Flashes of Gold
Introduction: Wren Fey was practically born in the forest surrounding her home. Her twin sister loathes her, her mother ignores them, and her father is missing. There is only one person who she truly feels safe around, and that is Evon, the only one who took the time to gain her trust, and now she doesn't have him anymore, either.
When she is called to be a tribute for this years Hunger Games, she doesn't know what to feel. She knows only one thing: winning is a must. If she wins, she can see if her is still alive father. She can show to everyone in District 7 that she's someone to be reckoned with. She can get Evon back from her evil sister, Calan. But first things first. If she ever wants to see Evon again - and he's the only one she cares enough about in District 7 - then she must come out Victorious in the Hunger Games. Now, if only her mentor wasn't such a bitch...
Prologue
My name is Wren Fey, District Seven, and there is only one thing I hate: my twin.
It started not so long ago. The battle for our mother's affections had begun after father left. We grew up surrounded by our distrust for each other, allowed it to fester with every moment of our mother's ignorance. She could never have known about our battles – never did know, even when our glares morphed into physical combat, and more. She had dimmed from this world, and noticed us only when she needed to.
Calan was always the innocent one. Her long blonde hair seemed to give her an angelic halo. I loathed her for being so naturally beautiful. Standing beside her, with my coarse black hair and skinny body, I felt silly, childish. Like I had when we were small and vying for our mother's attention. She had always gained it.
I know it's because I look liked father. We share the same hair and have the same shaded golden eyes. We had the same personality, too – fierce and protective. After he left, mother couldn't take looking at me. She intrinsically noticed Calan, because it didn't bring her pain to look at her. Not with her matching golden hair and pretty blue eyes. She didn't look like the man who betrayed her.
It didn't happen to just mother. Of course, I can't entirely blame the rest of them. When boys coddled up to Calan, it was because of both her beauty and her personality. Her voice was attractively high, and had an alluring pitch to it that left my own voice sounding dirty and scratchy. The way she batted her eyelashes and walked with the swing of her hips; how she laughed her tinkling laugh and joked and caressed...it propelled her into a social life that did nothing for me.
But even though I didn't care to be her – didn't want to have boys falling over my every word and a wide circle of friends – I still wondered. I wondered what it would be like, to have a personality that didn't drive people away. I wondered what I felt like to be so popular. I wondered why Calan always seemed to get everything I wanted.
Over the years, I learned to detest her for it. My hatred wasn't like the squabbling arguments we had as children, but were rather built from those. Like a fire, they scorched through every conversation I had with her, intensified with every look we exchanged. I know she felt it too, because it was during the summer of our seventeenth year that she did the one thing unforgivable. She stole the boy who was my only friend, who could have been a lover. The one boy who meant more to me than anything else imaginable. Evon Miller.
Chapter One | Playing with Satan...erm, Calan
Alright, so I lied. There are two things I hate: my twin, and dressing up in these frilly, ridiculous dresses. Never mind that it happens to be Reaping Day.
I don't know where Calan is, but I don't need to know. The small knot of boys up ahead gives away her location. I have to admit, with much jealousy and spite, that she looks lovely. Her blue dress highlights the delicate curve of her cheekbones, and make her eyes seem to be aflame. Mother had helped do her hair in a sweet half-up hairstyle, and it showcased the long angle of her neck.
I didn't bother looking down at my own outfit. My green dress was far from ugly, but didn't flatter me the way Calan's did. The fabric gave me a rustic presence. The color seemed to dull the gold of my eyes. My figure, which was far from the full one of my sister, was shown in the worst of ways, giving my waist a cinched sort of look that made me appear far too skinny. I brushed a strand of hair from my eyes. The black strands weren't pulled back in a fanciful manner, but rather tied messily at the nape of my neck, carelessly thrown over my shoulder.
I kept my eyes firmly ahead as I passed over her group, but my blatant lack of interest was probably what made my sister call out to me. At the sound of my name, I stopped, jerked my head toward her, and tried not to look at who she was currently clutching at.
It didn't matter, though, because she made me look at him. She enjoyed rubbing it in my face. Ever since the moment I found out about her relationship with Evon, she kept trying to see my shock and frustration over and over. Luckily, I kept most of my emotions locked away these days...except, perhaps, my anger, which I was beginning to become a bit famous for.
"What?" I spat, eyes narrowing dangerously and only drawing more attention to myself. I hated everyone in this district, and the boy who was fooled by Calan – the one my heart is aching over – is not exempt from it.
But Calan only smiles innocently. Her blue eyes are a myriad of secrets – most of which aren't a secret to me. But she fools everyone into believing that she's always harassed by me, always the damsel in distress because of my biting words. I guess it isn't all that difficult to convince.
"I just wanted to wish you good luck," she murmurs, flashing her eyes into mine. Though her words convey a pretty message, the edge of her voice disgusts me. Am I the only one that can hear it? Her eyes give me another message from the one she speaks. It is a deadly sort of wish. She hopes I get Reaped, because she hates me. The dislike is mutual.
My lips curl upward into a sick smile that puts hers to shame. People already think I'm pure evil anyway. The way I act doesn't allow for much sympathy. So I take my time as I gaze at her.
He's staring at me when I respond. I only glance at him as I shift my eyes to my twin, but it is enough. It's enough to see the high arch of his cheekbones as they descend toward his full mouth; enough to notice how his dark hair glimmers a strange reddish color in the sunlight; enough to detect the look in his eyes – one I have seen many times before, when he tries to figure out what I'm thinking. I try to ignore his brooding gaze, nerves distraught as I keep myself together.
My words send flashes of fury through Calan – I can tell because I know her better than anyone – but I'm not afraid of her and she knows it, and remains powerless against me. Well...nearly powerless.
She runs a hand up his arm, drawing him closer as though trying to glean comfort from him. But I know what she's really doing, and it's a sick trick. My eyes dart into his, cutting through him with a look that I didn't mean to express. Betrayal and hurt, but for what, he doesn't know. He's dense when it comes to our friendship. He doesn't see the way I love him...but Calan does, and she's not above using it to her advantage.
I break away quickly, trying not to imagine the grin that I know Calan is now wearing. The rest of the walk to the town center is just as fast. I just want this day to be over, because I want to get out of this dress and go back into the woods. I want to get away from my mother and Calan and Evon and loose myself in the safe, easy stroke of the axes.
But I never achieve that, because after all the glamor of the Reaping is underwent, and the Anthem is sung and the names are drawn, the woods are far from my mind. When my name is drawn, I can see myself immediately on the screen.
I'm happy that my emotions are still in check. It's strange, actually. I don't feel much of anything. My heart gives a few hard pounds as the anticipating settles into acceptance, and my legs force the rest of me forward. I take the steps at an oddly lazy pace. It's as if I don't care about my life at all. Sickly, I wonder if, somewhere in the back of my mind, I ever really did.
A/N: Kayo here! I just wanted to introduce my newest story. It's my first time writing a Hunger Games fanfic, and I noticed how different it is from everyone else's, which is sorta the reason I posted it. This isn't a contest-story, like so many other HG fics. I wanted to give the HG my own spin, with my own character and plot. Like the original story, this is going to be fast-paced and hopefully just as adventurous. :3 Hope you enjoy!
