A/N: Just to let everyone know, I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins owns every character I mention. A lot of the plots in my story will be the same kind of idea of The Hunger Games, but at the same time very different.
Here it starts with Katniss and her beloved younger sister, Prim, heading to the reaping. The entire story is from Katniss' point of view, like the real books. Katniss and Peeta are close friends, though recently they discussed their feelings for each other and, well, they both know they love one another. A lot.
Gale is a meany bully to Katniss, though he still hunted with her.
Alright, let's get started! Don't forget to comment any feedback to me! Thank you, and please enjoy!
It was a bright and sunny day, as Prim and I walked to the reaping in the square in our supposed 'good clothes', though they still looked as tatty as everything else the Seam kids wear.
Why am I worrying about what I'm wearing, anyway? It should be Prim and Peeta's safety I think about. This morning I bit my nails to the nubs with worry for the two, though not in Prim's sight.
I don't want her thinking I'm weak. If I'm weak, she'll give up all together. My Mother already has.
Holding Prim's hand, the two of us got into a line to take some blood, but Prim started whimpering and held back. I sighed.
"Little Duck, they just need to take a little blood. It doesn't hurt much, come on. Once you're done I'll come and find you." All the while I was saying this, Prim's face was contorted with obvious fear and she was shaking her head. "Prim, come on." I say more insistently.
She finally comes, though sticking close to me, until we get to a table where the Peacekeeper there grabs my hand, takes some blood, and shoves the tip of my finger to the paper with my name on it.
I quickly move on, looking for Prim, and spot her up ahead of me. I decide to get her after the reaping, and stay where I am with all of the other sixteen year old girls.
While everyone is filed out and standing in the square outside the Justice building, the mayor of District 13 comes up to the microphone.
"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," he says. Then he reads the list of past District 12 victors. In seventy-four years, we've only had two. The other is dead, and the next is Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged man. He's always drunk, just like he is now, as he comes staggering up to the stage, muttering unintelligible things.
He falls off the stage, and everyone's attention is turned off him. He disgusts me. His lack of soberness is probably why we never get victors.
The mayor embarrassedly invites Effie Trinket on stage. Bright and bubbly as ever, she trots to the stadium, unnatural pink hair bouncing around. She comes up to the microphone and does her signature, "And may the odds be ever in your favor!" I snigger at this, because Peeta and I had made fun of what she'd just said while we were in the woods, and I was teaching Peeta to use a bow and arrow. Stupid, high-pitched Capitol voice. Thinking of Peeta, I tear my eyes away from the sickeningly hilarious sight before me and search for Peeta. There, I can see him. He's looking at Effie with a kind of amused grimace. I hold back a laugh, despite these cruel times, and turn my attention, and eyes, back to Effie.
She goes over to a big glass bowl, filled with slips of 12 and up to 18 year old girls' names.
"Ladies first!" Effie annoyingly trills. She holds up her hand in a silly dramatic way, waves it around, and then plunges her hand in the bowl, resurfacing again with a piece of paper that holds an unfortunate child's name.
Effie moves back to the microphone, opens the piece of paper, clears her throat, and says loudly, "Primrose Everdeen!"
A/N: Please! I beg of you to review!
-Naomi
