Saffra - Chapter 1

I sit by the water, calmly staring out at the sunlight hitting the surface and adding a sparkly texture to the sight. Today was the reaping. Hearing footsteps behind me, I recognise the jingle of my friend's bunch of keys around his neck. He was probably here to comfort me, or tell me that my name's only in there three times.

"The reaping's starting soon. You should get ready," he tells me. No comfort, but I'm not surprised. Today is a grim day for us, so to find such emotion would be scarce.

I stand, brush the dust off of my black capris, and follow him towards our houses. We live right next to each other, so we see one another a lot. He walks into his house to change out of his t-shirt and jeans. I walk into my own house to change out of my dark blue tanktop and black capris, and hang the dark blue jacket tied around my waist on the hook near the door. "I'm changing into my reaping outfit!" I call out to my mom, who I can recognise as in the kitchen due to the clanging of pots and pans. "All right!" she calls back over the din of putting dishes away.

I run up the stairs to my room, strip my capris and tanktop off, and put the "dress" on. I look into the mirror, making sure nothing's out of place. It's really just a really long tanktop, nothing too formal. It's a light shade of blue, and goes down to about my knees. I put on some black boots, and brush my black, spiky hair. I add just a lit of mascara that's a dark purple, to compliment my ocean blue eyes. My black hair has red dyed to the bit of tips. When my hair was down, the red was like highlights in my hair. It looked pretty cool, if I do say so myself.

"The Reaping's just about to start!" I hear my mother call from downstairs. "Coming!" I shout back in response. Running out the door in my slightly-heeled boots, I climb onto the railing and slide down it, landing on my feet at the end. "You're going to break your ankle doing that," my mother says. Grinning, we walk out of the door to head towards the stage. Crossing my fingers, I hope none of my friends are called.

As we reach the gathering, I look to my mom. "May I go to the front of the crowd?" If I am called, I don't want to be shoving through a crowd of watchful, criticising eyes. Seeing the logic in my question, she nods. I weave in and out through the stitches of the blanket of people just waiting for the tributes' names to be called. As I reach the front, the girl tribute is called. "Thalia Herriot!" I widen my eyes in shock. She was the weakest, puniest girl in the whole district! Trembling like a do-gooder being sent to the Peacekeepers for being framed, she is ushered towards the steps. I, however, intervene. "I volunteer as tribute!" I call out, and the girl turns to me, her pleading expression changing to one of immense gratitude. I am shoved from behind towards the men that usher me in the direction of the stairs. I know that shove; I'd grown up with it my whole life. It was the biggest, meanest bully you'll ever meet. Huck Edenthaw.

Smirking, I nod politely to the passing Peacekeepers and the 12-year-old girl. As I reach the steps, I also bow my head slightly to the escort, Rupalia Erwin. I slightly curtsy to the boiling crowd. A lot of them had hoped to see the little girl scared, then slaughtered. They did not appreciate me taking this from them. Ignoring their glowering, I look to Ms. Erwin as she pulls out the boy tribute's name. "Huck Edenthaw!" Smirking, we glance at each other in a challenging stare that lasts a few moments. As he comes up, he slightly bows, and most of District Four cheers. They knew they could count on Huck more than the stubborn, stuck-up Lotus.

We go to shake hands, and he squeezes my hand more than necessary, a giant smirk on his face. Get ready to have that smirk wiped right off your face. I think to myself. Leaning forward, I use the other arm to balance myself on his shoulder and stomp on his foot with my boot heel. I take step back. "I am so, sorry!" I say, my whole face distorting into a sheepish expression. I could be stubborn all right, but I knew how to act. Chuckles and giggles ripple throughout the crowd, despite the anger it held just a few minutes ago. The escort then holds the microphone towards us, and we say the second-most cliche phrase in the whole Hunger Games phrase book. "Happy Hunger Games!"

Rupalia finishes it with the first.
"May the odds be ever in your favour!"

Sighing, I follow her to the rooms so we could talk to our families. Three minutes would definitely not be enough. I saunter into the room, and sit down, waiting for the first guest. My mother bursts in, and hugs me. I notice soothing off, but I can't place it right now. She backs off a bit and holds out her hand, placing my palm underneath it. She sets an angel wing charm onto it, and I realise what's off. She was giving me the charm she always wore on a necklace. Shocked, I hug her. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, sweetie." she replies. The Peacekeepers come in and drag her out, and some more usher in Thalia and her mother.

Thalia clings to my neck. "Thank you so much!" she says, her face buried in my hair. I pat her back. "It's all right." I grab her shoulders and hold her in front of me. "I'll win. I'll win for you." Smiling, her mother crouches down to me. "Thank you so much for protecting my daughter.. The Herriots are forever in your debt." I shake my head. "Really, it's all right. It was nothing." Before she can protest, the Peacekeepers shove them out and show me to the train. I had a feeling that the ride was not going to be fun.

As we wait for the train to take us to the Capitol, I watch the TV to see who the other tributes were. I write down their name, and write down quick descriptions of each one in a small notebook that could fit in my pocket. Afterwards, I take a short nap after all the events.