Through a Fox's Eyes

Chapter 1

The sound of the morning bell made me jolt from my sleep. The bell was different, not like our ordinary wake up calls every morning. This wake up call is harsh, something like a warning for a great disaster. Of course, it’s reaping day, it’s been the same for 74 years.

Suezette, my older sister,  nudged me for the second time.

“Wake up Emilia. School’s earlier than usual.”

School. Something important to our district, District five. District five is the district responsible for Panem’s electricity, for Panem’s power. Our houses are far from each other, and power lines are everywhere. A place where there are no power lines in its corners is the school. School is something precious to me. Somewhere I can think. Where people don’t holler. Where kids don’t have to listen to the power lines to avoid electrocution. Where the hum of the power lines are escaped. Where I can find peace. The District is big, bigger than its neighboring districts, and there three places where we are not obliged  to go to. One is the Nuclear energy plantation. People who can afford school can most likely get a job there, feed their families well. It is the main source of electricity to supply the whole Panem . Another is the Solaria. The Solaria is the chamber for production, storage, and distribution of solar energy. Solar energy is the emergency energy for Panem. The last place is the woods. The woods is the boundary of our district to District 4 and District 6. Mystery often occurs in the woods. No one has ever reached the woods. Except Marvel.

“. . .And that is why we have the Hunger Games every year.”

Every year. For 74 years, the 12 districts reap 24 children from ages 12-18 years old to participate in the Annual Hunger Games. Slaughter House, as my mother called it. The tributes kill each other, outsmart each other, and do everything, just to go home. The winner goes home alive, of course, famous, wealthy, and their victory means the district’s “harvest”. Harvest is the time for celebration; the Capitol gives such big amount of delicacies to the winning district. And the victor can have a house in the Victor’s Village. A luxurious home, made for victors of the Hunger Games, fully made by famous interior artists from the Capitol. And as for the fallen tributes, their body is taken by the capitol, and driven back to their districts in a box.

Class finished, and I waited for Suezette in the gates of the school. Suezette, now 16, has blond, long hair. Her eyes are green, unlike mine, which is brown. She is the strong one, she’s been strong ever since our parents  died.

Father was whipped to death, being suspected of stealing 4 loaves of bread. Stealing is a big crime, but it was not him who stole it. The peacekeeper had a bad day, so he poured his anger towards my father. The last thing he said before his final breathe was ‘Emi’.

Mother, a strong woman, who worked in the nuclear plants, died and powdered, like dust, in one of the nuclear programming rooms. The rooms are designed to keep the explosion only in the room itself, and she was gone the moment she tried to reach the door. I was 13 that time. Pain was the only thing I felt. It was hard, we even  tried to sell my sister’s handmade bracelets, and tried a variety of work to keep us going.

Suezette and I walked home. Quiet, unlike every normal day. She often thinks about Luce, her boyfriend. Luce was the tribute for the 72nd Hunger Games. He was the 19th tribute who died in the games. Every year, my sister remembers him, how they hugged and kissed before the peacekeepers took her away from him after he was reaped. How she begged the heavens to save her one true love. How she never watched the games, and just sat in a corner, patiently waiting for Luce to come home. But he never did. And my sister never did. She just became a living corpse, just glancing at us, not talking, not reading, not cooking, and not making her bracelets. She just sat in the same corner, everyday; holding the bracelet Luce made her.

But that changed. She faced the awful truth. That Luce is gone. That he will never return. And she was happy she did. And I was happy for her. Slowly, she returned to her old self.

“It’s reaping day again huh?” I tried to start a conversation.

“Yeah. Better iron your little white dress”

“I did last night.”

“You need to forget him.” She told me, out of the blue while holding my hand.

“I would if I can. But I can’t Sue, I can never do that.”

“I have gone through it. And as far as I know, Marvel disappeared a year ago.  And now, look at you. Still sobbing, still miserable.”

I didn’t answer back. She was right again.