A/N – HI GUISE. This is the rewritten (cooler) version(for coolcool people), hopefully Katniss will be more in character. My original was too OOC!(pointed out by Mockingjayfan124) I want this to really feel like it happened in the book! It'll also help me become a better writer! Hehe ! :) MORE RESISTANCE AND DRAMA IN THIS VER! So. Just saying. Reviews make me super duper happy! Ones corecting me for my errors want to make me hide in a dark hole, but leave them anyways! lol. Help me become a BETTER writer! Ty Mockingjayfan124 for letting me start this ver!ilyy:D I think you'll enjoy it more! hopefully! I'll try to go slower! lol. I hope Marvel wins your heart, like he won mine! last week. LOLZ. actually. Both Marvel AND JACK QUIAD! :))) /faint
Btw! Most of this is the same stuff from ch2 on the original. i meant to start with this originally! im sorry if rereading this will bore you :(
** Remember! One review can change the whole course of the story! :) maybe. LOL. I read all of em! ily! **
Btw! Don't bash on Mockingjayfan124. I reread it and I just felt like, I didn't LOVE it. It was okay in my heart. I love this chapter though! :')
~ * Marvel's POV * ~
I open my eyes, feeling groggy, and rub my eyes with the back of my hands. I had trained the entire day before and my body was sore. I look around at my family's small house and find it covered in an eerie blue hue, representing dawn. With a huff, I burrow deep inside my blanket. Instead of finding pleasant dreams, I twist and turn, my bed creaking with every move I make. Something's off today. Is today an important day? My brows furrow, then out of the blue, reality hits me in the face, all the air is knocked out of my lungs. Today is Reaping Day. I throw my blankets off to the side, hitting the floor and I start taking shaky breaths. In, out, in, out. Why should you be scared? You've been training your whole life. I tell myself, clutching onto my shirt for dear life. I firmly close my eyes and I see myself, Marvel at 5 years old. I came home bawling one day after all my "friends" had called me poor for not having a gargantuan house like most people in District One. I threw a fit, screaming and crying as if that was all I knew how to do. My mother looked at me sympathetically, sat by our fireplace, and placed my gently on her lap, stroking my hair. She vaguely told me about the Games, leaving out the blood and gore. She said we never had had a victor in our family.
I pondered this day after day. It was just about the only thing on my mind for a while. A week later, I stood on the table, called my mom over, and looking her dead in the eyes, in the most serious voice I've ever used as a kid, I said, "Mom, I want to be the first victor in our family." I remember fear in her green eyes, but she supported me and respected my decision. I did small tasks for the victors. They, in return, gave me a few coins for each chore I did. As I got older, they allowed me do more difficult and exhausting jobs. Every victor in Victor Village trusted me with everything they had. More money was involved, of course. Everything leading up to this day was worth it. The work kept me in shape, and I paid for my training as a career with the money I made. I didn't even back down when I found out in the Games, you kill, or be killed.
I spring up from my bed and into the bathroom, examining myself through the mirror. I see a boy that's 5'11" with messy light brown hair, striking emerald green eyes, and tan skin. All the girls from 1 go crazy over my looks, but only watch me from afar, since I'm the outcast; the loner. He looks pretty shaken up and nervous. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and comb my hair in a somewhat neat arrangement. By the time I finish and dress in a bright green button-up shirt that brings out my eyes even more, and dark grey pants, I still have hours to spare and my parents aren't up yet. I blow my bangs out of my eyes. I sink down onto a soft couch, bring my knees to my chest, and flick the TV on. All I really see are a bunch of Capitol commercials advertising worthless junk, but I watch them anyways, asking myself if people actually buy this crap, and yawning every minute. My mom decides to waltz in after I already watched what felt like 900 commercials, stretching, still in her pajamas. I wonder what I must look like to her. Mouth slightly open, hugging my knees, my face made a different shade by the TV. I stifle a laugh. "Hi Mom. Nice timing. What're you doing up so early?" I say without looking at her.
"I couldn't fall asleep once I w-woke up," She stutters. "Today is the Reaping. A-a-are you going to volunteer?" I can tell she's just about on the verge of tears. I flick the TV off, walk over to her, and embrace her, stroking her hair like she did to me when I was 5. I hear continuous muffled cries from my father's room.
"Yeah, mom. I swear I'm coming back though. Besides, I'm a Career." I say that part with my chest puffed out in what I think is a tough voice. We both end up laughing.
