Chlea Glades (A Hunger Games Fan fic)

I opened my eyes tiredly and instinctively pulled up the thin blue wool blanket that was wrapped around my body. I looked toward the window in my fathers, mothers, and mine little house. It wasn't exactly sunny. It was more like average weather for a not so average day.

Normally I would be up already and in the trees picking the food. But today is the reaping. I suspect they think they are being nice, letting us sleep in. But most people can't sleep in, mostly wondering if they are going to be picked, but if they are parents, wondering if their children are going to be picked.

The reaping happens once a year, one boy and one girl get picked from each district and then go to the capital. They go through training and get pampered and then get thrown into a unknown arena. The arena can range from a barren desert that could have only one source of water, to a rain forest with hundreds of muttations lurking about waiting to kill you. The 24 kids (Ranging from 12-18 and two for each district, 12) have to fight to the death and when one person is left standing they are the victor of the games. They pretty much have the easy life from then on.

I sighed a huge sigh and got up and stretch my sore muscles. My body isn't used to sleeping in so late. I stand up and hear in the little house, a distant cough. I freeze and then start to quickly walk to my mother and fathers room.

I reach their room and I see my mother in bed all by herself. She is sitting up and holding her chest and coughing. I grab the glass of water I put on her dresser last night and press it in her hand. She smiles gratefully at me and then gulps it down. Her blonde hair is slightly messy and her normally bright green eyes are a dull, lifeless, color. My sister, Rye, got my mothers looks. I got my fathers. Normal hazel eyes and dark brown hair.

"Thank you, Chlea," Mother says and puts the cup back on her dresser.

"You need to get ready for the Reaping," I mumble looking at my bare feet.

"I'm not going. I...don't feel right." Mother confesses looking down.

Mother is sick. We took her to the apothecary here in the Lowes, and he told us what was wrong with her, but we just don't have the money for the expensive medicine. Father has been saving all the extra money he can, some nights having to go without food. But I don't mind, I don't want mother to die. Its worth going a couple of nights without any food so she can live.

I smile at her and move her blanket farther up. She looks so fragile in sickness, "Its going to be alright."

"Can you turn on the television? I like watching them set up for the reaping," Mother said in faint voice and coughed again.

"Yes," I said and turned on the little TV on the opposite wall. Sometimes its like Mother doesn't realize that I could be picked for the hunger games. Ever since Rye moved and got married, she didn't worry about it anymore. Maybe she thinks that since Rye is safe then I am to. But I'm not. There is a thing called a tessera where you could put your name in more times then necessary and get a meager years supply of grain and food. When you turn 12 you get your name in once, and once more each year until your 18. But if you don't have enough food or your poor, you can get tessera. When I turned 12 Rye was 17, and we made a agreement to split up and get tessera. I got 2 tessera's one for me and one for Mother, and Rye got one for her and one for Father. We did it then and then the next year and then this year I had to do it for all of us. So right now I have my name in that clear ball nine times. Which means there is a greater chance that I could get picked.

I walk out of Mothers room and into the room I sleep in and sit down besides the old chest of Rye's that she left for me. It has old clothes of hers, ribbons, and other things. I shift through it and find a dress Rye wore for a reaping when she was 14. It was a dull green with a black ribbon tied around the waist. I slipped it on with a comforting thought that maybe it's a little lucky. I tied my hair up with a hair tie and then walked outside and washed my face with water from a clean bucket. I walked back inside and saw that I should be leaving. I decide to walk there with Rye, her baby, and husband.

They don't live very far away from us, but it is rare that she visits. She has a two month old baby boy to look after and I can understand that. And maybe it has something to do with that evil husband of hers. His name is Otto Mooreview,q and he has a slightly ferrety look to him. Whenever I come over he glares at me like I personally made his day horrible. I stomp in the dirt rode until I reach Rye's house.

Her house isn't much bigger then ours is, actually she isn't much wealthier then us. Otto is a planter and that is just above a plant gatherer. I think there house has just one more room then us, and that is for Laden. Well they do have more food then us and eat very regularly. So I guess that they are better off then we are.

I walk up their cracked pavement and then reached their door and knock. I wait impatiently and nervously because I was afraid we were going to be late. I don't know what happens to you then. Maybe the Peacekeepers will shoot us.

Otto answers the door and glares down at me, "What?"

"I wanted to walk with my sister," I answer, "And Laden."

"We were going to walk as a family," Otto says meanly. Now that hurt.

"I am part of the family," I say defensively.

I have always been the odd one out of my family. I don't know why, Maybe because I am the youngest? Otto considers Rye, Laden and his ancient grandmother his family. Not me or mine and Rye's parents.

Another reason I am the odd one out is that when Rye was 12, Father trained her for the hunger games. Father's brother, Struve,is the reason for this. Father was 10 and Struve was 13. He was one of the first ones to die. So father started training Rye even though technically it is illegal, but its not like the Career tributes from districts 1,2 and 4 ever get in trouble. He started teaching her the strategy's of surviving odd circumstances. I was only seven at the time and I silently stood back and watched, sometimes I would try to help and learn to, I didn't want to die. But father told me I was to young to understand it, but I did. When I turned 11 father stopped training Rye, and when I turned 12 I asked father if he could show me and he said I didn't need to. But by watching from far away I learned some important stuff, I would like to think I wouldn't die on the first day.

"Chlea!" I heard Rye yell and she bounded into me and hugged me. I hugged her back hard, still part way in the past, "Did you want to walk with us?"

"That's why I came," I answered, "and to see my beautiful nephew!" I said and picked Laden up from Rye's arms.

"We better be going Rye," Otto muttered bitterly and walked ahead of us.

She turned to me and smiled and shrugged and we walked silently behind him. Sometimes walking with Rye reminded me of the times when I was little and we didn't have to worry about the Hunger Games and we could just be kids. But those days are over and I sometimes wish I could take them back.

"How's Mother?" Rye asked and studied me. Sometimes when she asks me this question I lie, but when she looks at me she knows I cant lie.

"Not so good," I admitted, "She isn't coming."

"Of course not. I didn't expect her to, she is too sick."

We walked in silence again and I finally saw it, The town hall. Where we always have the reaping, where someone's life is going to change dramatically. I shuddered and looked at my big sister. She was looking at me and Laden, probably thinking that something could happen to me and when her son grows up, this could be his fate. I smile at her and she notices that I was looking and pulled on a cheery smile.

But I knew it was fake.