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I am fire—if you want something salty and sweet, with no opinion, I am not the woman for you. I spit flames, often.
Morning broke in a humid haze, the sheets sticking to her tan skin as she rolled over, the sunlight hitting her face. Reaping day, was her first thought as she opened her eyes, looking away from the stream of warmth that fluttered in through the curtains.
Beside her, her twin sister slept with soft snores. It was their last Reaping and then they wouldn't have to partake in the dreadful anticipation of the Hunger Games anymore; they would only have to watch as children were torn from their families and murdered for all of the world to see. But the Sommers family wasn't so lucky. Cassia had taken the blunt of the tesserae, her name being put in ten times, including the seven, which meant there were seventeen tiny white slips of paper with her name on it in the pool. She refused to allow her sister to enter for any more than was needed. Cassia was older so it was only fair that she was the one who risked being reaped.
Cassia leaned over and shook Evelin. "Wake up, we have to get ready," she whispered.
Evelin groaned and rolled over to face Cassia, worry as clear as the new day on her face. "Our last Reaping," she whispered back. "Do you think one of us will be picked?"
Cassia couldn't answer her without lying, so all she said was, "I don't know. We better get up," before getting dressed.
Their mother died while giving birth to them a long while ago, so it was only honorable to wear one of her dresses. It was soft from being worn over the years, and the faded red went well with the olive tones of her skin. In the cracked mirror they shared, Cassia pulled her long dark hair into a low fishtail braid that swept down her back. Turning to look at Evelin, she hid the frown that threatened to break from her emotionless mask.
Her sister wore their mother's pale green dress and her slightly lighter brown hair was tucked behind her ears in short waves.
Both girls stared at each other, knowing exactly how the other felt. Evelin reached out and grabbed onto Cassia's hand that hung at her side. She smiled at her. "We're going to be okay," she said, her blue eyes matching Cassia's in a fruitless attempt at being the light in a dark situation.
Cassia only nodded. She felt as though if she dared to speak only sobs would come out. She didn't believe her sister one bit. Even after the Reaping, they would still live in poverty, still under the greedy hand of the Capitol. But she didn't say any of that; she always kept her thoughts to herself. And that was when their father sighed in the doorway. His glasses were crooked and there was white dotted in his short beard, but his eyes held a happy sadness at the sight of them.
"You both look exactly like your mother," he smiled.
Cassia needed to remain strong. There was no reason to cry, all she had to do was wait until the sun went down and the Capitol workers packed up the Reaping decorations and left. All she had to do was close her eyes and she would be standing in the Square, her eyes looking out among a sea of children ranging from twelve to eighteen. Her finger would sting from being pricked with the heat rolling off of the ground so intensely her dress would cling to her skin. And Evelin stood next to her; all of them silent as the annual video played to remind people of the past.