"Well then, let's have breakfast, my strong Career son." Mom smiles warily. She makes blueberry pancakes, my favorite, with butter and syrup on top. Just the thought of it always made my mouth water. She places the steaming hot pancakes in front of me, and goes to fetch her own plate. I swear, I inhale everything down to the plate even before she returns. I give her a sheepish grin when she returns, in reply to my grin, she raises an eyebrow, looks down at my plate, and tsks while shaking her head slightly.
We discuss my strategy in the Games for the rest of the morning, my mother holding back tears to be strong for me. 30 minutes before the Reapings, tears brim her eyes. She stands up mid-sentence and walks into my parent's room. I hear her through the thick walls, she's crying and screaming along with my dad. They both stumble out and land on their knees before me, pleading and crying for me to stay with them. "Please Marvel! Please, please, please, we can't lose you!" These cries bounce around in my head and my heart breaks into a million pieces. I make an honest decision then and there, looking at my broken mother and father, their tears coming down in fast, rapid rivers. I lower myself to my knees and stroke my mom's cheek. "I'll stay, mom. I really will, for you and dad. I love you guys." I wipe away their tears and kiss them on the cheek, wishing I can erase the pain the Games have brought into their lives. Then I leave, wiping my own tears away on my arm. The sunlight warms my skin, comforting me. All I've been training for, is shattered in front of my eyes.
I check in at the square at go over to the 17 section, where there is not one person who greets me. I don't have any friends. My whole life since I was 5 was all about becoming an outstanding Career. I didn't have time for anything else. I did my work quietly at school and usually made small talk. I awkwardly stand for the Reapings to start, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, while everyone else avoids me and babbles on and on about nonsense. The high-pitched shrill pierces through my ears and I flinch. Every time she talks louder than normal a normal person should, I jump out my seat. It's a force of habit. "Welcome District One! My faaaavorite District! Are you ready for the Reaping?" Our District escort, Violetta Evans. She has a overly bright purple wig that could burn your eyes off if you stared at it long enough. Her make-up is a lighter version of blinding wig on her head. Our mayor repeats the same tedious, unchanged speech we listen to every year. I always tune it out. Period.
"This is so exciting! Ladies first!" Violetta squeals loudly, my eardrums almost burst. "Glimmer Sanders!" A beautiful girl with long, wavy glowing blonde hair, and glowing green eyes saunters up to the stage with an innocent smile plastered onto her face and blows a kiss to the crowd. This makes me raise my eyebrow. She looks dangerous, I can tell from that smile, her eyes, the way they glint with malice. The crowd of girls that surrounded her before all whimper and wail. I have a sudden urge to snort at this. "Now, time to pick our male tribute!" Violetta's heels click against the wood stage as she bounces over to the boy's bowl. "Marvel Spere!" This time, I do snort. What a poor sucke-. Wait, that's me. No, no, no, no. What about mom and dad? I said I would stay for them! A girl from behind me pushes me in the direction of the stage. I know this because her sharp nails dig into my skin. There are no comforting words from anyone in the crowd, nor anyone in my age group. They just step back, making a straight path to the stage. I hear a female's screaming break the heavy silence, it came from all the way in the back. Mom. I lift my head up as high as I can and my feet move on their own. My shoes crunch against the dirt. My lips quiver. Everyone stares at me with pity. Everything seems like a dream. I shake Glimmer's hand, I think I felt her squeeze my hand a little too tightly, threateningly. Maybe I'll wake up in my own toasty bed later. I hope this is a bad dream. Please, please, please be a bad dream.
My parents come in bawling. They cry into my shirt, scream, and hug me so tightly, it's hard to breathe comfortably. I let their tears soak my shirt. This could be the last time I see them. I don't cry, though. I don't want to be seen as a weakling, eyes puffy and red. This has happened too many times to count in at least a handful of times in each district. "P-Please come back. Promise you'll come back!" My mom pleads more desperately than this morning, cupping my face in her shaking hands.
"I will, mom. I'll come back for dad and you. I love you both. Stay strong." I choke back tears as I watch two peacekeepers drag them from my sight. They scream and resist, calling my name, telling me to come back.
