(A/N: Hello, thank you for taking time to check out my Hunger Games Story. I recently finished the first book of the series, watched the movies and everything so I do apologise if any information is slightly off, but I have tried to make it as accurate as possible! I hope you enjoy the first chapter and be sure to leave a review at the end to tell me how I did! Thank you!)
I don't know what came over me. I couldn't identify it as a singular emotion…in fact it just felt blurry. Like when you get pins and needles and that weird tingly sensation runs through whatever part of your body fell asleep, except for me it was in my head. Not my hand or my foot. Although they felt pretty numb themselves, so numb I didn't seem to have control over them. That was until two firm grasps pulled at my forearms, that touch was what made me come back to the reality which was The Reaping for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. I probably shouldn't have as it could have been seen as a threatening gesture, but I tugged my arms out of the Peacekeeper's grip and nodded slightly in one's direction. The cameras were on me as soon as the recognisable voice of the bright and bubbly Effie Trinket called out my name, and that was it; There was nowhere I could hide. I found my footing and began to take those dreaded steps towards the stage, chest slightly pushed out and head held high. If I tried to shrink into myself – which my instincts were screaming at me to do – I would be seen as weak by not only my own District, but also all others. I didn't want the confirmed and future tributes to note me down as the exposed and easy target I truly felt like on the inside. So I took deep breaths to steady the alarm in my mind and made my way through the sea of people, two Peacekeepers in front and another two following in pursuit. I couldn't help but stare at Effie as I approached, I'd seen her before from the others year's Reaping, but I didn't think her outfits could get anymore extravagant. Orange was her primary choice for this costume; It started off as a simple marmalade coloured dress that frilled out quite a bit until it ended in a straight cut at her pale knees, but it was the arm decorations that showed it was made just for her. Layers of orange lily petals dotted with a light brown fluttered slightly in the breeze as they clung to her arms. She went with her large wig (which I could have sworn she wore last year) but this time it was tinted a sweet pastel orange. Of course her makeup matched and it was her carrot coloured lips that spoke the first set of congratulations I'd heard.
"Congratulations to Morgan Ashwood! Female Tribute in the 74th Annual Hunger Games, for District 7!" She clapped with excitement before lowering the small strip of paper which sealed my fate onto the podium.
I stared out into the gathered crowd and noticed only a handful of people had their eyes cast towards me, most at Effie as she dipped her hand into the bowl of potential Male Tributes. But the rest of the crowd were mumbling about the woman seated behind Effie and I. Johanna Mason, District 7's winner from the 71st Hunger Games. I had seen her when I was in place of those staring before my name had been called, but I never thought I would be this close to a winner…a survivor. I don't know if I was looking out to the crowd in search of comfort or for another purpose, but if it was for comfort I sure wasn't going to get any. I hardly knew anyone in my District despite living here for 17 years. I wasn't someone who enjoyed much social interaction; even in school I kept to myself. But I was kicking myself for having such an introvert behaviour, this would probably have an effect on the number of Sponsors I could get in the Games. But I was drawn away from the thought when I noticed the unlucky boy was making his way up. He didn't come across as intimidating as past tributes, but he sure didn't look weak. Hardly anyone in District 7 lacked muscle since we were taught from the moment we showed signs we could learn, how to use an axe. We're the District of the lumber industry; once you've had enough experience, using cutting tools becomes second nature. He extended his hand towards me, and I placed my palm into his before we lifted our hands high above our heads.
"Congratulations to Memphis Griffith! Male Tribute in the 74th Annual Hunger Games, for District 7! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour!" Effie's voice rang out again.
Clapping took over the crowd, and I wanted to smile to show that this confidence wasn't an act. That I was actually proud to have been chosen and that I would do my district proud, but I only just managed a half smile. With my hand still held high I took a few seconds to glance into visible camera lenses and wave humbly with my right hand. Suddenly my District partner and I were hurried by Effie through the double doors located behind, which were quickly shut to secure the outsiders from the Justice Building.
The glamorous escort turned to tell us how splendid we had done and informed us of what was going to happen next. Apparently there was now an hour where people we know from our District may come visit us for a short time each, give us a few words of encouragement, shed any tears and anything else appropriate at this time. I was taken to my own private room and left to explore my surroundings alone. The room sure was something special. Not a speck of dust dared to stain the delicate deep blue fabric which makes up the chair I set myself in. As much as I want to relax, I don't seem to allow myself. But instead of focusing on my nerves I take a longer look around the room. To me the walls look slightly grey but that's due to the limited light getting through the small window to my right, helping the blue of the chair achieve the coldness that built up the room. To be honest I wasn't expecting any visitors and I thought the Capitol would know that considering they remind everyone that they know and see everything. Secretly I wasn't afraid of the Capitol. To hell with them and all the destruction and fear they've brought to Panem, how they've built the Career Districts up and left the others to eat the dust from their overpriced polished boots.
"The Career Districts," I scoff. "I wonder what their Tributes will be like this year," I mutter quietly, suspicious that hidden cameras are recording every sound and movement.
