Aspen

I wake up late. Almost 9:00AM. Here in District 11, you're supposed to be up and working in the fields and orchards by 7:00AM. The last time someone was this late, there was a public whipping in the square.

I jump out af bed and am just putting on my old, worn out work clothes when I remember something. It's Reaping Day. I don't have to work.

I sigh and change into a nicer outfit reserved for this special day. I allow myself a few minutes to stare into the mirror leaning on my desk. I study my deep brown eyes, my mess of brown hair, my hollow cheeks.

After a while I decide it's time to wake my sister Olive. I make my way through the near empty house I share with my parents and siblings to her room. My parents, my older sister Violet, and my youngest sister Cedar are already at work. I find Olive still asleep in the twin bed she shares with Cedar, who is four.

"Hey, Oli." I whisper, leaning over her and giving her shoulder a gentle shake. "It's time to get up."

Olive slowly opens her eyes and looks at me in confusion for a moment.

"It's Reaping Day." She says. I can see the fear in her dark brown eyes.

"Yeah." I say. "Don't be scared. Your name's only in there twice. Two out o' thousands." The reason her name's only in there two times is because it's required, and I wouldn't let her take any tesserae.

A tessera is a year's worth of grain and oil for one person, that an eligible district resident can get in exchange for their name being put in the pool one more time per each tessera. My name is in twelve times. Six because it's required, plus one tessera for each member of my family.

"I'm still scared." Olive whispers.

I sigh. "Me too."

I have to practically drag her out of bed and over to the small dresser in her room. I leave her alone to change, and make my way to the tiny kitchen to make us breakfast. There isn't really much to prepare though. Just one of the rolls mother makes from the tessera grain for each of us. That's all we can afford to eat. We barely scrape by with the provisions we have, and even then we often go the bed with our stomachs grumbling.

Olive steps shyly into the kitchen where I'm sitting nibbling a roll. She's wearing a knee length light brown dress with buttons down the torso that used to belong to Violet, and her usual worn out brown leather boots. Her long, brown hair is in two Indian braids tied with pieces of twine. She almost looks like she could be headed for the orchards.

"Come eat breakfast, then we'll leave." I say solumnly. She sits across from me at the table and bites into her roll. Once she's done we just sit there for a while.

"I wish momma and daddy was here. And Violet and Cedar too." She says.

"Me too. But they ain't here and we gotta deal with it. Now brush your teeth and we'll head out."

Olive ducks her head and trudges from the room. I clench my hands together and frown down at them. I don't mean to be harsh, but I know I have to help Olive grow up nice and strong. I can't let her dwell on impossible dreams.

I brush my teeth and join her at the door. We're just about to leave when Olive turns on her heel and runs for her room.

"Olive! What the hell?!" I turn to run after her, but she's already coming back. She has something in her hands.

"What's that?" I ask, trying to grab for it, but she pulls away. "Olive, quit acting up!" I lunge for the object again, and she pulls away again, but this time she holds it up for me to see. I recognize it immediately. It's the crumpled family photo she keeps hidden in her dresser. I study the blurred people in the photo. Mother's caring eyes, father's square jaw and shoulders, Violet's hands, which have been ruined by year's working in the orchards and fields. A slightly younger version of me stands tall and proud with a hand on Olive's shoulder. Olive is staring down at a baby Cedar in her arms, a huge grin on her face.

"In case I get reaped." Olive mutters. Tributes are allowed to take one object from home into the arena; a district token.

I sigh and place my hand on Olive's shoulder, mimicking the photo, and we begin the all too short walk to the town square. We walk in silence, our heads bowed and our feet dragging. Fear grips our hearts.

The square is already packed when we arrive, and we're quite a bit early. I wanted to get here early so we'd have less time to break down at home.

We head to registration, where a peacekeeper pricks our fingers for blood samples so he knows who we are, and directs us to the proper areas. Olive is sent to the thirteen year olds section near the back, and I am showed to the seventeen year olds section near the front. Only the eighteen year olds separate me from the Justice Building. The reason we're arranged with the oldest closest to the stage and the youngest furthest is because tho older you are, the more likely it is you'll get reaped. The tributes chosen are usually in the eighteen to fifteen range, but this isn't always the case. The girl last year was only twelve, but her name was in twenty-three times. Her family had nine children, and there had actually been a tenth before her that died of starvation earlier in the year. After that, she signed up for two tessera for each member of her family. Her name was Ana. She is dead.

