Note; The Hunger Games was not my idea, it is the idea of the talented Suzanne Collins. This is just a story written for the enjoyment of fellow fans of the series. I own no rights to the series.
This story is based on my character from "The Hunger Games Challenge" on Polyvore. So, this is basically myself as a hunger games tribute. Comments, critique, and suggestions are welcome. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
- Love Kitten
The cool morning breeze swept through my ash-blonde hair. My footsteps made a soft crunching noise as I walked over the grey cobblestone street. The peacemaker stationed along the fence turned away as I slipped through the gap where the chain link had been cut from the post. The Capitol let us do as we pleased, as we were their lapdogs, they assumed we wouldn't cause much harm. Many of the rules the other districts had to follow were not enforced in District 2.
I slipped into the trees, listening to the gentle crunch of leaves under my light tread. The morning dew dripped from the canopy onto my nude blouse. I didn't mind the dew, but my mother would complain about my soiled clothes when I returned home. I continued through the trees with the gentle breeze against my face until I reached the meadow.
The bright green grass stood halfway up my calves, dispersed throughout the meadow were pretty white flowers. I was careful the avoid the flowers, knowing the orange liquid they contained would burn my skin, though that was far better than what happened if you were to drink the liquid. I shuddered at the thought, and made my way across the meadow to the spot where Palladium sat, perched upon a boulder.
He smirked at me, his gorgeous blonde hair unruly, and his gorgeous blue eyes glittering in the pale rose light.
"Took you long enough," he teased, standing up to greet me. He pulled me into his warm arms. I could feel his muscles through his shirt. His skin was pale like mine, likely something to do with the cool climate in which we lived.
District two was built on top of mountains, where they could mine minerals and gems. It snowed late autumn to early spring, with the ground finally clearing in the late spring. This was the time of year when the snow had finally melted away, and the mud had received a couple of weeks to dry. The air was still cool, the grass had emerged once again, and flowers were beginning to blossom. When I was younger, this was my favorite time of year. That changed once I became of reaping age.
As a child, I my understanding of the reaping was limited. I understood that it was a time of fear for many families, and a time of celebration for others. District was comprised of families who produced what is referred to by some as Career Tributes, children who were raised to win the Hunger Games and families who hoped their children would never have to experience the horror of the games. I came from a non-career family, and my mother hoped beyond hope that Onyx would not be reaped.
The spring after I turned 12 was the year I came to realize how horrible the reaping was. The fear of having my name pulled from one of the balls on reaping day was nearly crippling. The first year I stood in a line of potential tributes the girl standing in front of me was reaped. Her name was Amethyst Kite, and like me, she was only 12 years old. She died at the battle of the Cornucopia. She grabbed no supplies, but was stabbed in the back as she ran for the cover of the forest. To this day, the image of watching her fall still haunts me.
"Kit?" Palladium's warm voice drew me from my thoughts. I smiled up at him, and he gently pressed his warm lips to mine.
"What the matter?" He murmured against my lips. He drew back and pushed a lock of hair away from my face with his thumb.
"Nothing," I lied averting my eyes. He placed a delicate kiss on my forehead.
"You shouldn't worry so much about the reaping. We have no control over what happens." His voice was so soft, I could hardly hear him.
I gazed up at him, his blue eyes locked on mine.
"I know." I whispered back, forcing back my tears. He released me from his embrace and returned to the boulder I'd found him perched upon. He picked up a small, tan leather bag from behind the boulder. From the bag he removed two freshly baked rolls, a small jar of strawberry jam, and a spoon; he placed these items on a boulder in front of him. I sat next to him and opened the small, white leather purse I carried. I pulled out two glass jars which I'd filled with sweet lemonade, a smaller jar filled with butter, and a butter knife.
"Happy Reaping Day," Palladium whispered as he handed me a roll. I sliced the roll open and buttered it, then passed the knife to him.
"Happy Reaping Day," I replied as I spooned the sweet jam onto the bread. I squished the top half of the roll back onto the bottom half and took a bite. The flavors melted together in my mouth, the rich honey taste of the bread, the salt of the butter, and the sweetness of the jam. Palladium took my hand, and we sat there for a while in silence as we ate.
Once we'd eaten our rolls, licked the jelly from our fingers, and polished off the lemonade, we lost ourselves in conversation. Soon, the sun's position in the sky claimed that an hour had passed since I'd left home. The reaping was approaching, and I had to return home.
"I have to go." I announced as I stood. He sighed and pulled me into an embrace once more.
"I love you Keyna." Palladium whispered into my ear.
