Hey there, all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I hope you enjoy.
I apologize for any typos.
A few days away, two children from each of the twelve districts will be chosen to fight in this years Annual Hunger Games. Children from the age of twelve to eighteen are eligible to participate. This is considered a high honor to participate.
"High honor indeed." My mother scoffed, turning back to my brother, "You listen here, these games are for the Capitols entertainment."
"Mom! The Peacekeepers are out more often now that the reaping is almost here. Please, for your son if not me, be quiet." I told her, shaking at the thought of the punishment they'd give us for insulting the Capitol.
My family isn't from this District, but I have yet to know which one we came from. My mother keeps the secret in her mind. As for now, we're in District 11. A rare occurrence these next few days will be. Normally the Peacekeepers hover as we work the orchards, but for the Hunger Games... Everything goes on pause. So, we stay in our little hut houses until the Reaping bell rings throughout the District. I look around the kitchen, or dining room depending on how you look at it, and realize that this may be the last time I see it before the Games begin.
I tune back in to my mothers rant about how they won't let us work for "the blasted games" as she calls them. I turn my head as I hear a slight chirp, then a flurry of feathers appears on our windowsill. I glance at my brother, raise my hand to silence my mother, then motion towards the bird.
"It's a mockingjay." My mother whispered. We all stiffened as the bird opened its beak and whistled a quartet of notes then flew off into the sky. "Well, you two, off to bed. We have to prepare for tomorrow. Have to look nice for the reaping now don't we?" She mutters, barely maintaining a smile on her face.
I look up to see a boy with blonde hair running at me a spear raised in his hand. I close my eyes, fearing death. After only a split second that I closed my eyes, I hear the blood curling scream of someone behind me. Ripping open my eyes, I find that the blonde boy has let his spear fly into a girl behind me. When I turn back to him, I see that he is on the ground with an arrow through his heart and a smile on his face. I scream in horror as I behold the face of the killer. I am now the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games.
I jerk awake from my latest nightmare to behold my brother staring at me eyes wide in fear.
"Hey, what's wrong Cohl?" I asked pulling him to my side, putting an arm around him.
"Maggie, you were screaming in your sleep." He said, shaking like a dry leaf in the wind.
"Hey, it'll be fine okay? I'll be fine. I promise. Don't worry okay?" I murmured rubbing his back.
"Okay Maggie, but promise me that we'll be safe. Promise me that you will stay alive if you're picked." He said, tilting his head to look me in the eyes.
"Okay, yeah. We'll be fine Cohl. I promise." I flinch as I realize that today is the beginning of the Hunger Games. The Reaping begins today. I am overcome with grief at the thought of all the boys and girls who are condemned to their death in the matter of hours. In an hour, I have dressed myself and my brother for proper reaping attire, formal clothing, so ironic. We start toward the central part of the District when the horn blares the arrival of the Capitol Guide of District Eleven, and the beginning of the Reaping.
We reach the central part of the city to check in with the officials and stand in our designated areas. As we all look up, a woman appears dressed in all green. A bright green skirt, which reaches to her knees, clings to her body like silk, she compliments this with a bright floral green shirt. Her hair the color of grass in the midsummer heat, make-up plastered on with no restraint.
"Hello, and welcome to the 74th Annual Games!" She says smiling, the whole of District Eleven mute before her. "Yes, well. Let's start shall we?" she says moving to a glass bowl filled with paper. Each of these slips of paper has the name of a child. Every paper has one name; every child has their name in at least once, others more.
"Let's do ladies first." she says, reaching her hand into the bowl doing a slight twist of her wrist. Extracting her hand from the slips, she proceeds to walk back to the mic in the middle of the stage. Reaching the mic she raises her hands, opens the paper and announces the name written.
