Disclaimer: I'm just a writer, like you.
Before you start the story, here is a little poem I HAD to make about The Hunger Games for a GRADE, and yes I own it, very dearly A+.
The Girl on Fire
As a Tribute of District Twelve
Katniss promised to win
For her sister's happiness
She wore a mockingjay pin.
Watching deaths of friends and enemies,
Her heart filled with desire
And to win she did
Because she is the girl on fire.
Chapter 1
"Hold tighter!"
I snapped my attention to the net. The prey was tipping over because of the thrashing water. With my senses finally returning, I pulled the net back while multiple waves tempt to break through the blockade of fish.
I looked over to my uncle. He gave me the signal to move back. I started to walk slowly backwards. My front was occupied, so I could not see my footing. I knew I should have been more cautious, knowing the shore contained a galore amount of small rocks and almost no gap to place my foot in. I stepped on something sharp, which caused my balance to fail. I grimaced and tried to endure it. And as if to exacerbate the situation, another giant wave, about the height up to my waist, was heading towards me.
"I told you to let me handle it," someone breathed behind me.
Matt took over my grip and called back to my uncle. My uncle shook his head and started to bring his end to our side.
Moments later, I found myself lapsed on a boulder, while the guys pile our catch in a bucket.
My uncle came over and yelled, "Crystel, if all you're going to do is space out, don't help!"
I was going to get up and yell back at him, but the pain in my left foot still stung.
"Gee, you can't even handle a little pain. What a waste." My uncle added and walked back to the equipment.
I sat there with my eyes blurred until someone came over and handed me my shoes. I blinked back the waterworks at the sound of his voice.
"Was it Roge?" Matt asked.
I kept my silence and looked away.
"You're thinking, 'Why wasn't there anyone to volunteer in his place?' Right?" Matt saw through her.
"Yeah well, maybe if he was still alive, I wouldn't have to be put up with all this." I blurted.
Matt put his hand on my shoulder.
"Want to talk about it?"
I looked into Matt's eyes. I could see the concern in those dark brown eyes. Ever since we were little, whenever he gave me that look, I felt a sense of belonging. But he can also use it in advantage to rob my inner secrets with it as well.
"I—"
Then we heard my uncle calling Matt over.
Matt gave a sigh.
"We'll talk about this later." He said.
"Later? What do you mean later?" I gave a questioning look.
Matt was already walking away and pretended not to hear the question.
I sat there like a fool, watching the men work their sweat off carrying loads of fish upstream where the Peacemakers examine it before sending it to the Capitol.
I started to look at the river, so freely going wherever it wants. The Capitol can't control the river. But the Capitol can control us. Every aspect of life is being manipulated in their hands. Because they are the towers and we are the ground. We get stepped on, they do the stepping. If we ever rise, they'll slam us back down. Just thinking about how weak we are makes me feel sick.
"You should go check up on the shop, Cris." Matt called out.
He gestured me to go away and eyed at my uncle when his back was turned.
I mouthed, thanks to which he responded with a thumbs up, and saw my escape.
I sneaked behind some of the working men upstream, just past my uncle's watch, and took my leave through a separated trail.
Being here many times since I was a kid, I was familiar with the routine of ducking and jumping all over the branched out leafs. I kept in mind that there was nothing creepy in these trees. In a few seconds, I found myself in an opened field.
This field brought back memories. Every time I walk through here, I would halt for a moment, take a deep breath and hum the lullaby my brother used to sing. When I was three, my father would take us over to the stream to catch fish. Well, father actually wanted me brother so when he grew up, he'd help out and become a Net-Worker. I was always fond of my brother, so I'd tag along. But when we get close to the trail, where the trees collide, I'd always whine and talked of mutts in the trail. Having seen so much of the Hunger Games, it wasn't abnormal to fear the muttations.
In the end, father suggested my brother to calm me down in this same clearing. My brother would take out his treasured harmonia and played the lullaby. I started making up the lyrics soon, since I loved it so much.
I took out the harmonia and started playing. This harmonia was somewhat of an heirloom. It belonged to one of my family ancestors probably when Panem was never even created. Maybe it was even more ancient than dad said. The cover plates were fading in color. You can still see splotches of golden on them, but overall, the harmonia was gray as metal. The screws were all rusted and required a new set, but such particles were pretty much extinct in our district. Without a doubt, this harmonia still works like new.
I walked home to my family's shop, thinking about the girl who volunteered herself over her sister. It seems like it was just yesterday when I was lined up to see my own brother's name get picked out. Tears started dripping down my face just like that same day when I had no idea why. But today I know exactly why.
So this is my first chapter. I'm not really sure about my commitment, which I have a problem in my stories. But I'll try my best to keep it up D; And if you have any advice/ideas, feel free to tell me because I'm starting to get lost on how to develop this story.
I'd like to say thanks to my friend Dani for reading the first part of this :D
This story contains mostly my OCs, but I was wondering if I should intertwine their paths with Katniss and Peeta, etc. So feel free to give me your opinion.
