Thunder ➳ Peeta Mellark

I. The Three Keene

CHAPTER ONE

I. ( THE THREE KEENE )

PERHAPS it was the fear that kept her away, or maybe the day of the year. Everything was slow in Panem, the days trickled to nights and dawns to dusk. It was easy to loose count of the days and fall into ignorant contentment with the possibility of your name being called from a bowl of qualifiers.

This wasn't the case for Diana.

She'd been counting the days, first with her fingers, then her mind. Diana dreaded the day like any other district child not trained from the moment they were born.

She despised the Capital and the fashion at which they glamorized the Hunger Games. It was entertainment. To see an innocent become a sinner. A child a killer. Or for them, a tribute become a victor. It was all the same.

Barefoot, Diana walked the dirt road in a pensive state. She observed the farmers, the plowers, the harvesters, the people she knew for what seemed to be forever. Diana didn't want to think today might be the last she'd see them again.

Approaching was a small house with wood rooting so badly holes developed through the walls and the faint sound of ginger tea on the stove rung through the air.

Coughing, coughing. Diana pierced her blue eyes through the crack in the door.

A boy with similar blue eyes and dark black-brown hair sat at a rocky dinner table. He coughed loudly, nearly gagging at the taste of mold-ridden bread. "She shouldn't be out, she wasted that water taking a bath and going out to hunt afterwards," the boy spoke.

"What do you expect? It's nearly a tradition of hers," another boy remarked. He had similar dark- brown hair yet shared nothing more with the older boy. His eyes were a forrest green, like the ivy on the walls and the color of an emerald. The hair atop his head curled rather than lay flat, and he slouched in a way only a young child would, making his slim figure curve at the shoulders.

"I would expect her to have some sense of sadness. You know, spend time with her family before the Reaping.. maybe comfort her siblings beforehand!"

The one with the green eyes chuckled. "Radley, you're just sleepy, maybe you should take a rest before the Reaping."

Radley sighed, scratching his head slowly. "You know if Diana stopped staring through the hole in the door and gave me the damn medicine maybe I could have some peace of mind."

Diana smiled, pushing open the wooden door in a swift motion. "Oh don't get your panties in a twist, I've got it right here." Under the cloak the girl had draped over herself, she handed over a paper bag with a glass container holding a repulsively violet liquid substance.

The younger boy scrunched his eyebrows together, backing away in repugnance. "How could you possibly drink that? It smells like one of those dead rats in the field after the chemical spray."

Radley slapped the top of the boy's head, playfully. "Shut up Atti, if you felt as ill as I did you'd be clawing for this medicine."

Atticus rolled his eye's at the older brother's comment, leaving the room to retrieve a suitable tie.

"Anyways, where have you been all morning? Hunting? On Reaping day? I always thought you weren't the brightest of us three but to actually hunt outside the district boundaries on the day of the Reaping? Who would want to bargain today?"

"Quit acting like dad, Radley. The peacekeepers are always keeping an eye peeled for catches like the deer I got today."

"And you risked selling to a peacekeeper?"

"I had to get your stupid medicine somehow, and you're welcome before you say thanks for my efforts."

A laughter emerged and a silence soon followed, with the sound of his spoon hitting the sides of the bowl on occasion.

"Do you think dad'll make it back in time to say farewell?" Diana inquired, watching the eldest of the Keene's pour the liquid down his dry throat.

Raising his arm exhaustingly, Radley sipped away the violet on the corners of his chapped lips. "If not, we'll see him in the crowd." His younger sister stared intently at the once strong boy. Radley held a yellow hue to his olive skin, and his eyes flooded with crimson color. When he spoke, his breath was husky and he had the pronunciation of a drunk man. He was intensely ill and had remained ill for the past month.

With heavy footsteps, Atticus entered the kitchen, feverishly attempting to fix his tie to no avail.

Diana grinned at the fourteen year old, approaching him with a soft touch. "You'll never get it right if you do it that way. Here, I'll do it."

Diana pulled on the grey fabric to and fro, making a loop in an expert manner as she had done multiple times prior. However, the blue eyed sister did not notice her sibling shaking slightly and gazing at his newly shined shoes with anxiety. "Diana?"

"Hm?"

"You know how that bowl has everyone's name in it?"

"Of course I do, why?"

"What.. what if the name that comes out is mine?"

The black haired girl froze and it was clear behind her Radley did too. She didn't reply for a moment. What was she supposed to say? It was slim to none he would be chosen. But what if he was picked? She was a female and he was male, she couldn't volunteer for him. "Oh, oh no. You're name won't be called, I promise, you won't be called-" Diana's voice hitched towards the end, her eyes brimmed with tears, not daring to look at the sweet boy's face.

"But, what if this is something you can't protect me from? What if you can't promise on this?"

The chair squealed and both heads shot it's way. "Then I'll take your place," Radley reassured with with confidence, "I can promise you, I will take your place."