The Running Games

Book 1 Chapter 1.

Screams echoed in his house, but that's not what woke Thomas. It wasn't the nightmares that kept him waking during the night, not it was the plain fact that he couldn't sleep. He'd been awake for hours in the cold of the morning just staring at the ceiling, waiting for the hunger in his gut to subside even with no food to offer it.

He sprung up from his cot and padded across the room. He sat on the bed and took his mother's hand as she sat up straight. Her blond hair was a frazzled mess, and her dark eyes searched the room frantically, not knowing where she was at first. She relaxed at Thomas's touch and he wondered what the nightmare was today, reaping day. He could only imagine what she had seen. The reaping day was one of the worst days in Panem for almost every district, sparing those in the Capital and maybe even the first two districts.

"I'm sorry." she said, gasping for breath. Her chest heaved with every breath and she rested her shaking hand over his own.

"Are you okay?" he asked her gently, her head shook trying to rid of those images in her mind.

"I'm fine." she assured him, pushing the frizzled hair that had sprung free from her braid out of her face.

"I'm going to get us breakfast." Thomas assured, his voice hard, trying to shake away his own unwavering nerves. He took a look over his shoulder to his sister, who had somehow managed to sleep through the whole ordeal. Her thin body was evident of the hunger in 12, the lack of food had almost killed his family on multiple accounts.

He stood and left without another word, grabbing the leather-bound jacket off of the hook and shoving his feet into his old hunting boots. With one last look over his shoulder at the frazzled woman on the cot, he left.

The wind was brisk when he left the small house, it bit at his nose and dried out his eyes, forcing him to pull the hood over his head. It was still dark out, but he still spotted the coal miners as they silently passed through the town. Already dirt clad with fingers stained black. Thomas briskly walked in the other direction, keeping his head low and out of view. He walked until he met the chicken wire fence that marked the end of District 12 and hovered his ear as close to the fence as he could without touching it.

The fence was supposed to be electric, but the power shortages in 12 often left the fence unarmed. The Peacekeepers had lined the fence with chicken wire, hoping to ward off those who were brave enough from going to the other side. When it was armed, it made a soft hum, unmistakably foreign to the sounds of nature just on the other side. When Thomas determined that the fence was in fact off, he slipped between the wire of the fence and hurried to the cover of the thick trees.

As soon as he was under the cover of the trees, he headed toward a hollowed tree where he kept a bow and a quiver containing a few hand made arrows and slung it over his shoulder. As he tread through the forest, he kept his footsteps light to keep from scaring any prey.

In the distance, he spotted it. A lone doe not 30 yards from him. He took note of his surroundings, he was upwind of the doe so it would have no idea he was there. Quietly, he drew back an arrow into his bow, the coolness of his fingers touched his cheek as he reared back for the killing shot.

"What're you gunna do with that when you kill it?" His head snapped in the other direction at the sound of the female voice, and when he turned back to the deer it had long since scampered off into the woods.

"Fuck you, Teresa." He snapped, lowering the bow and replacing the arrow into the quiver. She approached him noisily, kicking up every branch and rock in her path as she went along. Her laughter echoed in the forest as she approached, her own game bag was slung over her shoulder with a rabbit already inside.