Ember yawned and stretched out her long limbs, fumbling around while she blindly crawled out of bed. She rubbed her eyes and rolled her shoulders, listening for the annual 'pop' that always came. She stumbled over to her worn out dresser, taking a nice long look in the coal dust covered mirror. She groaned softly to herself, grabbing up her hairbrush and begining to pull it thought her hair. It's reaping day..
of all days, this had to be it. Nothing special was supposed to happen that day, it was just Ember's excuse at the moment. She winced as the hairbrush caught a tangle and yanked at it, pulling a few blonde hairs out. Ember growled. She closed her eyes, picking up a grey ribbon on her dresser and tying it into her hair, creating a not-so-neat bun. She turned to look at it and decided it was fine; besides. It's just the reapings.
Ember's name would be in eighteen times, considering the tesserae. She'd almost always took it. Hardly ever needed to, but every little bit helped. She practically flung on a grey dress, making sure to match the ribbon in her hair. Slipping on black shoes, she ran down the stairs, pressing her hand against the wall as she did. She shivered at the cool wood, while enjoying the feeling of the grain against her skin. She was suprised to find her father standing there, in front of the stove. The smell of sugary oats and butter filled the small room, as did the scent of brewing coffee. He never makes coffee.. Ember smiled. She layed a hand on her father's back, swinging herself around to kiss his rough cheek. He had bathed, and shaved. "Morning, papa," Ember said as she sat down at the kitchen table. It was suprisingly sturdy, made by her grandfather many reapings ago. "Morning. You look beautiful, is that your mother's dress?" He asked, only turning his head a little bit from his cooking. Ember nodded in response, only to remind herself that he isn't looking. "Yes, it's the nicest one I have. Either this or the green one." Her father crunched up his nose, making a 'ewgh' sound. Ember laughed, plucking a hair from her face and placing it back over her head. "Have you taken tesserae this year?" Her father asked. "Mhhm, as I do every year. It'll be in eighteen times," Ember replied, speaking in a jolly tone as if is was an average, ordinary day.
Her father cringed. "That's an awful lot, hun. I think this year should be the last that you take it." Ember sat up straight, staring at the back if his head, because she knew he'd feel it. "Why do you think that, papa?" she asked innocently, while staring icy daggers at him. "Well, next year it'll just keep adding up and adding up. It makes me uncomfortable..I don't wanna lose you, hun." Her father sighed, bringing over two bowls of oatmeal and coffee mugs, still steaming warm. Ember smiled, taking a bite of the gooey goodness. "I'll be fine papa, I promise."
The Reaping
Ember marched with the other kids along the road, on their way to the reaping. She saw a few familiar faces, just some kids she'd seen in school. They hardly noticed her. With her drab clothes and firm walk, she fit right in. She didn't mind. Sticking out was usually bad around here, with the peacekeepers. If you were different, that gave people a reason to think you were too different. When I come home, I'll make papa some of his favorite acorn soup...I'll have to buy the basil, though. It shouldn't be too expensive, Moira usually has it all for a good price. Ember thought, walking along at a comfortable pace. She glanced at the other kids, scanning their faces for any emotion. Some where cocky, most others were afraid. Especially the younger ones. She saw many children, just coming in at the age of fourteen or thirteen. Even younger, maybe. But their names would only be in once, one name amongs hundreds of others. She smiled at their fear, knowing she felt the same on her first reaping. That was the day a girl was chosen, maybe seventeen. She started kicking and screaming, yelling at the peacekeepers to let her go. She was one of the first to die, poor thing. Among all her stray thoughts, Ember didn't notice the registration table. She stumbled up to the table, a peacekeeper grabbing her hand harshly and poking something into it, drawing blood. Ember didn't really mind, though it hurt. Her fingers were pressed down onto some paper, her blood leaving a print on the paper. The peacekepper gruffly told her to move on, and so she did.
Ember felt a jerk as she ran into someone, a young boy. She swiftly apologized and realised that it was nearly time for the actual reaping, the time when some unlucky person's name would be called. Ember found her way to her area, females around the age of sixteen or seventeen. She stood firm, glancing around without turning her head. It was dark and cold looking, every grey or black, sometimes a dirty shade of white. Everything else seemed to be metal of some sort, even more cold. Ember crinkled her nose. It smelled. She never really liked the smell of coal, if there ever was one. Maybe it was the smell of hard labor, or dirty people, maybe even smoke. Either way, she didn't like it. Her head turned as she heard someone walking up the stairs to the stage. The escort, all dressed in fancy colorfull clothes. Poor thing sticks out like a sore thumb...maybe she things the same way about us. Ember listened faintly, giving most of her attention to her thoughts. She heard the lady's squeaky voice, babbling on about something. "Ember Sparks!" she heard it. Her name, being called. She didn't realise it was called, however. She looked up, glancing at the escort. Her name was called once more, and it came it Ember's attention that maybe she should begin walking. Or running. Either worked. She walked out of the aisle, her eyes slowing growing wider and wider. Peacekeepers took up positions on either side of her. She swallowed harshly, clutching for the necklace that hung on her neck. She held on tight, as if it was her lifeline. It was her lifeline.
"Papa.." Ember squeaked, unable to talk. Her father swiftly walked up to her and grabbed her in his strong arms, hushing her like he used to when she was a child. She felt like a child, she felt the needs of a child. Not much was said, only her father whispering encouraging words in her ear. "You can do this, hun...you can win, I know you can. You're strong enough. Just remember; you have to stay strong, you can't ever give up. You can win this." Ember nodded, her hair messier by now and her tears making her cheeks itch. "But papa, I have to kill people.." she gasped for air, finding it almost as hard to breathe as it is to speak. "I know, hun. I know, but you can do it. Don't think about it, just stay strong and come home..okay?" she nodded rapidly, sniffling and wiping her nose. "Come home to me, Ember." She felt her father ripped away from her. She reached her hands out to him, but the door was already shut. She fell down onto the couch in the room, allowing her father's words to echo in her mind.
"Come home to me."
