there's no games without us killing each other. Explaining that if we can stop the games, end the rule of Coriolanus. We can live our lives without worrying if one day our children could be put in this brutal position. No more Peacekeepers, no more senseless violence, no more fear of each other. We can live in harmony together. Sharing our resources and building a better future" I told him. There was a beat of silence before he shook his head.
"It won't work. At least not with the career tributes, they volunteer because they enjoy the thrill of the kill. They're raised to believe this is the ultimate victory: winning the games" Haymitch explained, shutting down that idea.
"What about the other districts? Will they listen?"
"Maybe" Haymitch sighed.
"It's worth a try, right?" I asked, my determination starting to fade.
"We can try."
"We?" I smiled.
"I made a promise to someone that I would put an end to the games, I intend to keep that promise" he told me.
"Lenore Dove" I whispered, knowing the Covey girl from my time by the lake with my extended family. His eyes shot to mine.
"Don't say her name" he snapped, standing and walking to the door.
"She's family, I can say her name. We're from the same Covey, we share blood" I stood, not backing down.
"She was my…" he stopped, rubbing his face and then unlocking the door and opening it. Our conversation was clearly over.
"She loved you like all-fire too" I whispered as I passed him, he grabbed my wrist.
"Who are you?" he asked curiously.