"Maggie Cawl!" I inhale a sharp breath as the crowd parts around me, granting me an easy path to the stage. As I near it the lady beckons to me with a smile, I grimace in return without taking my eyes off the slip of paper in her hand. I'm moved to the left of the stage while she proceeds back to the mic to say, "Now gentleman."
She struts to the bowl as if there will be a great prize in it, then plunges her hand in the layers of paper withdrawing it a second later. Without warning, she giggles as she opens the paper. A smile spreads across her face as she announces the Male Tribute for our district.
"Cohl Cawl!" The crowd parts as my brother starts to walk for the stage.
"No!" I yell, forcing myself past a guard only to be held back from jumping off the stage to protect my brother by two others. I thrash and scream as my kid brother takes the first step to his demise when a black-haired boy runs forward.
"I volunteer!" He threw his arms out and pulled Cohl back towards the other groups. The boy walked onstage and turned towards the woman in green. "I volunteer as tribute for him." He says this, a small frown escaping his otherwise expressionless face. I quiet down as I realize my brother will be safe.
"Yes, well this is a change of events. What's your name?" she says, a similar frown on her face.
"Brandon Farlan." He replies to her, slightly lowering his head. He moves to my side and looks at me raising an eyebrow. I nod in return, silently thanking him.
"Everyone congratulate the 74th Annual Hunger Games District Eleven Tributes!" she says, a smile lighting up her face only to fade when, first one, then another person kissed their three middle fingers and raised them in a salute. This is an old lost gesture rarely practiced, it means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.
The next thing I know, I'm surrounded by blue in a fancier room of our Justice Building. There is a grandfather clock tolling in the far corner across the room. I'm in a chair against the wall with a window covering the entire wall. I turn as I hear people walking to my door. I'm surprised when not only Cohl comes in, but my mother accompanies him. I run to embrace Cohl and my mother, murmuring soft assurances as I hold them both.
"Maggie, you have to win. I need you to win for me sis!" said Cohl blinking back tears.
"I promise Cohl. I will try to win." I mutter, trying hard not to think about the improbability of me winning these forsaken games. "Mom, you have to take care of him and make sure you don't push to hard. Okay?" I say to her my voice like lead.
"Okay Maggie, but you have to uphold your promise now. To the both of us." She says shaking her head and hugging us closer.
"Okay mom, I will. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself in there." I say assuring them that I'll be fine.
The Peacekeepers come back in and take them away while I wait for the announcing of my own departure. Not five minutes later and I'm being lead down a hall where I meet Brandon half way down towards the lady in green, standing in front of a train door.
"Hello, Hello! My name is Cynthia Bangle, and I'll be your guide throughout your stay in the Capitol." She says, grinning and leading us in the door, which closes a few seconds after our feet have passed through to the interior. She leads us down the hall of the train pointing at the multitude of doors, explaining what each door lead to. As we enter what seems like the hundredth door, I gasp aloud at what is gathered here. There are piles of food on every inch of the table in the center of this room. Every food you could imagine and more yet is gathered here in this one room. In the back of my mind, I register that Cynthia is giggling like a hyena in the background at the looks upon our faces. I move forward and load my plate with every item of food I can get my hands on.
"That's right, stuff up now whelps. You'll need it if you're going to survive in the Games". I glance up from my full plate and flinch when I realize who was talking. The only Victor of District Eleven, John Fang.
Being a Victor, you'd think he did something skillful to win. This was not the case with John Fang. He won not by Skill but by Tact. From the beginning of his Games he allied with the strongest alliance, the Careers. By his alliance he was able to eliminate most all threats by the final 4. In the final fight, his last teammates fell to the ground dead and he was next. He started to run from the other tribute only to realize that was fruitless. Realizing what he had to do he turned around and yelled, actually yelled, in the others face. Successfully stunned John took the chance and snapped the others neck before he could recover.
"Now listen, I'm not here to baby you tributes. I'm here to teach you how to survive. If you don't get anything else from this, at least get this: You will most likely die. Only you can prevent this from happening." With his speech done he grabbed a basket of break and a bottle of wine then turned down a hall, disappearing from view.
