56th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 1: The Reaping

"I need a tie here," a girl yelled, carrying a lamb in her arms, a group of teens and adults surrounding her as they worked on the marking of the lambs. Following down the line, each job was done, the lamb's tail and balls tied off, ears clipped and tagged and then finally vaccinated before being released into the fields. Her hands ached from the constant catching and holding of the lambs, the little buggers thrashing at her as she clung them to her chest.

"Tes, grab the dogs and heard this half to the next paddock."

The girl looked up, her face flushed from the heat. Quickly she nodded, setting down the 489th lamb of the day. She grabbed at the chance for a break, her being up since the crack of dawn, the longest member working full time besides her brother Max. She leapt over the fence with ease, her leather boots hitting the dirt hard before racing towards the quad bikes ahead.

"Come on boys," Tes called out, whistling as two German shepherds ran to her side, following her as she drove into the paddock.

Tes has been rustling sheep and cattle since she could walk. Learning to drive a quad at the age of 4. Her now at the age of 18, she had it down to an art, the sheep funnelling through the open gate.

The sky bursted into colours of purples and pinks by the time Tes and her brother Max made their way home. Over 1000 sheep were marked today, not nearly as much as yesterday but it would make do. Four days down, three to go. Tes was starting to feel it too, her body aching as she entered the house. To say their home was small was an understatement. Every room felt cramped, the aesthetic cringeworthy. Leather and wool. From the coating of the lounge to the blankets lying across their beds. Somehow Max had disappeared off somewhere, leaving Tes to put it upon herself to cook dinner. The only good thing about living in district 10 was the accessibility to meat. Pork, lamb or beef. Veggies were less than easy to get, but still enough to portion out through the week. Looking at her options, she decided a simple steak and mash would be enough, the weight of their portion decrease beginning to hit.

Max soon walked in through the door with a hand full of books of some sort.

"Did some bartering I see?" Tes smirked, her brother moving into her view, placing the mountains of books across the bench.

"Just some journals here and there. Plus I found a book you might enjoy," he smiled, slipping into his usual stool.

"Unless it's about 'How to avoid the reaping without getting exiled' I'm good," she joked, flipping the steak in her pan.

"Tomorrow's your last time. The chance is if you haven't been chosen already, you won't be."

"I sure hope so."

Tes began to plate up the food, Max shuffling around her to grab the cups and cutlery.

"Teresa and Maxim Moretti."

Both siblings turned to see a man covered in white armour standing at the door, two identical to him by his side.

"That would be us," Max spoke, his words slightly venomous.

"We are here to remind you of the reaping ceremony that will be held at the town centre tomorrow at noon. It will be Teresa last year and must attend."

"We know this already; we're not oblivious!" Tes snapped, her jaw tensing.

"This is unnecessary," Max stepped forward, the men unwavering.

"Due to your family's history, we must..."

"Our Family's HISTORY!" Tes yelled, rage boiling inside of her.

"Our mother was a hero. This is fucking bullshit. Leave before I fricking..." Max pinched her arm tight before Tes could finish.

"We understand." He said, his voice tired but there was a slight tone of annoyance.