Crown Jewels: Cashmere's Story

Chapter 1: Reaping Day

Shk! 

Shk! 

Shk! 

Three silver knives land in the targets in front of me.  

Shk! 

A knife buries itself in the target on the left. 

A spear whistles through the air, sharp point glistening, about to stab me in the heart- 

But I see it coming.   I tuck and roll, letting the spear whiz over my head, then throw my last knife at a target on the right.   

Perfect.  

--1:30 pm--- 

"Cashmere, are you ready?" My mother stands in the doorway in a long emerald green dress, her hair a glossy raven curtain cascading down her back. 

I take one last look in the mirror in my bedroom: my dark, sparkly purple dress winks at me in the sunlight, and I have on matching pumps. My hair is half-up half down and I add a sheen of gloss to my lips.

Appearance is everything, especially as a Career from District 1.  The way I present myself may very well be the difference between life and death in the arena. What people don't get is the game starts as soon as you're reaped, not when you enter the arena.

"You look beautiful, darling." Mother curls one of my blond ringlets around her finger.  "Let's go join your father and Gloss." 

Father and Gloss are at the bottom of the stairs waiting for us, both clad in spotless suits.   

 Mother and I join them, and we walk out of the house.  We live a few minutes away from the square in the Victor's Village.  

As soon as we leave, we're greeted with thousands of pairs of eyes.  

Father was the winner of the 39th hunger games, and Mother won the 42rd. Gloss brought home a win last year.   Now everyone's expecting me to win.   I come from a family of victors, so they think killing should be in my blood.  

My mother slaughtered seven, an all-time record, and my father committed one of the most gruesome murders in Hunger Games history.  

Gloss may not have done either of these, but he had the Capitol at his feet and sponsors showering him with gifts left and right. 

"Cashmere," my father hisses under his breath. 

Right.  I square my shoulders back, lift my head high and half-smile. 

I remember the image I'm promoting: a beautiful daughter from a family of victors, charismatic, subtly flirtatious, and mysterious.   

Mother, father, Gloss, and the other nine district one victors go stand on the stage in the square in front of our gleaming silver Justice building, and I take my place amongst the other fifteen-year-old girls. 

"Hi Cashmere," My best friend Amethyst chirps. We've known each other since birth and train together after school.  

"Hey Amethyst," I reply.  

"I'm so excited!  You're going to volunteer, and go to the Capitol and win and you'll be rich and famous and..." She trails off.  Amethyst tries to look happy, but I can see glints of dejection in her eyes.  

Amethyst used to wake up at 4 AM to train, then train after school until 9 PM.  She rewatched old Hunger Games videos and took notes.

But it wasn't enough.

"Hey, it's ok.  You can volunteer next year," I reassure her.  But we both know that she's at the bottom of the volunteer lists.

I don't hear her reply, because our escort  Leto is already standing on the stage in front of the microphone.  

This year he's in lime green pants and a sleeveless yellow shirt, with green snake tattoos running up and down his arms.  His wide-set eyes are electric blue and coated in red eyeshadow, and his curly purple hair is somehow gelled into giant spikes.   

"He looks better than he did last year," I whisper to Amethyst.  

She nods. Last year, he showed up shirtless with a giant tattoo of President Snow on his chest.  How crazy can Capitol fashion get? 

"Welcome to the Reaping of the 64th Hunger Games.  And may the odds be ever in your favor!" He announces, then the video about how District 13 was blown up and the Capitol was generous blah blah blah starts playing.

  I barely pay attention to the video, my mind is elsewhere.  Name gets called.  Yell I volunteer.  Go up. Name gets called. Yell I volunteer. Go up.  

"For the girls." Leto lowers his hand into the giant clear ball of paper strips with our names on it and he digs his hand around in it for a good thirty seconds.  The suspense is killing me! 

I barely hear who he calls because I'm already yelling "I volunteer as tribute!"   

Then I see Amethyst's face which turns from surprise, to worry, to anger.  

"No!  Don't you dare! I was picked!" She screams.  We have a whole other conversation with our eyes.  

This is my chance! You can't take it from me. You have everything.  She says. 

"I volunteer as tribute," I try again, making my way up to the front.     

"No!  I volunteer!" She protests, shoving her way past the other girls.

We both try to go to the front. She runs ahead, but I grab her arm and hiss under my breath.  "Amethyst Shine, listen to me.  I volunteer.  We both know that...." 

You don't stand a chance. 

 Neither of us wants to say the ugly truth out loud.  The peacekeepers lead me away, one gripping my arm tightly.  Not that I would run away, but last year's girl was crazy. 

"What's your name, dear?"  Leto asks me, even though, being the children and sister of victors, everyone knows.

"Cashmere Tanner," I answer, lifting my chin.

"Now for the boys." Leto does the same agonizingly long process, and finally-finally!  Withdraws his hand along with a slip of paper.   He unfolds it, but before he can read the name- 

"I volunteer as tribute!" It's Jasper.  

Jasper, my main rival in everything.  School.  Training.  We're even apprenticed to the same jeweler.  It's always me and him, fighting for the win. 

But that was child's play.  This is the real game.   

Everyone is silent as he makes his way up the stage steps.  His rippling muscles are ever so prominent, his tan brown skin glistening with sweat, his jaw clenched.

His cold, hard brown eyes bore into my slanted green ones as we shake hands.  Unlike most, I don't flinch under his gaze.  Instead, I return his stare. 

"I give you this year's District 1 tributes, Cashmere Tanner and Jasper Khatri!"   

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Tell me what you think in the comments.  I'm very open to feedback!