"I love you too." I replied, looking up at him. I gathered the empty jars and put them back into my purse. I draped the long chain strap over my shoulder, and headed home. I slipped through the gap in the fence once more and walked back along the cobblestone streets
I stopped in front of my home. It was a good sized house, 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a big kitchen, a living room, a family room, and a dining room. Horizontal boards painted a soft yellow made up the siding of the house, and along the bottom stones of varying sizes and colors detailed the house. The roof was made of dark brown shingles. The front door was crisp white with a dark bronze door handle.
I walked up the flagstone path, and climbed the three steps leading up to the front porch. I pressed the button of the cool door handle and pulled the door open. I stepped onto the maple floors of the house, my nude flats barely making a sound. I closed the door behind me, and became enveloped in the warmth of the house.
My parents sat in the two large arm chairs in the living room chatting idly. My mother turned her blue eyes on me. "Keyna! What a mess you are! You've ruined your outfit, silly girl." She exclaimed as she jumped up from her chair and crossed the room. My mother wore a silver pencil dress on her petite frame, and her ash blonde hair was pulled back in a bun. She had sewing pins in her hair, a sign that she'd been sitting at her sewing machine while I was out.
"I'm sorry." I replied, looking down at my clothes. My nude blouse had apparently snagged a branch while I was in the forest, and bright green moss clung to my white lace skirt.
"You shouldn't wear your good clothes while you're off marauding in the woods." My mother scolded. My father could no longer contain his laughter.
"Oh Leena, let her be." My father jumped to my defense. He was a very light hearted and easy-going man, unlike my mother who was strict and protective. She let out an exasperated sigh.
"Neil, you can't let her run wild forever. She has to grow up and become a lady at some point." My mother argued. My father laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She rolled her eyes at him.
I walked down the hall to my bedroom. The walls were painted lilac, my furniture was natural maple, and my bed was covered by a silver bedspread. I opened the doors of my closet, and chose a black tulle dress with pretty flower appliqués, a sheer nude silk trench coat, and a pair of gold flats with embellishments on the toes. I examined the outfit in front of the full length mirror and tied the bands of the trench into a loose bow. I walked back to the living room and hugged both of my parents. My father kissed my forehead, and my mother restrained her tears.
"Good luck, sweetheart." He mother choked out, her blue eyes looking glassy. My father took her hand and I could see her squeeze his hand, as if she were clinging to him for dear life.
"Keyna will be fine." My fathered assured her. Onyx entered the room, wearing a pair of black dress pants, a silver dress shirt, and a black tie. Onyx is 3 years my senior, and this is the last year he is eligible for the games.
"Happy Reaping Day," he laced his words with bitter sarcasm. The four of us exited the house and strode down the cobblestone streets in silence. We entered the village square where Onyx and I were lined up in with the other tributes. I stood in line with the other fifteens, and Onyx stood with the eighteens. Palladium stood on stage with Helena, our escort, Mayor Finch, and this year's female mentor, Alexandrite.
"Happy Reaping Day!" Helena exclaimed into the microphone in her hand. She smiled upon the crowd. "Welcome everyone to the reaping for the 67th Hunger Games!" She continued on, just as cheery. "Our mentors this year will be Alexandrite King, victor of the 61st Hunger Games, and Palladium Ferox!" She gestured towards the two victors standing with her on the stage. Palladium's eyes were locked on mine as Helena walked over to one of the large glass balls. "Ladies first!" She cried as she reached her hand into the ball, mixed up the slips of paper, and withdrew a slip. She unfolded the piece of paper and smiled.
"Keyna Mason!" She read, scanning the lines of tributes. I stood rooted to the ground, still staring at Palladium, who looked like his heart had just been pulverized. Helena looked through the crowd of tributes once more, waiting for me to walk up to the stage. My feet felt like they were made of lead. The others stepped aside as I trudged miserably up to the stage. I stepped onto the stage, and took my place next to Helena.
"Congratulations Keyna!" She exclaimed, smiling brightly at me. Palladium stood next to me and took my hand as Helena crossed the stage, the heels of her pumps clicking as she walked. She repeated the same process with the other glass ball.
"Perseus King," called Helena. A chestnut haired boy from the group of seveteens came forward and took the stage. "Congratulations Perseus!" Helelna cooed with the same bright smile. It made me sick to my stomach. We were being offered up as bait, and she was smiling. Palladium had a death grip on my hand, and I was squeezing his back just as hard.
My worst nightmare was coming true. I had been reaped into the hunger games.