"Well," said the always cheerful Cynthia, "That children is-"
"We aren't children. We've been forced to grow up in a matter of hours. I'd appreciate it if you did us here a favor, and shut that pretty green mouth of yours." I drop my fork as the last word is uttered from Brandon's mouth. Cynthia's mask finally falls as a sneer shows on her face before she storms out of the room, puffing her chest like an angry bird.
"Why in the hell would you say that to her?!" I practically scream, trying to grasp what just occurred.
"I'm sick of being civil. The Capitol wants entertainment? I'll give them a show they'll never soon forget." He muttered moving to the door which John departed. "Oh, and don't expect me to play nice with you either. Just because we're from the same district doesn't mean I have to be pleasant to you." With that said, he left the room, leaving me to my own thoughts.
Glancing down at my food, I grimace almost in pain at the feelings coursing through me. I give in to one of them when I grab a plate and shatter it against the nearest wall. I move to the window after my brief episode and gaze out at the landscapes flashing by, almost as if they were so many birds escaping the grasp of the blood-lusting hunter. Repulsed by the comparison, I return to where I threw the plate and pick them up piece by piece, placing them in a trash bin.
I leave the dining room searching for a room compartment for me to stay for the night when I chanced upon a smaller than usual bedroom. A bed covers the entire wall facing the door while a glass projection pane encompasses the left side of them room. I glance to the right of me and spot a bathroom. I enter through the archway and stop mid stride to gawk at the shower. The multitude of buttons would take me the better part of an hour to use. Instead, I relieve myself and head to the bed deciding to forego that necessity until tomorrow. Reaching the bed, I pull my legs up to it and crawl to the middle curling in a ball holding my legs to my chest under the maroon covers.
"Rise and shine Sleeping Beauty!" Comes the morning call of our newly-found green mother hen.
I open my eyes at the intrusion of my sleep, only to flinch and grunt at the light forcing itself into my retinas. "Okay, I'm up! Now please leave and turn off the light. I'll be out there after I take a shower." I mumble, still half asleep, to the very green intruder to my rest.
"Fine, twenty minutes. Now go!" Cynthia said through tight lips, exiting the room.
I throw off my blankets and sit upright putting my head in my hands at the edge of my bed. Pulling myself up, I return to the bathroom pausing to glance at the control panel to the shower. Steeling myself, I push a few buttons and step in the shower. I stand there amazed for a few minutes at the pulsing on my back and shoulders. I grab a random shampoo and wash my hair then grab soap and wash my body concentrating on my dirtiest places.
I step out of the shower after rinsing to grab a towel and proceed to dry my body of all moisture. Preparing for the worst, I go to my newly adopted room and go through the dresser drawers. I find a pair of black skin tights and a white tank, then pull those on. I put my hair up in a ponytail then begin to head back to the dining room. Hearing the others I proceed through the doors only to pause mid-step, almost falling, to stare dumfounded at the collection of breakfast food arrayed around me.
"Goodmorning, Sleeping Beauty." I hear Cynthia murmur from her seat at the table.
I grunt in reply after collecting myself and grab a plate then proceed to pile it with food from each table. Once my plate has almost a single type of food from each table piled on top of one another, I take a seat at the dining table a seat away from Cynthia.
"So, what are we-"
"Let's wait till the boys get in dear. Don't want them to miss anything, do we?" She chirps with a smile plastered on her face.
I shrug at her interruption and dig in to the plate sitting in front of me. Sitting there with half a crescent hanging from my hand, I think about what I'm particularly skilled at. Doing work in the orchards has made my arms and back stronger than most but not nearly enough to lug around a mace. I have a small frame, but large enough for people to notice me so, I guess sneaking around isn't really going to go for me. All around I can't think of a skill that would be good for me other than having a knife nearby.