Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or any of the characters besides my own characters.
Back story: The story takes place in the next Quarter Quell (25 years later). Haymitch is dead, Peeta never recovered but doesn't want to kill Katniss anymore. Katniss is a drunk because she is depressed because of Peeta. The Games are still going on and the rebellion never happened. Coin's younger sister is the new president. (they share the same last name)
"Come on kids, time for the card selection." My dad says. The Capitol insists on reminding us of the Games year round. It seems like the Victory Tour just ended, but no matter what, today is the day that President Coin will draw the Quarter Quell card. "Nia! Get in here!" I drag myself out of my bed and run to the kitchen to see the card selection. My mom is always upset whenever we have to watch anything related to the Games, so she grabs some tissues for when she cries. My two brothers, Gage and Caiden, sit on the couch with me. My mom and dad just stand to watch the card selection since we don't have enough room on the couch.
The black screen comes to life and I see Silas Flickerman speaking about the upcoming Games. Everyone in the Capital is excited, so we hear the crowd cheering and shouting. Silas starts talking about the last Victor, a girl from District 3 called Kira, and a big screen behind him accompanies him with photos. There is a brief clip of the last person killed in the arena, and then I see the Capitol emblem. The reading of the card is about to start, and there is the anthem to prove it. Silas is thrilled for the big event that is coming up. President Coin is on the stage with a young boy dressed in a white suit carrying a wooden box.
President Coin reminds us all of the Dark Days and I tune out as she goes over the usual material that includes how the Games began and so on. She starts to tell us about the other Quarter Quells. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it." I imagine myself being picked to be a tribute and how betrayed I would feel if one of my own family members had voted for me. "On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."
Forty seven tributes were sent that year. Facing that many tributes would be terrifying. The odds would certainly not be in your favor. The president continues, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the tributes were selected from the existing pool of victors." Being a victor used to mean that you were safe from the Games, but now you don't even win that. Every year up to this one, everyone knew that nobody was safe.
"And now we honor our fourth Quarter Quell," The little boy steps forward and opens the wooden box for the president. All of us can see the rows of yellow cards. President Coin selects one that is marked with a black 100. She rips open the flap and snatches the card out of the envelope. She is almost giddy when she reads, "On the one hundredth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that only those who sided with the Capitol survived, half of the tributes will receive a weapon of their choice and survival equipment." My jaw drops as I think about how much I do not want to be chosen this year.
I hear my mom crying and turn around to comfort her, but my dad is already taking care of that. She gets upset every time she hears anything about the Games because she knew one of the tributes a few years ago. There was one boy who always bought from my family's bakery. His name was Orion Banter. He used to stay after we closed and he would help us clean up, which was no easy task. My mother was crushed when he was selected as a tribute. He was shot in the head with a bow and arrow and died instantly.
There is no way I can get the Games out of my mind, but I attempt to do so by going to work at my family's bakery. It's the same one that Peeta Mellark used to work at, but now he is in the victor's village with Katniss. He doesn't remember his family, and certainly not his distant relatives, so we are still as poor as ever. There aren't any customers to serve, so I decide to wash dishes. I go over to the sink only to find a massive pile of dirty dishes because I have been slacking off over the past few days. I'm surprised nobody ever told me the stack was getting this high, but I start washing them anyways.
It takes me about an hour to finish washing dishes, but the Games don't leave my mind. I still feel trapped by the Capitol, confined in a District where I have to work, but I still starve. I'm still required to put my name in the reaping ball every year, and this year the odds are certainly not in my favor.