Hi! Thanks for taking the time to actually read my FanFic. This is my first, so critism is welcomed and appreciated. Let me know if you find anything that needs to be fixed!
Disclaimer: In no way, shape, or form do I have the honor to own the Hunger Games. Only Suzanne Collins has the honor to say so.
I woke up, just like I would any other day, until I realized… Today isn't any ordinary day. It's reaping day. Today, two unlucky children will have to be sent to represent District 11 in the 54th Hunger Games, a game where 24 tributes (two from each district) fight to the death, until the last one standing becomes a victor. This is the capitol's idea of a punishment and reminder for the rebellions of District 13, which happened 54 years ago. Angered, the Capitol sent bombs to District 13, and now, District 13 ceases to exist. To the Capitol, the Games are a mere form of entertainment. The gamemakers do all they can to please the audience, giving them the best show they can provide. "The best show" often means adjusting the arena to force the tributes together where they have a bloodbath. Meanwhile, the 24 tributes in the area are doing all they can to survive and get back home.
In my closet I see the outfit that my mother has laid out for me. Everyone has to look their best on Reaping Day. I look at our one and only mirror in our small house. I guess I could say I'm pretty. I brush my silky dirty blonde hair. My hair looks as if it were stained with coffee, and I like it. My skin is pale, unlike my mother's tan skin. After tying my hair into a neat braid, I allow myself to think about the Hunger Games, and my odds of getting reaped. This year, I'm 16, which means that my name is in the ballet 5 times. But for tesserae, I put my name in 5 more times, doubling my odds of getting chosen. Many people in the Seam do this, because we are all barely scraping by. The elderly are praised for their longevity, because most of the population dies at an early age. Those who have round bellies are treated with respect, because they have more food than the rest of us. I can't believe that the Capitol treats food like it is air, throwing it around, not thinking of the less fortunate in the other 12 districts. They wouldn't be able to survive a day in the arena, with no servants or food appearing at the push of a button. The Capitol needs every single district, each for a different purpose. For example, District 11 is "used" for its agriculture. The only reason the capitol bothers to keep us around is for the supplies we provide for them. They should be thankful for our work. Instead, they punish us, by killing our children, year after year.
I go downstairs to find my seven year old sister eating breakfast. I dread the day when, she too, will have to enter her name in the ballot. After a light breakfast (I can't hold in anymore), I head off into the valley, which is the only place I find peace in this prison. Everyone is off work today, spending time with their family, until the Reaping where we witness the two who will be taken away and forced to fight to the death. District 11 doesn't train their children, awaiting the day when they might be chosen for the Hunger Games, unlike Districts 1 & 2, who are favored by the Capitol. They're known as the Carreers in the Games, and usually win. Our district has only had a few victors, and most have died of age or sickness. If it was a normal day, I would be in a tree, picking fruit off of the tallest trees, working. District 11 is used for its agricultural purposes, with lush green fields at every turn. Where I am sitting right now, mockingjays soar through the air. I sing a short song and they mock me by singing it back. Soon, a whole chorus of the song fills the empty space. I feel a smile from on my face. It's probably going to be my only smile for the rest of the day. Suddenly I hear my best friend, Plum, beside me. We do everything together, friends since Grade 1. Though we are all struggling to survive within the strict rules of District 11, Plum is getting the worst of it. Her mother is ill with a sickness that only the Capitol has the cure for. We can't afford it here. The Peacekeepers still make her work in the intense heat. They beat her if she's too slow. Plum is the one who provides for the family now, and she's small. She works as hard as she can, but it's still not enough to provide for her family of five. District 11 has many strict rules, not wanting to fail the Capitol. I hear the bell which signals the start of something we all dread, the reaping. "Come on, Plum," I say, "We don't want to be late." She reluctantly follows me towards the square.
I sign in as they take a sample of my blood, making sure that I didn't run off to try to hide from the inevitable. They send me towards my platform with the rest of the 16-year old girls. I reach for Plum's hand and find that we're both sweating. No one wants to be a tribute. Wanting to distract myself, I look over to my right and see a pair of bright cocoa brown eyes staring back at me- Jabari Stone. All the girls adore him, but I don't see what's so great about him. Sure, he's very handsome, but he's a jerk, thinking that his looks will get others to do things for him. Why is he looking at me? I must be mistaken. He has plenty of other girls to occupy him. He's probably looking at someone else, and I realize I'm jealous... I quickly avert my eyes and focus on the stage instead. Toffie Gush is walking towards the microphone. She's from the capitol, happy to take two of District 11's kids. She's the tributes' escort, and I feel sorry for whoever has to deal with her. Toffie's ignorant, selfish, and an all-around typical Capitol citizen. The Panem anthem fills my ears and brings my attention back. Then the annual speech is made about District 13, and why we have the Hunger Games. Soon, too soon, the Reaping begins. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Toffie announces. I roll my eyes at her ridiculous accent. "Ladies first!" The grip of Plum's hand tightens as Toffie reaches into the reaping ball…"Plum Vastiline!" My heart breaks. The world freezes. I can't think. Plum Vastiline… The girl standing right next to me. My best friend. I can't take it anymore. "I volunteer as tribute!" Everyone looks stunned. District 11 rarely has volunteers. I know that I must take Plum's place. Her family won't survive otherwise. "No! You don't have to do this," Plum rebels. "Yes I do," I reply. I slowly make my way towards the stage, all eyes on me. "Now what's your name, darling?" inquires Toffie.
"Sadira Proulx," I answer.
"Very well," Toffie says, "On to our second tribute!" She reaches into the second reaping ball.
"Jasper Stone!"
"No, no, no, no, NO!" shouts Jabari, Jasper's older brother. He volunteers as tribute. Everyone gasps. The prince of District 11 will be fighting to the death in the Hunger Games, and I will be fighting against him. I sigh. I hate the capitol.
