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Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the character in the Hunger Games trilogy.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
As much as I try my best to ignore my pink, annoying alarm clock I sit up and turn it off. Taking in the blood-red painted walls of my room, I realize that I won't see it for another month. Rubbing my eyes, I slowly lower myself down on the bed to go back to sleep until I hear my sister's voice. A sound that I find very annoying at this moment.
"Amethine! Get your butt out of bed. We have to get to the training center in an hour!" yelled my grumpy 16-year-old sister Amethyst.
Amethyst and I have been training for the Hunger Games ever since we were six. She excels at knife throwing and I'm excellent with spears.
Everyday, we walk to the training center together which is only a quarter-mile away from our home. Amethyst always wants to arrive early so she could start warming up with her knives. Everyday I'm threatened by her. She doesn't want to be late (which we never are ).Although I'm bigger, older and stronger than her, I usually don't do anything. She won't stand a chance against me.
Opposed to Amethyst, I don't worry about what time I get there. I don't like being late to training either, but I'm not the very-early-type of person as well. My preferred time for leaving home is at 8:50 since training starts at 9:20, but being the early bird she is, Amethyst wants to leave before 8:30.
Climbing out of bed, I don't forget to make my bed. If I do, I'll hear my mother complain again about how I'm so lazy when it comes to organizing things, but I'm energetic when it comes to wielding weapons. My mom motivates Amethyst and I to do well in training, but I know she doesn't agree with the whole make-your-child-a-killer thing.
When I step into my bathroom, I take my grey sweatpants along with my forest green t-shirt off and let it fall onto on my red and black linoleum- tiled bathroom floor. I let my hair down and climb into the shower. Forty minutes later I get out and wrap my toned, fit body in a towel.
Opening my closet to grab my training uniform, I was going to put it on until I hear Amethyst scream, "Amethine, I swear if you're not ready in 20 minutes I'm leaving without you!"
"Go ahead! I'll walk to the training center by myself!" I yell back. Hearing her stomp angrily in response, I grin with satisfaction. Amethyst doesn't like walking to the training center alone. Near the training center, there's an abandon house where a bunch of old, creepy-looking guys hang around all the time. I don't know why, but here in one, we call them 'moches'.
What I'm wearing to training is the gray and red jump suit that is provided to everyone who trains;it is mandatory to wear it. When I put everything on, I brush my long, blonde hair into a high ponytail, then slip on my black combat boots. I'm about to walk out of my room when I remember something. Walking over to the drawer next to my bed, I pull it open and take out the pair of black fingerless gloves I always wear for training. The material feels good wrapped around my hand and it even better when you hold a weapon in your hand.
I walk downstairs and see a grouchy Amethyst sitting on the couch sneering at me;I flash a big smile right back. Walking into the kitchen, I also see my six year old twin brothers helping themselves to some oatmeal my mom has prepared.
To me, Garnet and Geode are completely different. Although twins look the same, their character differs greatly. Geode along with Amethyst inherited my father's walnut brown hair, while Garnet and I got inherited mother's blonde hair. The only feature that all of us have in common is our father's light blue-green eyes.
Besides their hair color everything was pretty much the same with my little twin brothers. Except their personalities. Geode is more of a fiery person, being very talkative and hyper. When he gets mad all hell breaks loose, but when he's calm it's like mockingjay birds singing a peaceful melody. Garnet is very laid back and usually quiet; he only speaks when spoken to, but talks more at home. When he's mad he only holds a grudge for about two weeks and when he's happy, he smiles alot.
Then there's my little sister Amethyst. Although she's sixteen years old, I still call her little, much to her disliking. She hates being told she's wrong. One time I told her she did a math equation wrong and she got all ballistic. Amethyst and her games have three main interests: Training, the Hunger Games, and boys. She and I both agreed that I will be volunteering this year due to it being my last and from what my dad says, I've become 'deadly' with spears.
"There you are dear, I got scared because I thought Amethyst was going to lose her voice screaming for you to get ready." I turn around and see my mother putting something back in the fridge.
