Chapter 1: Knowing
Welcome to the 75th Hunger Games with your guide... Johanna Mason!
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, Suzanne Collins does, but I'm sure you've heard this all before
"On the seventy-fifth anniversary as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the Capitol, the male and female will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."
I heard the news blaring loudly from the sitting room. I can't say it surprised me at all. At all. But I guess that might be because I was already told. I sit down calmly to eat the large chunk of pie I had cut myself as President Snow finishes his long speech on how this year's games will be "interesting."
The program finishes and the TV snaps to a shot where some reporter with wild, peachy hair is standing on the streets of the Capitol along with several hundred other people celebrating the Quarter Quell.
The Capitol, enjoying people's deaths. I stop eating. How can they live like that? Just watching us dying? Just because they were born into a Capitol family, rich for life. Hurling the plate containing the leftover pie at the wall, I stomp out, leaving the floor covered with speckles of pastry and china.
I can hear my maid Meggy scurrying around downstairs, trying to clear up the mess I left.
It's not the killing people I hate, not that I like killing people, but it's the thought that the dying persons family is out there, willing them to live, watching them die, and hating their killer, which is sometimes me.
A soft bleeping from my desk interrupts my mental blabber. I rush over to receive a coded email signed Plutarch, in code of course.
I wrote the words I translated down on a scrap of paper. It read:
Johanna
As you know, the arena has been decided to be a clock, but I can now inform you that it will be in a warm climate. The inner ring is to be an island, the middle ring being the water and the outer ring will be a jungle.
I will send you more information as I receive it.
Plutarch
As soon as I finished reading it I tore it up and threw the remains into the fire. If the Capitol finds out that I know about the arena, I will be instantly captured and killed, slowly. The others Plutarch contacted will be in a worse condition. They have people they love at stake.
I watch as the paper crackles and curls in the flames as I wonder what the other to-be tributes are thinking.
About the Games, probably.
Well, what do you think?
Please review- please? Say hi to my sister Sophie