The reason I wasn't expecting any visitors was the same reason I didn't get any comfort from looking out to the crowd earlier. I hardly knew anyone. For the first few years of my life I did live with my Father, my Mother sadly died shortly after I was born. My Father never told me the details, apparently just some complications during the birthing process. Whenever I asked more about it, my Father would always sigh and say 'I think it's time you went a did some more work. We'll talk about it another time Morgan'. Another time never came. When I became old enough to understand everything that had gone on in the past, everything that resulted in The Hunger Games being created, I came to despise the Capitol and the Games. So much that it scared my Father how much I ranted about them, he thought that if I were heard by someone of importance that I might be the cause of our deaths. Then last year, one day when I was on my way back from work, I came home to an unusually empty house. I'd searched until curfew: the house and what I could of the District, but my Father was as introverted as I was. Most people I asked on the street didn't even recognise his name. But that was the end of that. I gave up eventually, but I wish I knew where or at least why he went. Had the Capitol heard about my complaining and taken my Dad as a warning? Had he said something that resulted in him disappearing? Or did he just simply leave, having had enough of his daughter who worked her ass off most days to bring back whatever money she could to feed them both? Whatever it was didn't matter anymore. I knew how to take care of myself, spent my money wisely and managed to keep myself going this past year. Now here I was. My head shot up when the door began to slowly open and in stepped the last person I expected to see, Johanna Mason herself. She shut the door securely behind her before looking back at me, scanning her eyes up and down my body, making me feel a tad uncomfortable.
"So, you're the female Tribute for District 7 this year. Gotta say, you're in better shape than last years. Not only did she cry when selected, she cried buckets every day up until the event…probably why she died so early on. Cried all the information I fed her out," Johanna casually took a seat in the matching chair adjacent to me.
I honestly didn't know what to say, I didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment. No disrespect to Mason of course.
"Anyway, I just wanted to come in and say hi since I'll be your new mentor for the Games. And don't worry, follow everything I say and take in every tip I tell you, and I'm sure you'll get through the games with very few injuries," The woman told me.
I simply nodded, swallowing the lump that had caught in my throat. I was just about to ask a question before a knock at the door interrupted me. Orange hair came through the crack in the door first, instantly giving away who it was.
Effie tiptoed in with a wide smile plastered on her face, one of sympathy towards the lone Tribute who would possibly meet her end soon and had no one from home that would miss her.
"Morgan, darling! I thought I would just…check up and let you know that we'll be going shortly," She announced, reluctant to let her cheery attitude fade.
I nodded and stood, flattening down the pale green dress I'd chosen for today's events. My loose black hair fell neatly onto my shoulders and over my chest and I looked into Effie's blue sparkling eyes with my own empty brown. I turned towards Johanna who had also risen and gave a smile displaying confidence and hope. Pushing the door open wider, Effie allowed two Peacekeepers to trudge in and escort me back outside where I was joined by Memphis. As soon as we entered the car it took off, clearly desperate to be on time. The whole journey was spent with me keeping my eyes focused on everything out the window. However out of the corner of my eye I'd see Memphis every so often open his mouth as if to speak, but close it quickly. I wasn't interested in making friends. I wasn't before the Games and the fact I could die wasn't going to change that. What was the point anyway? 23 people were destined for death, and even though I didn't have much to go back to in District 7, I was determined to make sure I was the Tribute to live. Making friends would make my job of surviving harder. The journey wasn't long and before I knew it my door was being opened and I was being gently encouraged out. I quickly noticed the large groups of reporters yelling questions out, and I was debating with myself about if I should respond or just smile. If I were a bit more social I might leave a better impression on those watching. Eh, can't hurt that much to listen to a few questions. I caught a glance of Memphis and Effie who were already gathered in between the open doors of our next mode of transport. For once Effie wasn't wearing her toothy grin and was instead raising an eyebrow at me, making it clear she expected me to follow behind her like a dog. I know that every past Tribute always followed the routine of getting out the car and heading straight for the train to stand there like statues and smile like idiots for a few minutes. But my hatred towards the Capitol had only gotten worse, if I could get away with a little rebellion, I would. I pointed to a reporter and put on my fake half smile as him and his camera edged closer.
"Miss Ashwood! District 7 had only had 7 Victors out of the past 73 Hunger Games, are you going to make it 8?!" He practically yelled out, each word followed by drops of spit which successfully landed on my face.
"I plan to do my District and myself proud," Was all I replied.
There was no telling if I was going to win, I could be as confident as I wanted to now on TV, but if I were too cocky and the other Tributes saw I could only imagine the smirks that would cross their lips as they made me top of their list. Show up the cocky ones and make yourself look bigger and tougher. Before he could splurt out a complaint about my short answer I took a few more steps towards the train before stopping at another begging man with a desperate need for answers.
"Morgan! Morgan! Being from District 7, you must be good with an axe, is that what you're going to use in the Game?"
