SUPERIORITY BY A WANNABE-SPACE-INVADER

SUMMARY

IN this world there are the Prettie people who live in the Capitol and the average people who are usually too poor to have the operation. What operation you say? The pretty operation; discovered recently, a method of taking what you look like, scrapping all the ugly parts and changing it into something easy on the eyes. The capitol is a lead distributer of this "plastic surgery" and of course they always need test subjects.

That's where the hunger games come in. Of course the games were around long before the 'pretty plan' but back then the districts were filled with anger and rumours began to grow about the Prettie people becoming an army to be used against the districts, to rid them of rebellion. The operation took everything from them, making them into robots. They started sending Pretties from the capitol back home for the reaping; waiting for the one day when they would find out that pretties were more than just toys.

Who are the superior race, Uglies or Pretties? Only the hunger games will decide.

CHAPTER ONE

EVERY year all thirteen of the district's gather in the square and we watch the regular Pretties parade around on stage. Some of them were once close to me but they've all changed now, been taken away. I watched a lot of close friends leave and come back a different person. Most of them don't even remember me. She was the only one that I was close enough to call family, the only one I couldn't watch walk away. It still confused me why she went, was she looking for something? I watch as she walks across the stage, fumbling clumsily and is caught by her father. Though she was adopted they look exactly alike. During the operation he changed her so much. Her fair, light skin sparkled lightly in the sun almost blinding me as it reflected into the crowd. Not at all like the old worn, tan skin she had grown from the hard days and nights of living on the street.

I could feel my stomach growling and I didn't know whether it was because of my growing hunger or because this was the first time I'd seen her since she'd left. Her long blonde hair was held back by a small silver hair band that matched her new silver eyes. She smiled up to her father and continued across the stage, holding his hand.

I remembered back to a time when we were practically a family. She had always cut her hair so short and her eyes were a dull brown, sunken into her face from not eating. I could picture her in my mind, her messy horribly cut hair, and thin wrists. She always used to have a red nose. During Christmas we called her Hayley the red nosed reindeer; but obviously I'd meant nothing to her, if she could leave me so quickly. The thought stung deep down but I was used to ignoring it.

I zoned back into reality and couldn't look up at the 'improved' Hayley. She was just too different.

Watching the ground and I wandered over to the herd of my age group towards the back. Trying to listen to the pretties from the capitol that seemed to drone on and on about the games and about the pretties coming home once a year to celebrate even though they had never picked a Prettie before. What exactly are we celebrating anyway? They explained the rules of choosing a boy and a girl from each district which was projected onto the large screen above the stage. I was almost positive that my name was going to be drawn. I lived in an orphanage where every child gets their name put in more than ten times for tesserae. And this year they hadn't bothered to tell me how many times.

Finally they were drawing the names. I looked up to see a tall Middle Prettie dancing around for the camera's before she reached in and pulled out a name. I couldn't even blink as the minutes ticked on she called out that name. I couldn't breathe. I should have been paying attention when they had said they were drawing the girls name first. But it was just as shocking as I watched her bounce up onto the stage again. She looked so innocent and happy. Bubbly was what they called it. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

The crowd clapped a forced hollow echo but I could barely raise a hand let alone make sound.

'Come on district 12!' the announcer grinned. 'Let's put our hands together for Hayley Bliss.'

The name didn't suit her; I'd barely recognised her until she'd hopped onto the stage. She looked so happy, it burned inside. I knew she was going to die. Before I realised it the people around me were pushing me to the front as well. I stumbled up onto the stage in shock. She was looking at me with such an innocent face. I could almost cry, my heart was pounding, everything was happening so quickly. In the rush of seeing her heading towards a death sentence I hadn't even heard my own name called.

It wasn't long before they were dragging us off to the main office building where we say goodbye to our families. I sat in the waiting room, knowing that no one would come to say good bye. They weren't horrible people at the orphanage just very busy with all the other children. I could hear muffled voices from the room next door but inside my head I was drifting off to a place where I had a chance of being happy. I barely realised that someone was standing at the door watching me; their voice bringing me back from my thoughts.

'Didn't think I'd let you go without saying g' bye, did you?' he smiled walking in and sitting next to me.

He was a frail old man walking with the help of a large stick. His thin arms and legs shook as he walked and I was afraid he was going to fall. 'Of course not,' Doe said stiffly knowing he should be more happy. 'You shouldn't have left your home. It's dangerous. Your sick'

'Well, I didn't think those parents would bother and you shouldn't be sitting 'ere alone, what it being a grim day like this.' He said and coughed loudly.

'They aren't my parents,' I muttered awkwardly.

I helped him sit in a chair and lent his stick against the wall. He watched me disapprovingly. 'You should know; your name was in more times than the whole of the town together!' he said ignoring my comment.

I sighed and dragged the chair sitting across the room over, waiting for him to speak.

He merely watched me with a stern gaze which must have taken many years to perfect; just the right amount of superiority but also wise and hard. He was someone I looked up to, a hero is what some people would say but a hero isn't nearly as cruel.

'Well do you remember anything I taught you? Or did you forget it all when you were watching the pretty ladies strut across the stage?' he growled. The concept that I might actually be killed isn't at all crossing his mind.

'Yes,' I stated annoyed slightly.

'Well?'

'Well what?'

'Show me something!' he ordered.

I just stood there dumbfounded. I was practically on my deathbed and he wanted me to give him a show? He never managed to surprise me. I was going to die, might as well give up now. Not that anyone's around to miss me. 'Why bother,' I sighed and began to leave.

'Kid'

I stopped a foot from the door and listened as he spoke his last words. 'Do me a favour; don't get yourself killed.'

I nodded and left, leaving the door to swing closed behind me. That conversation though it had barely taken five minutes had left me drained and empty. Pushing my hair back from my face I looked up to see her watching me. Our eyes met for a split second before her father dragged her back into the room, and I heard him stuttering an excuse of why not to leave yet before the door slammed shut. I was surprised she even remembered me. They could do anything during the pretty operation.

But I was ready; I would go into the arena with absolutely no hope of survival. My life is meaningless anyway; only a crippled old man to miss me now. BRING IT ON