"MARVEL! NO! LET ME GO! MARVEL SPERE! MARVEL! MY POOR MARVEL!" I hear my mom shrieking once again alongside my dad.. The sounds become more muffled as they drag her farther and farther away. My heart breaks for the second time today. I feel so empty, so lonely. I curl up into a ball and let a tear drop from my eyes, no more, no less. A little girl, no older than 7, floats in. She has hair as black as night, black eyes that sparkle with love and kindness. She wears fancy clothing from the Capitol. In her tiny hands, she holds a golden wristband with my name engraved with pure emeralds that match the color of my eyes. She easily slips it onto my wrist. I don't give it any particular attention right now.
"Marvel Spere. District 1 loves you. Always remember that," her voice sounds like the chime of clear bells. It soothes me. "I'll be a friend to you through the storm. I love you Marvel! I'm betting on you!" She winks and gives me a quick peck on the cheek, brushes my bangs out of my eyes, puts her arms around my neck in a warm hug. Then she is gone, but her presence has lulled into a tranquil state.
Violetta escorts us onto the train. Cameras flash in my face, the first flash leaving me temporarily blinded, the rest leaving little blue dots in my vision. I hate cameras. Despite the situation, I wave, give them my winning smile, and blow kisses. I'd rather be strangling everyone in the crowd. It makes me look excited for the Games. That thought makes me sick, but hey, to get back home, I need sponsors. Glimmer seems to catch on. When we enter the train, I greet our mentors, Cashmere and Gloss, rub my eyes vigorously, and head directly to my room. I don't talk to anyone, laying on my bed, finding interest in the ceiling and even dismiss dinner. Violetta forces me out of my own room to watch the recaps of the Reapings. Oh, how lovely would it be to chuck her out the window of the train. Her wig would go flying. I sink into the couch and stare blankly into the screen. No one particularly catches my attention. I'm about to call it a night when I see an innocent blonde 12 year old from District 12 is called.
"Primerose Everdeen!" She slowly drags herself to the stage, looking around, blinking rapidly, unable to believe the situation. The second she breaks into choking sobs, a beautiful girl with black hair and grey eyes lunges in front of the blonde girl and screams, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" with determination and desperation. I examine every detail of this girl, midnight black hair in a braid, her sparkling grey eyes, and a strong determination to protect her sister. She marches up to the stage and takes her place, holding her head high as the Peacekeepers drag the blonde girl away. "I bet my buttons that was your sister!" Effie chimes. There is no response from the grey-eyed girl.
"My name is Katniss Everdeen." Katniss just shrugs.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a hand to our new tribute, Miss Katniss Everdeen!" Effie shrills. Silence. Then, one by one, everyone in the crowd brings their 3 middle fingers to their lips and holds it out to Katniss. She looks on the verge of breaking. "Uhm, time for the boys!" Effie just cuts in. The boy from 12 is a different matter. A frail blonde boy with blue eyes, around 13 years old, bawling his eyes out. A sniveling coward. (Not Peeta Mellark!) I sneer at this, and dismiss myself. I don't sleep that night, though. All I see when I close my eyes are Katniss's shimmering grey eyes. I wonder where she is right now. I flick myself on the forehead. Girls from 12 are not worth it. Don't let her trap you.
We arrive at the Capitol at dawn. I hope none of those freakish residents are here, though. I've seen enough of those creepy faces for a lifetime. Well, I only saw them through the TV. I dress in a dark blue sweater and black pants. I scarf down a delicious breakfast by myself in the dining hall and look around the train for the first time. Everything appears to be made of precious jewels, the chandelier, the chairs, and they even found a place to bejewel the table legs. Don't get me started on how basically everything is shiny in this damn train. The Capitol probably wants to blind us. After my short "tour" around the train, Glimmer and Violetta walk out of their rooms. "Well, that took you guys long enough." I frown. Glimmer just sticks her tongue out at me. How childish.
When we step out of the train, the station is just about dead. Yes! Just my luck! A few people are here, taking pictures, so I smile and wave like how I did in District 1. "Walk faster." I hiss under my breath, with a grin glued to my face. We enter a skyscraping glass building that I'd guess was about 90 stories tall. Who knows? I take interest in the marble floors when we enter. They're so shiny, I can just about see my own reflection in them. Hi Marble Marvel.
"This is where you will be staying until you enter the arena." Violetta tells us like we're monkeys that can't understand anything.