I whirl my head around, taking in the crowd. It's huge, composed of only twelve to eighteen year olds and several dozen peacekeepers. And this isn't even everyone. People are still arriving, and since our district's population is so large, the mayor performs a separate reaping to choose the kids that'll attend this reaping. Olive and I got our letters saying we were picked to attend a month ago.

After what seems like a few seconds to all of us kids, but is actually a few hours, the mayor steps up to a podium on the stage and begins to read. The story's always the same; the history of Panem, a country that rose up out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America. The mayor lists the disasters that we faced, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching sea that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained. The result of this all was Panem, a shing Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens. Then came the Dark Days. The district's uprising against the Capitol. Twelve district's were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. The Treaty of Treason gave us the new laws and, as a reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gave us the Hunger Games.

The mayor finishes his speech, and begins to read the names of the district's past victors. In thirty-six years worth of Hunger Games, District 11 has had only one. Our lack of food and any sort of training, which is technically illegal but happens every year in several districts, gives us a huge disadvantage in the Games.

Our one and only victor, a youngish guy named Oakley Maxwell, takes the stage, then the mayor introduces Alyana Prescott, District 11's escort, come strait from the Capitol with her neon clothes and hair.

"Oh, welcome, welcome!" Alyana chirps ecstatically. "Happy Hunger Games all of you! And may the odd be ever in your favor!"

I turn my head to try and spot Olive behind me, but the crowd is too thick.

"Ladies first, of course!" Alyana says, trotting over to the glass ball with the girl's names. She fishes around in the bowl of paper slips printed with names and dramatically pulls one from deep within. I'm hoping with all my heart that it's not Olive, but I'm not too worried. Two out o' thousands. I keep telling myself. Two out o' thousands.

"This year's female tribute is..." Alyana pauses for dramatic effect. I find that my hands are balled into tight fists and my teeth are clenched. The crowd is so silent you could hear a butterfly's wings. Alyana clears her throat and reads the name in a clear voice. "Olive Oleander!"

I gasp and nearly fall over. I actually do fall over, and a boy who lives not far from us has to hold me up. I struggle to regain my footing and stay standing as Alyana repeats the name. Olive must not be too stricken with fear to move.

Suddenly I'm aware of shouts and a scuffling noise behind me. I push past people and into the thin strip of empty space cutting through the crowd and leading to the stage. Two peacekeepers are dragging a screaming Olive by her arms.

"Aspen!" She screams when she spots me on the path ahead of her.

"Olive!" I start to run towards her, but am cut off by two more peacekeepers who hold me back as Olive is dragged past me. I struggle to escape but their grip is too strong. If I don't stop kicking at them soon, they will probably knock me out. No time for a crazy seventeen year old boy when there's a reaping to be had.

Alyana welcomes Olive to the stage with a smile. Olive scowls back at her, giving up her struggle and falling limp in the peacekeeper's strong arms.

"Ok.. Now let's pick the young gentleman who'll represent this fine district in the Games!" Alyana shouts in mock praise. We all know she'd rather be the escort to a more important district like 1 or 2. She swirls around the names in the boy's bowl and pulls a slip. She doesn't even have time to read the name before I jolt into action, delivering a powerful blow to the unsuspecting peacekeeper on my left. Once he's down, I swing my fist at the other and sprint for the stage as he staggers backward.

"I volunteer!" I scream, adrenaline pushing me forward.

Everyone seems a little taken aback. I'm not sure if District 11 has ever had a volunteer.

"Oh! Well... I..." Alyana stutters. "Congratulations!"

I pass Olive on the stage as I go to take my place. She is too sad and weak to protest in any way but the mournful look she gives me. And it is almost enough to make me change my mind. We both know only one of us can win. I can't change my mind though, and I wouldn't want to anyway. I will fight until the end so Olive gets home safely. Back to mother and father and Violet and Cedar, who will be listening intently to the reaping being broadcast over loudspeakers in the fields where they work. Mother and father and Violet and Cedar who will be swamped with grief as they hear Olive's name called. Mother and father and Violet and Cedar who will fall apart entirely when they hear me utter my name when Alyana asks for it.

"Brother and sister! Well, this is exiting!" The eccentric escort trills.

Then the mayor begins to read the extremely dull Treaty or Treason. He looks sad when he finishes and tells Olive and I to shake hands. Olive avoids my eyes and instead looks down at the floor. We turn back to the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays, and the moment it ends we are rushed into the Justice Building, the doors slamming violently behind us.