Clato : Till forever falls apart

Chapter 1 - reaping day

I wake up with the sun seeping through the curtains and roll over sinking my head into the feathered pillow before the date hits me, today is the day of the reaping. A smile spreads across my lips at the thought.

I sit up, leaning against the wooden headboard of my bed. Then Leaning over to the window behind me to push the curtains all the way open, the sun is bright but only just setting over the mountain range. I throw the warm duvet to the side and open my bedroom door to look down the hallway and see my mother and father in the kitchen. the two are statuesque standing in the morning sun, my father fits his name, Ares, it was a popular trend in district two to name your kids after mythology , strong names for a strong district my mothers name was Mariam a name fit for a capital citizen.

Knowing it's the day of the reaping I want to get some time to myself before the event, I walk back to my room and put on my leather combat/training boots. the boots caress my feet perfectly I haven't got new shoes for years I havnt grown out of these and it would almost be sad to throw them out. I pull on simple trousers and a loose shirt and tie my long brown hair into a ponytail .

My stomach rumbles but I push the hunger away and climb out the window behind my bed (not wanting to confront my parents this early)  I land on a dusty path beneath me the fall wasn't long as we live in a modest bungalow, considering district 2 is one of the richest, deemed the pets of the capitol, we don't seem to be that rich. Brick dust clouds with every step. normally the masonry workers walk in gaggles to work spaces. But today the streets are bare and devoid of life because of the reaping, it's a public Holiday. There will be a party tonight to celebrate it. Entering the games is an honour. The reaping starts at exactly 2'o'clock people will prepare for it all morning.

Our house is a mile walk out from the local training academy, the path is well trodden from kids ages 8 and up flocking to it on assigned days, the academy stands tall a few story's high, guarded by a chain link fence and peace keepers in hut stations outside making sure weapons aren't stolen from the academy by particularly eager students.

I see a few kids walking through the gates, nowhere near as many as normal, especially on a Sunday where the centre was open to all. Sunday's there are no actual trainers you can practice freely, I know for sure that the two chosen volunteers will be here today, nobody is told who is selected untill they go to the stage, normally it's 16 to 18 year olds having been trained the longest time. I'm 15, I could have an opportunity next year, maybe, probably not, I wander in my thoughts of bringing victory as I walk through the academy gates.

As soon as I'm through the door I climb the stairs to the 3rd floor passing the locker room and weights gym, the third floor is where they keep the dummies and weapons. My favourite room. My sanctuary for knife throwing.

Many people in two who train here move on to become peace keepers. Only men work really though, women raise family's and bring the food, working in more medical professions like healers. men earn the keep. Often times you don't even see a lot of girls in the training centre and if you do they're the best of the best.

I'm not the best of the best, I used to be the fat kid, then I became ill, my mind became ill, I became the skinny kid I wasn't strong enough to do anything, the lack of nutrition stunted my growth so I'm 5'4 which is a good height, but people who enter the games have to be strong and well built. I feel I'm netheir . Becoming what the captiol expect you to be is hard but you can't talk ill of the capitol. It's dangerous. And why would you talk Bad of the captiol? they're practically hero's. I eat enough to fight and for people not to notice I'm weak. But I never want to be the fat kid again. However learning to hide and hold my tounge became easy I can seem deceitful and rude but it's ok because it's normal it's district 2. You need to be feisty so people don't instantly weed you out as week and make you the punch line of all their jokes.