Author's Note: Hi guys! This is my new fanfiction aaaand the characters are based on my classmates.
TO MY CLASSMATES: The descriptions are sometimes exaggerated from real life but it's to avoid Mary Sues and Gary Stus, aka perfect characters.
So enjoy!
Prologue
The new Head Gamemaker named Cassius smiled at his fellow Gamemakers. He replaced Romulus Coriolanus, who was executed by the President for the lousy 28th Games. Even though Cassius was afraid, he was excited. He had lots of ideas. He would assure President Titinius it would be exciting.
"Three words: Ten, eight, six." Cassius said to Gamemakers. "This will be the best Games ever."
CHAPTER 1: DISTRICT 1 and 2 REAPING
I, Alliah Sapphire, was not someone who would likely volunteer, especially with what happened to my sister, Alyssa.
My older sister, Alyssa, was chosen by what District 1, 2, and 4 called the 'Institute' to volunteer for the Games. It was that, or death. The runner-up would kill you so they would be the one to replace you. Alyssa was brave, beautiful and confident, so she chose to volunteer, not knowing she signed up for a death contract. Before going to the Games, she told me two things that I shall never forget: protect our cousin Amethyst at all costs, and never to volunteer. Amethyst was a poor kid whose parents were killed.
When I watched the Games, I only remembered one scene. That scene was when she was murdered by a girl from District Six. The D6 girl crept up to the Careers as they slept—the guards (D1 male and D2 female) ran away; the others didn't know—and slit their (D2 and D4 male; D4 female was killed in the bloodbath) throats one by one, except for my sister. My sister gasped awake and tried firing an arrow at her, but someone took her arrows, which left her undefended. The attacker was quick and threw her knife directly at my sister's heart.
I hated District Six ever since.
This year, the Capitol found out about the District 1 Institute and for the first time, no one was chosen to volunteer for this year's Games. Every student was afraid to volunteer this time—they were afraid the Capitol might punish them. Also this year, Amethyst turned thirteen and I turned fifteen.
It was reaping day today and before going, I stood before the mirror. I had pulled up my hair into a high ponytail and applied eyeliner on, well, my eyes. They were what the elderly called 'Asian' eyes. I put light pink lipstick. I applied thick foundation to hide my pimples. I sighed. My sister was more beautiful than me. My tight, red dress reached up to my knees. I tried to pull them down more to shield my chubby legs. I had to wear very small shoes even though I had medium-sized feet. Every step I took, I winced.
My mother, father and baby brother named Eion walked me and Amethyst to the station where they would take some blood. As I entered the fifteen year-old sector, many thoughts crossed my mind. What if I got picked? I hoped not. But if I was, I would probably get a seven or eight as a training score, because I've trained using small knives last year. Our escort, Magnus, stood in front of the mic, ready to speak. His royal blue hair was combed up. He wore a polo, a black vest on top of it, and gray pants. He seemed pretty underdressed this year.
"Good morning, District One," Magnus started, his voice cracking like a boy through puberty. "Welcome to the annual Reaping for the Twenty-Ninth Hunger Games . . ."
A thought struck me and my eyes widened in horror. What if Amethyst got picked? What would I do? I wouldn't volunteer. Alyssa told me that. Surely someone would volunteer because we're Careers, right?
My chain of thoughts were broken when Magnus announced he would begin to pick the name for the ladies. Not Amethyst, not Amethyst, not Amethyst. I chanted inside.
"Amethyst Greene!"
I didn't quickly register what was going on. I saw Amethyst walk out of her sector, and slowly walked to the stage. I waited for someone, anyone to volunteer.
I clawed my way out of my sector and shouted the words that seemed to come from another person: "I volunteer as tribute!"
Joshua Combe's Reaping day was not going well.
My fourteen year-old self was eager for the Hunger Games. That was unlikely. I wanted to volunteer, to try the Games. I was confident I would win. But I wasn't really so sure. At sleepless nights, I found my mind arguing if I would volunteer or not.
As I ate breakfast, my mother described our 'changes' from last year to now. It was an annual 'event' in our family. I sat next to my thirteen year-old brother. He fiddled his spoon and played with his cereal.
"Joshua, my eldest! You've improved so much. Your height—you've grown almost one foot! Your eyes are darker in color. Your hair is curlier and longer. Don't cut it, okay? It's good on you. You've grown fatter—in a good way! And please, get rid of tucking in your clothes." His mother said and began with my brother's changes.
I stood up and went to my room to change. After changing into a red polo shirt under a blue unzipped jacket, and khaki pants, I tucked in my polo shirt and wore a belt. No one will ever make me change this style. It's my fashion trademark. I didn't wait for my brother and ran out of the house. The cold wind seemed like it slapped my face. I walked away from my house, eager to get inside the square and volunteer. Yes, I was very sure I needed to volunteer.
