CHAPTER 1.1

'If today was your last day.

And tomorrow was too late.

Could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Would you live each moment like your last?'


"Indie!" Cashmere screeched, stood at the bottom of the white marble staircase. "Marvel's here!"

Pulling the French braid tight, the blonde girl secured the end with a bobble before rushing out of her bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time and leaping into the muscular arms of her long-time best friend.

"I haven't seen you in ages." Indiana Summers pouted.

"You saw me yesterday."

"Exactly. Ages ago," she said, rolling her eyes at his ignorance.

Marvel Kentwell rolled his eyes at his blonde friend's antics before hugging her back, squeezing tight. The two teenagers had been best friends since they were five - they had been paired together on their first day at the Academy due to their similar builds, and they had bonded instantaneously. Despite how much they teased and taunted one other, they would always had the other's back, no matter the consequences.

"Will you two be staying for breakfast?" Cashmere asked the two seventeen year olds, her motherly side making an appearance.

Marvel looked down at Indiana, who was tying the laces on her trainers before answering for the both of them.

"I think we'll pass. We-"

"-have to get to the Academy. It's our last day and we-."

"-don't want to be late."

"It's so creepy when you two do that." Cashmere muttered under her breath, shoving toast into their hands and giving them a goodbye kiss on the cheek. "Have fun."

Kissing her uncle on the cheek, Indie said goodbye through a mouthful of toast, looping her arm through Marvel's and dragged him out of the elaborate Victor's house.


The Academy was a grey, military styled building that trained the children of District One to survive the Hunger Games. From the ripe young age of five, they were taught how to fight, how to wield a weapon, and look for resources and ways of survival using the forces of nature.

Pinning her mentor to the mat, Indiana let out a victorious whoop as she won her final sparring match. She had been taught to fight since she was able to stand on her own two feet. Her mother and father had started their family when young, marrying at sixteen. Before her mother had been given the chance to inform her father that she was pregnant, he had been Reaped and perished in his Games. The next year, one year old Indiana lost her mother to the brutal sport of murder. Becoming her guardians, Cashmere and Gloss decided to teach the little girl how to defend herself in case she was ever Reaped; their little bundle of joy was the only family they had left and they couldn't lose her as well.

Now at the age of eighteen, she was extremely skilled at archery, knives, and hand to hand combat. However, she was still deadly whilst handling other weapons.

"Well done, Indie. Maybe one day someone you'll find someone who can beat you." Jamie grumbled, dragging himself up off the mat. "Doubt it though," he muttered to himself. "Up next, Finn and Marvel!"

Winking at his best friend, Marvel stepped up to the sparring mat, confident in his ability to win. Over the years, the two boys had fought each other continuously, both inside and out of the Academy. Finn had lost every single time and to say he was bitter would be an understatement.


Once the last fights of the day had finished, and the final session was coming to a close, Jamie called all of his students to gather around him so he could say some final words.

"It's been an honour to teach you all these past thirteen years, and it's been a joy to watch you evolve from the five year olds who couldn't make a fist to eighteen year olds before me. Whilst I'm saddened to watch you leave the Academy, I personally know that you are all deadly enough to survive the world out there. Tomorrow is your last day before your final Reaping, use it wisely. Despite not having any lessons, the Academy will remain open for those who wish to use it. You all know the rules about the Reaping but I'm going to remind you nevertheless; if one of you is picked, nobody else shall volunteer. If a younger one gets chosen, I will be ashamed of you all if no one volunteers. Remember, our Victors come from you lot, not the younger ones. However, I am proud of the people you have become and wish you luck for the future. May the odds be ever in your favour."

Pulling their mentor in for a group hug, the 18 class bid him a heartfelt goodbye, some with tears in their eyes. This was the end.

Clearing out their lockers, Marvel and Indiana smiled as they glanced around at the room they had spent the majority of their years in.

"I'm really going to miss this place." Indie said sombrely.

"You'll be back here within a couple of days. You know they've reserved a mentor position for you once the week long holiday is over." Marvel nudged his best friend, reminding her that she was being silly.

"That's only if I don't get picked for the Games."

"You won't. Trust me, you're the least likely person to get chosen. Your name is only in there once." Marvel slung his arm around the smaller girl's shoulders and pulled her in for a side hug.

Judging by the frown on her beautiful face, Marvel knew she was too busy fretting to listen to his words of reassurance. In fact, she was too busy thinking about how Snow had probably had the names rigged so that hers was in there more than anybody else's was.

"Do you want to stay over mine tonight? We can stay up all night and gorge on food." Marvel smiled, trying to cheer her up with her favourite things.

"Sounds fun to me!" Indie cheered, plastering on a fake smile. "Let me just grab some stuff from mine and shower."

Skipping along the pathway, Indiana heard Marvel laugh at her childishness as he picked up his pace so that his strides matched her quick pace.

Looking at the beautiful landscape of District One, Indie prayed that she would still be here after the Reaping, that tomorrow wouldn't be her last day. She knew everyone was thinking the same thing but her fear was even more intensified. After all, her entire family had been through the Games (half had won and half had died) and so her entering them would certainly opt for some interesting entertainment.


'Every second counts 'cause there's no second try.

So live like you'll never live it twice.'