SWAN UPON LEDA; hunger games

chapter 1

[act 1; chapter 1     -     quiet days are gone]

    She is used to early mornings and quiet days. To crawling out of her bed and pulling on her clothes for the day, slipping her boots onto her feet and venturing outside. To grabbing the things she needs and heading to the market to get enough food to last them a week and casual walks along the beach.

    She waves and says hello, and wraps her coat tighter around herself as a bitter breeze brushes against her. Her hair, which reaches just above her waist, blows in the wind, tickling her cheeks every so often. Her hazel eyes watch the people walk by her, going on with their lives, trying to make the best of a day that will soon turn sour.

    That morning, Leda had woken up to a sick feeling in her stomach—today is Reaping day. The day when twenty four children, two from each of the 12 districts, are sentenced to death. It is the day when names are pulled from a bowl and announce the twenty four who enter, and the one that will exit.

    But she goes through the day as if it's normal, as if this is not possibly the last day where she gets to be normal, where she gets to be a kid. She goes through the entire day as if it is just another day. But then it is time. Time to get ready, to prepare for what could possibly be the end.

    She is silent as her mother does her hair, braids twisted into a crown, decorated with flowers picked that morning. She is silent as she slips on gray trousers and a gray shirt and gray shoes that all mimic how she is beginning to feel inside.

    There is a sense of worry in her gut, one that reminds her that she is not the only one who could possibly be chosen today. Her brother, her little brother, could also be selected, she knows. Leith may only be thirteen, but now his name will be in that bowl three times. That is three possible papers that could be pulled that all mean the same thing—death.

    The family of four, followed by the entirety of District 4, walked to the Justice Building, holding hands, trying to remember the warmth of each other in case the worst really did happen. Leda clutched onto Leith's hand as they walked side by side, keeping him as close as possible for as long as possible. She knew at any moment they would be pulled apart, that they would be dragged to two different sections, waiting, listening, counting down the seconds before two names were called.

    She felt her fathers strong, sure hand on her back, in between her shoulder blades, guiding her, grounding her. He was taller than her by quite a lot, with a sharp jaw and curly brown hair and light blue eyes and tanned skin. He had taught her how to fight, how to hold a knife and throw a spear and a trident. He had taught her hand to hand combat and how to keep herself alive with minimal resources. He had prepared her for moments like this, for what they might mean.