In the ruins of a place known as North America lies the nation of Panem, a shining Capitol surrounded by twelve outlying districts. The Capitol is harsh and cruel and keeps the districts in line by sending two tributes between the ages of twelve and...
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A soft breeze strokes my sandy tresses as my eyes flutter open. Sunlight seeping in through the canvas curtain, illuminating the stale house. The dust in the air is much more evident in the sun's rays. Sitting up, I lean against the splintered wall; glancing over to the bed next to me, my brother is sleeping fraughtfully. His dark brows knit together and a frown on his lips. His hands clenching the sheets, remnants of dirt under his fingernails from working in the coal mines. Bentley has every right to worry, today is the worst day of the year. Reaping Day.
I know he's worried for me, our family seems to have bad luck when it comes to these things. It was only just four years ago when my older sister, Cassia, was reaped. I was twelve then and my brother just turned nineteen having been completely spared of The Hunger Games. However, the burden of my name being in that glass bowl affects me just as much as it affects him. I'm all he's got now. We're all that we've got now.
Swinging my legs off of the bed, I crouched down in front of our nightstand that separates the two beds. Opening the top drawer gently to not make any noise that will disrupt my brother from his rest, since he rarely ever gets any. I pull out my trousers, and a long sleeved shirt. Removing the night shirt, I slip on the top but left my undergarments on. While pulling up my pants and grabbing the comb on the bed table, I sit back down on the bed brushing through the tangles that reside in my locks. And french braid a section of hair, tying the rest into a ponytail with a white ribbon embroidered with flowers, only leaving out the shorter strands that wouldn't reach.
Standing up I slid effortlessly into my boots. A small shimmer on the night table catching my attention, my fingers seizing the compass locket before clasping it around my neck. I know to others it looks small and insignificant, they'd think that I should probably sell it for something such as food. But it was my mother's. I have only ever seen her in photographs. Her blonde hair and blue eyes that we both share. She passed away after giving birth to me, then my sister Cassia wore her necklace to have something of mom, then she gave it to me when she was reaped during those last five minutes to say goodbye. The necklace gives me an odd sense of security, something I wish I knew but know I will never have.
Taking those few steps to the door, I reach for my forage bag that is hanging on a hook. A simple reminder so I don't forget it. Giving one last look to my sleeping brother, I push open the door slightly and slip outside.
The rising dawn blinds me as I shut the door gently behind me. Our part of District 12, nicknamed the Seam, is usually filled with coal miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour. Men and women with rounded backs, swollen knuckles and broken black finger nails.
My brother has been working in the mines for about five and a half years now and I still don't know how he handles it; trapped hundreds of feet below the surface, unable to reach the sunlight or breathe the fresh air. I went down there once for a school field trip, my chest clenching more the deeper we descended. I remember the disorientation of the rock coming together, concaving into me, choking my lungs, but the worst was the fear that I could, in fact, die down there. Losing all ability to see the outside world.