After what seemed like infinity, the escort of our district appeared on the stage and I didn't even listen on his Capitol-originated speech and didn't bother to watch the Capitol-originated video. Finally, it was time for the Reaping. My heart beat went fast and my eyes flared with eagerness and excitement. A small girl was chosen for the ladies but an ugly girl volunteered. Was she out of her mind? Her legs looked thin (A/N: Her legs are moderate-sized!). She needed chubby legs. With looks like that, sponsors would never choose her. But what makes you any different?! An annoying voice said in my mind.
Magnus asked her name. "My name is Alliah Sapphire." The girl replied monotonously. If she was afraid, she was properly concealing it.
"Ah, so perhaps you're related to Alyssa Sapphire from four years ago?" Magnus wondered. If she was a relative of a former tribute, it would be dreadful. There had been many cases like that before and they always died.
I saw the girl clench her fists. "Yes, she is my sister."
"Are you related to Ms. Amethyst here?" Magnus glance-pointed to Amethyst and the girl nodded and said she was her cousin. "Let's now clap our hands for our beautiful volunteer up here!"
The others in the crowd clapped for her blandly, while I pitied her. She will have such a short life. The annoying voice bothers me again. But what makes you different? I ignored it. Magnus reached for a slip of paper in the men's bowl. It was agonizing, waiting for him to open that piece of paper.
Then I suddenly didn't want to volunteer. That was my final decision.
But my joining the Games wasn't inevitable, because: "Joshua Combe!" I stood in horror, frozen. I was glanced at and thrown looks at. The crowd parted and I had no choice except to step away from my sector and walk to the stage.
When I walked up the stage, I saw my little brother faintly sobbing. I saw my mother, her head on her hands. I saw my father, his hand on my mother's shoulder. It still didn't sink in that I was about to die next week.
Together with the girl who volunteered and with Magnus, we entered the Justice Building.
Living in District Two was always a challenge. Especially being Amelia "Ace" Domitia, a daughter of a Victor. My mother was the Victor of the Ninth Hunger Games. She was seventeen, then. When she turned nineteen, she married stonemason Victor. It's weird right? Your mother was a Victor while your dad was Victor.
My mother and father secretly built a small training center under our home in the Victor's Village. I didn't know how they even built it, but when I was born, it was there. My parents forced me to train because they knew I was going to be picked. According to them, I was a Victor's daughter, as if that explained everything.
Years of training helped me build a strong shell to shield my tender personality. It just helped me a lot—also to be very fierce. When I was thirteen everyone said I looked very weak because I was a girl. That day, my mother cut my own hair and now it's a bob cut. I myself didn't know why that made things better.
People always said things like how I was so lucky to be so rich and blah blah blah. I hated the life. I was forced to train and train, even when it hurt. Everyone expected so much from me. I wanted to end my sufferings—end it all. There's only one way to finish it—and that was to join the Games. My mother and father would not miss me anyway. I just ruined their lives.
As I walked to the square, I saw many people glance at my attire and glare at it. I got that it wasn't formal, but it was still our choice what to wear. I walked to the seventeen year-old sector near the front and listened to what our escort, Daphne, was saying. It was the same for the seven years I've been eligible for the reaping. This year, our escort wore a grass green afro wig, her cheeks full of yellow. Her eyelashes were colored dark green and she wore yellow lipstick. She sported a sleeveless, dandelion dress that reached up to her knees. Her nails were colored yellow, too, and she wore green high heels.
It was time to pick the ladies' names. "Lana Alexis." Ooh, I've heard she was the one the Institute chose to participate. That means I can volunteer without opponents.
She walked proudly to the stage, with a broad smile. Her flowing blond hair reached to her knees and she was wearing very heavy make-up. I stepped away from my sector and screamed. "I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"
Everyone grew silent. Lana's smile faded slowly. She glared at me while I walked up the steps—actually I thought everyone glared at me and my outfit. Daphne looked disgusted at me as a whole.
"Well, well." She said in her Capitolite voice, concealing her disgust and her disappointment for District Two. "What is your name?" She said through gritted teeth.
I looked at the crowd. "My name is Amelia Domitia, or simply Ace." I saw my parents and saw their wide smiles, like they were happy their child will die—or were they proud of me for volunteering? Oh no. I realized if I would join, my mother would be with me. On the train. To the Capitol. She will be the one who will watch over me, guide me, and mentor me. She will see me die. How would she react—will she cry or rage or celebrate?