"Nooooo," I say sarcastically. "We'll be staying in a box." Glimmer frowns. Violetta's mouth turns into a thin line. Our mentors just frowns deeply. Now they all think I'm a monkey.
"Aw, really, Marvie?" Glimmer coos, batting her eyelashes quickly, looking up at me with a sly smile. Now Glimmer has turned into a monkey as well. I glare at her.
"Don't call me that ever again." I look at her straight in the eyes, managing to keep a straight face as well. She's just too flirtatious all the time. Sometimes it's just hysterical.
When I finally look up, I see Katniss, the boy from 12, and Haymitch, her mentor, and Effie, their escort standing there giving us weird looks. My heart races in my chest at the sight of Katniss, I hope she doesn't hear my heart going a thousand miles an hour. I huff and look away, this time, mentally flicking myself for getting all excited for that 12 girl. Her name is Katniss. "Shut up, stupid," I say out loud, them blush deeply, embarrassed. "Um, Glimmer. You stupid." My district partner gives me a confused look and that is followed by a scowl. The first one I've seen her give, actually.
"Let's go to our rooms, shall we?" Violetta suggests, breaking the awkward silence.
District 12 hops into the elevator with us. The buttons '1' and '12' are lit up. Glimmer holds her head high and mighty, obviously stating she's better than the rats of 12. The boy just stares at her beauty, practically drooling. Violetta inches away from Effie and Haymitch, disgusted by anyone or thing associated with 12. I steal glances at Katniss, everything about her mystifies me. Her appearance, her strong personality, and those wonderful grey eyes of hers. Our eyes meet and she turns away from me, frowning. "Looks like you don't like me, Katniss." I pout, jokingly.
"Don't talk to me." She says simply, looking forward. This time, I frown. Isn't this supposed to be the other way around? This sucks. Everyone in my District turns and frowns at me viciously, their glares obviously stating, why did you even talk to her?
"What? Now I don't have a right to talk to whoever I want?" I smirk. We seem to arrive at our destination, floor 1, at a turtle's pace. "Oh come on. It's only floor 1. I wonder how long it takes to get to floor 90." I grumble. Not a second later a ding rings through the spacious elevator, mocking me, making me look even more like a fool. That signalizes that we've reached our compartments. I give a small wave to Katniss, making sure no one else is looking. She looks surprised, then scowls, turning her back to me.
"Don't scowl. It'll ruin your pretty face." I sigh at her response, which is a heavy silence. My heart just drops in disappointment. The rest of the day was uneventful, talking about strategies, tributes, weaknesses, strengths, just normal crap. My heart wasn't into it, though. Katniss turning her back replays over and over again in my head. All the girls from 1 go crazy over me. Why not her?
Because she's different. Because she's special. My heart whispers almost silently.
Later that night, with everyone snoozing behind heavy wood doors, inside luxurious rooms that make the train look like a dump, I slip out of my room and onto the elevator. I pushed the button with '12' on it. The elevator shoots up, up, up and the now familiar ding! sounds. I glide silently down the hall, not exactly knowing where I was, or where I was going. I felt a strong pull to something on this floor, though. I freeze when I see Katniss standing in her pajamas, her black hair sweeping down most of her back. It's a beautiful sight, and it's even more beautiful when she turns around to face me with an alarmed look on her face. She reaches behind her back for…something. Realizing nothing is there, her scowl makes a reappearance. It's obvious she recognizes me, but she pays no attention to me as she strides down the hallway and slips into a rusty metal door at the end of the hallway. My feet follow her beauty and soon, I slide through the ajar door. It's so much colder in here, and I start shivering uncontrollably. A lavish wide, red stairway descends up, up, up into who knows where. Get out of there, Marvel. She's not worth it. There will be plenty of better girls than that worthless thing once you win these Games. My mind hisses. But Katniss is up there. Follow her. My heart argues softly. I groan, two sides of my fighting to gain control. I look up longingly at the staircase, my feet itching to climb them and find Katniss Everdeen. But vicious words repeat over and over in my mind. She's not worth it. She's not worth it. A district 12 rat. Get away. My feet thump against the floor, as I scramble towards the elevator. It's better like this. She'll just be dead in a week. I click the button that says '1' and the elevator rushes downward.
YOU LIKEE? :D The other chapter wasn't meant to be Cato POV. Jacked up :'(
I'll add Cato's POV during the ride around the City Circle (:
MARVEL! MARRY ME NOW ! LOL.