Of Careers and Volunteers

Part 1: The Volunteer

Chapter 1: The Volunteer

How could I do it? The idea was preposterous, running on stage and saying I would gladly go in. But it couldn't be exactly ruled out, right? The Capitol has been working day and night to get the districts and its own citizens more included in the Games, and things have finally started picking up after Mags Flanagan's stunning win last year. Surely they'd let me join the tributes if I volunteered. What better way to get Panem excited about the Hunger Games than someone who is willing and proud to go in?

To my brother, of course, this idea is preposterous, period. And to my sister, too. The games are dangerous, deadly with a good chance of death, but I don't see a fault in my plan. Our family has been floundering recently, our luck turning at the recent discovery about our mother that has just made itself public. Now we aren't nearly as respected as we once were; as we deserve. No, Rube and Jade don't understand what it's truly like for our family now. We need a way out.

It's not their fault, of course. They're just kids. Rube, my baby brother, only ten years old. Jade, twelve but acts like she's older than me. They're good kids, brats but my family, and I'm not going to let our name be dragged through the mud any longer. I won't withstand the stares at school, the sly eyes and knowing smirks and mischievous gossiping.

I will volunteer for the 12th Hunger Games if it kills me.

This plan isn't coming out of nowhere. I've been tossing it around in my head since Mags won the Games, and after the first ever Victory Tour around Panem, I've been trying to persuade the family. Mom, who's tired of being an object of ridicule, is all for it. Jade says I'm stupid, Rube thinks I'm crazy. They'll understand when I come home the victor.

I could be crazy, right out of my mind, to think that they'll allow me to join the Games. Ever since they started almost 12 years ago, when I was only six, they would just pick whoever and toss them in the Coliseum. But things have changed. After that District 12 girl, Lucy Gray, in the Tenth Games, victors suddenly are getting a new status. A boy from the Capitol, Mr. Snow I guess, had the idea to make the victors rich beyond belief and then parade them about all of Panem to bask in glory. I think he's a genius, what a great idea! And what a perfect way to redeem the family name.

I wish I could talk to Mags, the victor from District 4 and of the 11th Games, to see how perfect everything is for her now. A new beautiful house, every boy and maybe even some girls after her, up to her ears in money, the shining star of Panem. I can be her, and I will, as soon as I convince that new capitol escort to let me onto the stage.

I've been training, of course. At first it was in case of a sudden reaping, little exercises that I started when the war was still cooling off. Then it grew, tossing a few knives around, learning to build muscle and use what weight I have. I even have a few daggers, left over from the war and hidden soundly in the house, that have been my greatest allies for training. And now it'll go to good use, especially since I've been amping up my training since I decided to volunteer. It's probably against the rules for a tribute to prepare for the Games like I have, but who cares? I have a sense of district pride, pride for my family and my country, that nobody else in District 1 has. Or probably all of Panem.

I comb my blonde hair along my right shoulder, pulling out knots and tangles. The fine-tooth comb I hold is made of white ceramic, inlaid with small clear jewels along the side, right from the Capitol. My father gifted it to me during the war, when I was just a kid. Ever since then, I'd say one of my favorite activities is brushing out my hair. Or anyone's hair, really, because I see that Jade is attempting to pull her golden curls into an unruly ponytail.

"Come here," I say. She looks at me angrily, but goes over to my side. I put her in front of the mirror and brush out her hair, then do a fancy braid along her back. She scowls in the mirror.