Hi! This is my first fanfic so please enjoy! The first few parts are a little explainy but I promise the whole story is really full of action! I've put this story on Instagram and everyone seemed to like it so I hope you do too! Please leave comments I love reading them whether good or bad:)
I'm worthless, and all I'll ever be is worthless. It has been etched into my brain for years and probably for the rest of my life. The sad part is, I'm starting to believe it. I am awakened to the sound of my mother cussing and smashing things of glass in the other room. It makes sense, since its the 4 year anniversary of this family's demise. Every time I hear her screech out my name I feel the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand. After all, I am to blame for my mother's fury. It's my fault. I take a long deep breath in to calm my troubled nerves and brace myself for the worst.
Like a hurricane, my mother swings open the wooden door and her wild red eyes dart aimlessly around the nearly empty room.
She looks awful. It's hard to believe that at one point of her life, my mother was beautiful, with think long blonde hair, a petite figure, and she was one of those people that one could never get angry because she was so sweet. But all of that changed about 6 or 7 years ago, when father left. Without a provider, she was left to do everything. Sure, the district helped as much as they could, but raising two children alone required a job and income.
Father's departure devastated my mother. I remember the day perfectly. I was locked up in my room and I had my ear pressed hard against the cold wooden door, drowning in my tears. Each sentence was broken up into fragments that I have yet to decipher but I did hear my name thrown around a few times. That's when I concentrated harder but with no luck. I heard a final door slam which made me jump out of my skin. Then silence. But it didn't last long. My mother was in hysterics. A lot like how she is on reaping days now.
Her flowing locks turned into stringy, dull, lifeless hair. Her body had become a hollow bony shell from the lack of food we had in our house. Her glowing skin turned an ashen color. And her new wrinkles have aged her face far beyond her years. She petrified me. Especially on reaping day.
My mother grabbed me by my stringy hair and threw me down on the cold wooden ground. "I hope you get picked so I can get you out of my life for good!" She spit at me. These words stung me a few years but I'm almost immune to their power now. I hear this every year. I just keep my saddened eyes fixed on theground.
Big mistake. I feel the sting of Mother's hand swipe across my delicate cheek and the shock sets in. "Look at me when I talk to you!" She screams pressing her nose up against mine. The smell of smoke and alcohol fill my nose as I'm surrounded by her retched breath. Close to tears I slowly lift my glassy eyes to look at her. I can see the blind rage all over her face. "I never want to see your face in this house again!" Her Her hand pushes my chest and my frail body collapses to the ground. I try to recover with out shedding a tear. "Here," she throws a dress, some shoes, and socks at me. "Put them on and get yourself to the reaping." I stare blankly at the clothes as I hear her footsteps disappear and the door slam shut behind her. It was now safe to let allow a few tears to escape.