I started to turn away letting out a short laughter, thinking it would be best to leave that one unanswered. But this man didn't want to leave without at least one answer.
"Is it true no one came in to visit you earlier and that your Father left you alone just last year?!" He cried out over the other voices.
Instantly my head snapped towards him, smile dropped and eyes burning with fury but the rest of my face hiding that emotion. 'How the fuck did they know such personal information like that?' I thought to myself. Everything was going blurry as all the lights and cameras were becoming too much and I was trying to wrap my head around the question. I balled my fists and I tried to remind myself that I was on TV. The tension in my forehead released and instead of letting out that boiling rage, I just fiddled with my dress before replying.
"You shouldn't go sticking your nose in other people's private business you know. Don't be surprised if I come out of that arena, ready to kick your ass," I quickly take off towards Effie and Memphis before sliding between the two, and into the train away from all the commotion. Memphis turned his head to look back at me with confusion and let out a short sigh as he too was brought inside the train, allowing the door to be the barrier between the reporters and those on their way to the Capitol. In an instant Effie had left Memphis' side and carefully stepped towards me, careful not to tumble in her heels, before placing a delicate hand on my shoulder.
"This is why we expect you to follow us and smile, reporters just don't seem to care about other people's emotions nowadays!" She giggled in an attempt to lighten the clear aura of frustration that was radiating off me.
Memphis shortly joined and decided this would be a good time to talk to me. He pushed a hand through his brown hair before letting it swing at his side.
"Just ignore them, It's their job after all to try and get whatever they can about us out to the public. They like a good story,"
I raised my eyes to look at him, not just in a quick peek way, but in a stare into your eyes trying to read exactly what you're doing way. During this time, I noticed that he had soft blue eyes that were searching for an answer of agreement from me. I was surprised I'd never noticed this boy before back home, there was nothing to say we'd crossed paths before so maybe this was a first. He had the toned arms of a hardworking lumberjack, one of the main jobs back in our District. But if this was the case 1) I probably didn't cross his path anytime, and 2) He was trained as much as I was with an axe and was strong. He could be a threat in the arena if someone else doesn't take him out first. I myself am good with an axe and in more ways than using it for cutting down trees. If I ever got bored and had one on hand, I'd usually cure my boredom with some target practise in the forest. No one really payed much attention to me doing this since they couldn't blame me; everyone my age needed to be somewhat prepared. My only hope was that in the arena their axes would be slightly smaller as it would make them easier to throw and a little bit faster in flight. My reflexes aren't bad either, maybe I could put those to good use with a little training. I exchanged glances with both Effie and Memphis.
"Do I get a room on this train?" I questioned, my voice slightly calmer and my body less fidgety.
Effie nodded enthusiastically as she ushered an Avox over to us.
"Show Morgan to her chambers," She instructed before turning to attend to other business seeing I was being taken care of.
The Avox gave a slight bow and gestured for me to follow, leaving Memphis behind to watch me walk away. He had a feeling that these next few weeks weren't going to go so smoothly, but decided to not let that feeling get to him. Instead he took off on his own journey, looking to find his quarters.
It didn't take long to arrive and the door to my private room slid open, allowing me to enter. Without turning around, I spoke out.
"You can leave now, I don't need any more assistance…thank you," I directed to the patiently waiting Avox behind.
Hearing the shuffling of their clothing indicated to me that they had left me in the peace of my own company. I let out a long needed breath and collapsed on the bed situated against the back wall. Shortly after I did this, I felt the jolt of the train as it began to depart from District 7's station. Once the train ran smoothly along the tracks without any bumps, I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling in darkness and sadness. 'Why me?' I think to myself. It's not like I had much to live for. All I did was eat, sleep and work…but maybe that routine was enough for me to keep going. I was lucky to be born in District 7. I've heard stories of how other Districts such as 12 struggle to even feed themselves. I've never seen proof since leaving your District isn't allowed and if the stories were true, the Capitol wouldn't televise it. I'd only seen the glory of the Career Districts on screen. The lap dogs of the Capitol, showered in whatever they were given. I can't imagine how hard it must be for some of the other Districts, the fear that ran through me when my name was called must be the fear that runs through them each day. I know I shouldn't be feeling sorry for myself, there are 23 other people in the same position as me, some prepared more than myself and others not. I'm not the first one to be here, there have been 73 past Games for crying out loud! I shake my head against the soft covers below me to shake my negative thoughts and rise to sit. Noticing a set of draws to my left, I climb up and examine their contents. Clothes, a little fancier than the ones back home. I pluck a simple blue shirt and black leggings from the selection and drape them over my arm. I instantly assume the door beside the dresser leads to (what I hope is) a bathroom. The one thing that actually makes me truly smile today is the sight of the shower. Quickly I hop into the fresh room and close the door, ready to strip down from my Reaping clothes and wash all the worry and self-pity away with hot water.
(A/N: Chapter 1 finished! Thank you for reading, hope you liked it and be sure to tell me if you did in the reviews!)