I'm bored, so about I write a Hunger Games short story?

...

My name is Lenny Legend. I am twelve. My sister Pranci Lynn has wrecked everything. Let her feel the pain.

The Hunger Games has barely begun. That career has shoved a knife into my chest. I let him. I am a weakling. I don't stand a chance.

Three weeks ago, my life was fine. Well, as fine as it can get when your parents are dead. I had a seventeen-year-old sister named Cherrie and a five-year-old sister named Pranci Lynn. And then, when the reaping came around, Pranci Lynn had to go and wreck everything.

Including her life. But she doesn't understand what she's done. She's only five, after all.

But one day she will.

...

Two weeks earlier

...

"It's called the Hunger Games, Pranci Lynn," my sister Cherrie explained the night before the reaping.

"A game?" Pranci Lynn's eyes sparked with interest.

"A dangerous game. A game you never want to be in."

"I want to play a game," Pranci Lynn said stubbornly.

"Trust me, not this one," I cut in, coming to the table. "Twenty-three people die each year because of it."

"They roll dice?"

My sister is five. Why does she act like she's not even a year old?

"The Hunger Games are anything but fun." Cherrie explained through clenched teeth.

"I want to play this year!" Pranci Lynn shouted.

Was I ever so glad sne was so young.

"You can't." I explained. "It's only for children from twelve to eighteen. Cherrie and I might have to go in. We might get chosen. Tomorrow they will choose who goes."

My sister frowned.

"But I want to play the game now." she protested.

"Maybe in seven years," Cherrie told her. She turned to me. "She'll understand by then."

It didn't matter if she would understand in seven years. Because she didn't understand the next day.

...

The Reaping

...

I gave Cherrie a quick hug, then ran to the twelve-year-old section. She went over to the other seventeen-year-olds.

"So, I believe it is time to choose our girl tribute. First, though, are there any volunteers?"

"Me!"

Two minutes later, Pranci Lynn had mounted the steps. I gaped at her.

A Peacekeeper stared at her.

"You're awfully small. Are you sure you're not too young?"

"My name is Pranci Lynn Legend. I am going to play the game this year. Beacause I love games!"

"How old are you?"

Pranci Lynn hesitated.

"Twelve."

"What are you doing?" I shouted, running forward. I grabbed my sister by the shoulders.

"She's only five," I told the Peacekeepers. "I'm sorry. She doesn't understand that this isn't a game."

The Peacekeeper gave me a long stare.

"What's your name?"

I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, but still I replied, "Lenny Legend."

"How old are you?"

"Why should I answer? Why do you need to know?"

The Peacekeeper placed a hand on her gun.

"Age?"

"Twelve!" I gasped.

The Peacekeeper smiled, and her hand dropped.

"Our male tribute this year, Lenny Legend!"

"What?" I screamed.

"You up here," the peacekeeper explained. "So you must be a volunteer."

"But I'm not-" I stuttered, glancing at Pranci Lynn. What has this girl done?

"As for the girl," the peacekeeper started toward Pranci Lynn.

"Stop!" Cherrie screamed, pushing forward. "She doesn't know what's happening. She's too young for the games! Just go reap another girl! And a boy for that matter. My brother did not volunteer!" I cpile tell she was trying very hard not to cry.

"Lenny is going into the Hunger Games, and that's that." the peacekeeper told Cherrie menacingly.

I felt dizzy.

"Fine! Just go reap a girl." Cherrie grabbed Pranci Lynn by the hand.

"Comw on, Pranci. Let's go. Pranci. Pranci Lynn Legend. Come on!" Cherrie pushed her forward gently. "Please."

My younger sister refused to budge. "I want to play the game!"

The peacekeeper has had enough. She whipped out her gun so fast I nearly toppled over from fright.

"Get off the stage!" she screamed.

Cherrie's eyes widened. She grabbed Pranci Lynn's hand and tried to drag her forward.

The peacekeeper's patience snapped. She squeezed the trigger, and both my sisters fell.

One had to have dragged the other down. I ran to them and turned them over.

Pranci Lynn's eyes were wide.

"Lenny, that loud noise is scaring me," she whimpered.

Cherrie hadn't said a word. Her eyes stared blankly, and I knew the bullet had hit her.

She was dead.

...

Back to the Hunger Games

...

The career pulled out the knife and ran away. I sit down, leaning against a tree, struggling to breathe.

Pranci Lynn is watching. She must be. She's watching me die. She probably doesn't understand what is happening. What she has done.

I'm ready to die. I am not afraid.

One day, Pranci Lynn will understand. She'll realize what she did. She'll know that it is her fault her brother and sister died.

It is all her fault. That pesky five-year-old girl. The Hunger Games is not some fun game. That was stupid, running forward to volunteer for it. Now she has to watch her brother die.

"Feel the pain, Pranci Lynn..." I struggle to say as loud as I can.

I am truly dying. Everything's disappearing. But I don't feel any pain.

No. I can't die yet. I can't end everything with my sister just like that. She didn't understand. Cherrie and I shouldn't have explained it to her so soon. We did a bad job of it. I can't let her feel the pain.

"I still love you," I gasp before everything is gone. My last thought is, And I always will. It wasn't your fault.