The Phoenix Games // Minecraft Diaries

c h a p 1

c h a p 1
Aphmau POV
~
It was a rainy day in District 11. As it was usually this time of year. But, also around this time of year, the reaping for the Games take place.
And I don't mean little marbles or board games, I mean life or death games- the Hunger Games.
When I woke up, rain was beating harshly on the window. Outside, it seemed, to be a complete wasteland of washed away crops that the citizens of 11 have worked all year for, only to be washed away by rainfall.
The room was cold. The pillow, the single blanket, the straw mattress. Cold as in someone hasn't been in it. And I know that I've been in it, trying to get a peaceful sleep before today.
It was reaping day.
When I slowly rolled out of bed, I noticed that the bed next to mine, my mother's, was also empty. But this wasn't abnormal, as she usually got out of bed before me to make food and tend to the garden.
The wooden floor was frigid to walk on, so with quick and small steps I went down the hall to the kitchen. Along the way, I hum a tune that is commonly known amongst citizens of 11, a song.

Cold are the people, winter of life. We tremble in shadows this cold endless night. Frozen in the snow lye roses, sleeping. Flowers that will bloom at the the sunrise. Fire of hope is our only warmth, weary it's flames will be dying soon.
Spirit among us, shine like the star. Your light that guides shepherds and kings from afar. Shimmer in the sky so empty, lonely, waiting for embrace of the sun's kiss. Star unknowing of night and day, spirits gather 'round today.

Destination reached, my mother is standing by the sink, looking over the potted plant in the window covered in rainfall.
"Aphmau, sweetie, you're up early. Did something wake you?" She asks gently, almost a whisper.
"The rain," I reply.
"Are you sure? Sure it wasn't nerves from the reaping?" Mother knows me too good.
"Maybe a little," I say. Mother embraces me in a hug.
"Sweetie, you're sixteen now and have taken out 4 tesserae,"
"5." I correct.
"5 tesserae, you're name is in there about 10 times. 10 out of 10,000. Feel better now?" She asks. When I nod ever-so-slightly, she pecks me forehead.
"Do we still have to do the garden this morning, it's pouring." I ask innocently, desperate to change the subject. I stare out the dining room window, squished between the table and the window itself.
"Yep, unfortunately gardening has to be a no-holds-bar job, that is, if you want food for the next month." She says with a witty giggle. I can see, sort of, out of the corner of my eye, her smiling at me. Her long blond hair up in a delicate Dutch braid, still reaching her hips. Her blue eyes sparkle in the slight light coming from the window. We look nothing alike. She insists that I look like my father, but she also insists not to tell me who that is.
"Now go get dressed, we'll get outside in about 10 minutes." She tells me. Grabbing an apple from the bowl, I walk across the still-freezing cold floor back to our room. Our poor, poor room.
I open the clothes trunk, and grab and old green and blue dress to garden in and my raincoat. My old, muddy, worn-out boots are sitting by the door. I slip on all these clothes and head out to the back yard, hobbling while trying to put on my boots. Those boots are the only shows I own besides my black sandals, which I only use on reaping day.
            "Ready? Got your hat?" Mother asks as she opens the back door. I nod and put on my old rain hat and walk out into the ominous, gray rain.
          We spend the next 20 minutes outside, in the pouring rain, weeding flowerbeds and digging holes and planting new seeds. During this time, I try to imagine myself in the Games. I would be the first to go, third at best. I hate fighting, and hand-to-hand combat is not my thing. Even if it meant I win the Games, I wouldn't kill another tribute. Lay a hand on, for that matter.
            "Okay! We're done here!" Mother almost screams, trying to get her voice over the pitter-patter of the rain against the moist, grassy ground. I open the door, into a much warmer home, almost seeming like stepping into a different dimension.
           "Go get yourself ready for the reaping," Mother says, patting me on the back as I hang my coat on a hook. I smile.
         Waddling back to the back room, I know exactly what I'm going to wear.
        I open the trunk again and reach down to the bottom and grab my yellow, tee length dress that has a bottom of tulle, and a top of some shiny fabric. It has golden trim. Mother made it for my 16th birthday, and the fabrics alone cost more than my house. It's faded, being at the bottom of the chest for six months and has a small hole on the bottom. She really cares, and I'm grateful.
        "Mother?!" I call after I put on the dress and my black dress sandals with socks. "Can you do my hair?"
         It's been about an hour, and now the rain has cleared and Mother and I sit on the front porch as she does my hair up in a Dutch crown braid. "One more thing, sweetie," she says as she finished my hair. She pulls out scissors from her knitting bag. "Stand up."
         I obey, a little confused. She cuts into my dress, slicing it right at my knee. "You need a more big girl look," she says with a motherly smile. You know the smile, the one I'm talking about.
         From my porch, I see some kids with their parents already walking down to the Justice Building. I see Xander Cole, my crush since forever. He's a year older and has brown hair and light blue eyes. Then I see his brother, Laurance, who I hate. He has liked me since forever.
           "I guess we have to go now," she says as she puts the scissors down and holds out her arm, offering my escort.
          "I guess so," I say semi-joyfully. I accept her arm, and walk down the porch steps into the road. The dusty, gravely, almost non-existing road.
         "Name?" The sign-in lady asks me before we get into behind the Justice Building gates.
           "Aphmau. Aphmau St. Irene." I see her go through her book until she reaches St. Irene, Aphmau sandwiched between Starling, Harlum and Stingson, George.
          "You may enter as a registered citizen." She say plainly. As she does every year. I smile to her, one day expecting different results, such as returned smiled. But no change.
         "Aph!" Mother calls before a reach the place where the rest of the 16 year old girls stand. "I want you to have this." She puts a turquoise and gold necklace around my neck.
        "Thank you, it's beautiful. Now I gotta get over here." I say, pointing to where I need to be. I catch the eye of Xander, who smiles at me. I smile awkwardly back, with a slight hand wave.
         Once everyone is in the correct spot, Mayor Barlow comes out and gives a speech about the reaping and the Games, his own experience, being a victor himself.
        "Without any further ado, I'm going to let Ms. Genevieve Coraflower take the stage to chose our District 11 tributes."
          A woman walks out on stage wearing a lavender gown with silver details, including flowers and birds. Her skin is tinted a light shade a purple, while still looking a little bit human pink. Her hair is at least two feet above her head, swept up in what looks to be a tornado of silver jewels.
        "A little over-dramatic?" A girl next to me says who I recognize as Ashton Winters. I giggle and look to the stage.
"Welcome to the reaping, young ladies and gentlemen. As usual, ladies first." She wobbles over to the big glass bowl full of names of innocent children that don't deserve to be in this Capitol Game.
"And the female tribute from District 11 is," -she carefully unwraps the folded sheet-"Apple-mau St. Irene? Is that how you say it?"
"It's Aphmau," I whisper to myself as all the girls around me spread out, even Ashton. For the first time in my life, I feel vulnerable and weak. Useless. I fall to floor with a hard blow.
"It's Aphmau!" I shout as I will myself up and let two whited-out Peacekeepers escort me to the stage, similar to how my mother did this morning, but harsher.
"Now for the boys," Genevieve continues. "Then the male tribute to compete in the Hunger Games from District 11 is...Xander Cole."
I breathe a breathe of relief from my spot on the stage. If I have to go die, that thought sends a tear down my face, at least I can do it with my crush.
"I volunteer!"
Crap. Never mind, I guess.