"Ah, the daughter of the famous Victor Minthe Lewis." Daphne smiled and I saw excitement twinkle in her eyes.
My name is Aeron Sciron and I would like to ask you if you would like to get some . . . decent bread and coffee?
My name is Aeron and can you be mine?
Hi, I'm Aeron, the one at school? I was hoping we could eat soup together some time…
Hi, my name's Aeron. I like your hair and you as a whole. Let's eat something together.
Hi, I'm Aeron; would you like to celebrate another year of living?
I thought of what I would say to the girl (I didn't know her name) I admired. I called her My Cute Girl instead. I planned to say it later, after the reaping. I dressed nicely this year. In the past five years, I had never dressed properly. I was always just wearing a simple t-shirt and simple pants.
Wait, I can't think straight. My mind was a table with food splattered all over it. All I could think of at that moment were My Cute Girl, reaping, my muscles, and sleep. Yep, I had muscles but my face was a mess. I had slit eyes that resembled a cat, a nose that looked like a clothes button and I had very large lips. My mother once told me that she freaked out when she saw me. She thought my lips were swelling. I thought she was exaggerating. I even consulted my friends Blake and Mason.
"Really, they aren't that bad…" Blake said, reassuringly. Mason nodded vigorously.
"Thank you guys, for being honest." I said. I remembered after turning away to walk home, I heard them snickering.
My mom knocked on the door. "Honey! It's time to goooo!" Her happy voice called. Even though I didn't see her, I could imagine her smiling. Mom always smiled. I opened the door and there she was, smiling broadly. She grabbed my face with two hands. "So proud of you. So proud of my Tribute. The chosen tribute. I love you, son." She kissed my cheeks.
I turned away and went down the stairs. My gloomy sister glared at me. She was done with her Reaping last year. I thought she would be happy but she was all frowns—as always.
"Time to leave, Airy." She said, rolling her eyes. She always ranted about regretting how she was the one who suggested my name. It came from the wind master Aeolus (Aer) and the Greek hero Jason (-on), thus my name: Aeron. I liked my name so much; it was unique and I liked the etymology. It was funny because my mother had a family business when she was a teen. The company's specialty soup was called Wind's Soup. 'That soup's very special. It was simply made but the customers liked it.' I asked her why it was called Wind's Soup and she laughed. Only that moment I realized it came from her name Wendy. On some regular day, the store burned down. Smoke was thick and customers panicked. My mother was unconscious inside the kitchen. She said her sister knocked her out because a boy her sister liked loved my mom. And that person was my mother's hero, the one who tried to find her because he couldn't find her in the crowd. He carried her out of the store and saved her. That person was my father, coincidentally his name was Hiro. After telling that story, she always said to my sister: "So don't blow the soup when you think it's hot. Stir it first." My sister always blushed. Inside, I was like, What are you guys even talking about?
Anyway, my sister and my parents walked with me to the square. I saw the girl I liked but she didn't see me. She was too busy to see me. I never saw her parents, and her house. She didn't look like she lived in the commoners' area like the others. She was my type. I saw her walk to the seventeen-year-old sector and inside I was screaming, WE'RE THE SAME AGE OMERGNRNFURHUFWJ. Our escort Daphne began talking and I thought, 'Who even listens to her? It's the same speech every year! Just speed up to the Reaping itself!'
Finally, Daphne said a District 2 name. "Lana Alexis!" She was my partner for the Hunger Games. What a coincidence that she was Reaped; she was chosen by the Institute. It gave way for weaklings-who-think-they-can-win to volunteer and shame our district. And yep, I was right. I snickered when some girl shouted that she would volunteer.
But I was wrong, too. I went red as she went up the stage. It was My Cute Girl. Oh no, how was I going to kill her if I loved her? You know what made things worse? She was a Victor's daughter. A VICTOR'S DAUGHTER. People knew what happened to Victors' children. They die in the Games. It made me want to volunteer more.
Daphne put her hand inside the men's bowl and went for the deepest one. She showed it to the crowed and slowly opened it. "Le—"
"I VOLUNTEER!"
Daphne quickly looked at me and smiled. "Come here, young man." I did what she told me to do and she asked what my name was.
"My name is Aeron Sciron." I said. My Cute Girl—Ace was her name—glanced at me and her eyes widened as if to say 'Oh my god his face is a mess!' or maybe 'He's so hot I might melt.' Perhaps, 'How am I going to kill him?'
"Wonderful name!" Daphne smiled while holding my muscly arm. "Here with me are District Two's tributes: Ace Domitia for the girls and Aeron Sciron for the boys!"
A/N: Liked it? :D Review, fave and follow!