My mom's three inches shorter than me. I'm 5'7 and she's 5'4. She has shoulder-length blonde hair and light blue eyes. My mother's not really old; she's only 35 years old and doesn't have wrinkles. She'd thank me and giggle shyly everytime I tell her this.
"I wouldn't mind if Amethyst lost her voice, I mean I could probably have some peace for at least one day." I say, smirking at my sister. She glares at me for a moment, then sticks her tongue out at me like a little kid.
"Real mature." I say.
My mom gives me that 'Don't Start' look, so I stop teasing.
Geode and Garnet leave the kitchen to go and take a shower. I go to the fridge and pull out an orange to eat for breakfast.
"That's all you're going to eat? Honey, you should eat some of the apple, cinnamon oatmeal I made." my mother says to me like I'm a child.
"It's okay, I don't really feel like eating a lot." I say even though I want to tell her to stop treating me like a baby.
"Just eat it so we can get to training center!" Amethyst exclaims out of nowhere.
"Shut up. The more you rush me, the slower I move" I say and pretend to peel my orange in slow motion. This makes Amethyst groan and stomp off to her room.
When she leaves, I peel the orange faster and start stuffing them into my mouth and throw the peels away in the trashcan. I subsequently pour myself a glass of water. After I gulp everything down, I put my cup in the sink and call Amethyst.
We say goodbye to our brothers and mother then get out of the house. We walk down the street lined up with big houses that belong to many wealthy people. In district one, there are two main sections: Belle and Vilain.
The Belle section is the wealthy part of district 1. In the Belle area, there are many jewelry shops and since our district produces the luxury items for the Capitol, we're one of the wealthiest districts. You'll find a lot of busy roads, but luckily for my sister and I we don't have to pass through any of them. Most people who live in the Belle section work in jewelry shops or departments stores.
In the jewelry shops, you'll find dazzling accessories encrusted with many lovely gemstones (which are all real of course) In the Belle section, there are a ton of stores that sell things from jewelry and dresses to toilet paper and eggs.
The department stores here are really all about fashion. There are some stores that have a whacky type of fashion, suiting a Capitol citizen's style. Other stores suit other type of styles, the opposite of many Capitol citizens' taste. Sometimes my mother would buy our reaping outfits from a department store when she doesn't have time to make them herself.
The Vilain section is the poor part of the district. In the Vilain section, there are barely any concrete pavements. There are more dirt roads than there are cement sidewalks. The houses are made out of wood and are really old. They were even built close together. Most people who live in the Vilain section work in mines that contain diamonds, gold, and many more other precious gemstones, even the ones that my siblings and I were named after.
"Is dad working today?" Amethyst asks as we walk through our neighborhood.
"Yeah I think so. I didn't see him this morning." I say while kicking a rock that's in my way.
Our dad isn't home sometimes. He owns three of the biggest and most successful jewelry shops in the entire district. When he is home, he would always ask how Amethyst and I are doing in training then play with the boys.
When we pass by what Amethyst and I call the "Moches Hangout", a guy shouts and tries to get our attention, but we just ignore him and keep walking. I'm not scared of any of those moches, and that's probably why Amethyst enjoys walking with me to the training center. She feels safe with me. Being great at handling knives, I don't understand why she's scared.
After passing the moches hangout, we walk near the bakery. Immediately the delightful smell of baked bread filled with warmth and cranberry cakes topped with cream and fruits fill my nose. Sometimes Amethyst and I would buy something to eat on our way to training center, but today Amethyst was in such a hurry that we forgot to ask our mother for money. After we stop drooling at the cakes that are on display, we continue walking.
"Excited on volunteering?" Amethyst asks.
"Yeah, it's been something I've been waiting for my whole life." I state, smiling as I think about it.
Which is true. In the career districts, the 18 year old boys and girls can't wait to volunteer and get into the games, in contrast to the kids from the poor districts who don't train and have as much food like we do. A few minutes later, we walk into the huge training center where we have been training for the games our whole lives.
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