Rue's Song {A Hunger Games Fan Fiction}

Chapter 1 The Reaping

I woke up cold and nervous.  This is the first year my name would be entered in the Reaping for the Hunger Games.  The past week I have been having nightmares I was picked.  I know dreams have meanings behind every detail you dream up.  Does this mean my name will be picked?

My name is in their nine times.  One for my age and eight for each member of our family.  My name seems like it is in their a lot but my seventeen year old cousins name is in there twenty times.  Their are some kids who's names are in there fifty times!  The odds seem to be in my favor of me not getting picked.  After all, we are a moderately populated District.  But if I do get picked, are the odds in my favor?  I can't leave my siblings and I am the bread winner of my family.  My mom is crippled in one leg and my father has heart and lung problems.  I have scavenged for food all my life.  Even though me and my siblings harvest, it's not enough to feed a hungry family of eight. 

As I shifted out of bed, I saw Azalia, my eleven year old sister stir.  We are really close siblings.  She looks just like me people mistake us as twins.  I step onto her bed and she snaps up.  I can tell she is just as nervous as I am.

"Why are you up? It's 7:30!" I said.

"Why are you up?" she responded.

"Couldn't sleep."

She knew by the expression on my face why I couldn't sleep.

"They will not pick you!" she said.  "Next to District 10 and 9 we are a big District.  There are only a few slips with your name on out of the several thousand slips possibly millions because our District is very poor." 

I could tell she was nervous too.  It seems as a lot of color left her face and she sounded fatigue.  When she becomes nervous or extremely sad, or shocked she gets nauseous.  Sometimes she will even vomit.

"I can't sleep so I am going outside and get some fresh air." I said.

I changed into a faded blue plaid shirt, a pair of jeans with large holes on both legs exposing my knees, long socks with holes at the bottom, and I lace up my work boots.  I brush my hair and teeth and wash my face.  I walk into the cold kitchen tho make some coffee to wake me up.

I started boiling water over the stove and ground some coffee beans and put them in the boiling water.  After a couple of minutes I poured the coffee in a kettle and placed it on the stove.  I poured me a cup in my favorite mug, added goat cream to it, and walked on the porch and sat on the rocker.

Usually there are people on everyone's porches, people walking down the dirt path half a mile to get to the orchards, and people talking amongst each other.  Now no one is outside but me.  No one is working today because of the Reaping.  Everyone's shutters are closed because the Reaping isn't until two so people are sleeping in. 

After about five minutes, Azalia walks out with a mug in her hand and moves another rocker beside mine.  We talk on the porch and drink coffee together.  After we finish, we head to the barn behind our house.  Azalia gets the eggs and feeds and waters the chickens.  I feed and water Barambe, our donkey and feed, water, brush, and milk Quin our goat.

Barambe is the kindest animal you could ever meet, and Quin has been what we mainly get food from.  We get meat and eggs from our five chicken.  We usually eat the chicks when they get big.  We get the best tasting milk from Quin.  We breed her yearly, and when the baby gets big usually around Christmas, we have goat for Christmas dinner. 

Just as I finish milking and bottling Quin's milk, Azalia comes with a basket with today's five, large, brown eggs.  I place the bottles in the basket beside the eggs and rinse out the milk pail.  I let Quin in our small plot of grass to graze.  She goes out weekly to graze.  By then the grass is tall ready for her to munch on.