Thanks to everyone who likes this story! PLEASE comment and give me ideas for what I should do next! You can check out my other stories too! :)
6/2/12
Hello everybody! I'm separating this story into separate chapters right now, so please don't be sad for those of you who have read it that a lot of the content is gone. It will definitely be back soon, I promise! Please review! Special thanks to MiSSxMELON and WaffleManiac!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does, and she always will. Please remember my disclaimer for future chapters, she will still own THG.
1
Prim's small body manages to push me off the bed, startling me. But I'm so tired I don't even notice it. I manage to sleep for a couple more hours, but then my mother wakes me up.
"Time for the reaping." she says.
I groan and hide under the bed. I completely forgot today was the 74th Hunger Games. I pull out the blue frilly dress that Prim always wants me to wear. The dress is way too tight, but it doesn't hurt that bad. Prim comes out wearing my old red dress, that I wore to the school dance.
My mother sits on her bed, her eyes swollen and sad. She's had a tough time ever since our father died, working in the mines. I wonder if Gale is getting ready to go the reaping this early, like I am. I start cooking the bread that the Gale gave me yesterday, still fresh. The tasty aroma fills my nostrils, and I dig in.
I read the latest news from the Panem Times, and I say this lady with a bright colored wig and pink lipstick. "Effie Trinket will pick the tributes from District Twelve" it says. I sigh and pound the table with frustration. I HATE the Hunger Games. It's the Capitol's reminder to never form a rebellion against them ever again. We head out the door, and run into Gale.
"Prim!" I say. "Gale and I are going to head to the reaping. I'll see you there." I run away before my mother can object.
"Hi Catnip," Gale says. I blush, although we're just friends. We throw some rocks into the pond and stop to rest. The reaping for District 12 is 5 miles away, so we relax.
"Are you nervous?" I blurt out.
I want to slap my head right now for asking that question.
Gale laughs, surprising me.
"For what?" he says. "The Hunger Games!" I say.
"Yeah, everyone is. Why?" Gale looks at me funny.
"I don't know. I guess I'm just really scared if I get picked. I wonder how Prim is feeling right now."
I expect Gale to say something, but he just stares at the ground, watching the ripples in the water. We don't say anything for the next couple minutes, so I decide to continue on.
...
The reaping area is mostly packed by the time we get there. I see Prim, walking by herself. I quickly say bye to Gale and take Prim's hand.
"What an honor to be here!" squeals the woman, Effie up onstage. "Isn't it just lovely to see all of your faces and to be here today, picking the boy and girl to be in the Hunger Games?"
Suddenly, a man screams out, "No you dumb wig lady! Who in their right mind would LIKE to be in the Hunger Games! It's sick, and not to mention gory and bloody!"
A Peacekeeper shoots the man with an arrow that hits his chest. He falls to the ground, dead. The Peacekeeper drags him away, acting like the whole thing never happened. Prim stares at me, her eyes big.
"Anyway," Effie says. "Our girl tribute from district twelve is!" She reaches into the girls' basket, closes her eyes, and pulls out a piece of folded paper. She quickly unfolds it and reads the name. It's Primrose Everdeen.
I can hardly believe my eyes. Prim? How can it be her? She only put her name once! I put my name in 25 times, in exchange for food. Prim walks to the stage, accepting her "reward". I want to punch something, I am so annoyed.
"Prim!" I say. Two Peacekeepers block me; prevent me from going any further.
"I volunteer!" I say loudly, and everybody stares at me. "I volunteer as tribute!" The whole audience gasps; they haven't had a volunteer in years.
"How exciting!" Effie squeals. "Come up!" I slowly make my way to the stage, all eyes fixed deeply on me. "And our boy tribute from district twelve is Peeta Mallark!"
A tall, blond boy comes up to the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen, these are the tributes for district twelve!" Effie says. No one claps, obviously. I am completely dazed, and the next thing I know I'm being pushed into a car with Peeta Mallark. I seem to lose consciousness, after hitting my head on the window. When I wake up, I find myself in a dark blue room. I scream, but nothing comes out. Effie comes in.
"Hello Ms. Everdeen." she says. "Mr. Mallark is in the other room, with Cinna your fashion designer. Dinner?" I nod, but I am still confused. Is Prim and my mother okay? Is Gale okay? I bury myself into a pillow on the bed and immediately burst into tears. I'm going into the Hunger Games, and have to face all the other districts.
I rest for another ten minutes, until I'm being called. I head out to what I think is the dining room; I don't know where I am. Effie, and a guy I recognize sit at the table.
"Are you okay?" Effie says. "You seem to have blacked out so I put you in your room to rest."
"WHERE AM I?" I demand.
"You're in the district 12's Capitol Building." Says the man.
Then I snap my fingers. He's Haymitch, the winner of the 50th Hunger Games. He must be here to help me and that Mallark guy train. Effie leads my away, to a room. Peeta is in there.
"Hello." He says.
"Hi." I say. Effie walks away, leaving us two alone. I touch the red velvet carpet, amazed by its softness.
"Are you going to dinner?" He asks. I say yes, and leave the room. What more could I have said to him besides hi and yes? Haymitch is standing near my room.
"You will need to get up early to start your training." He says. "And don't worry, you're sister is fine."
I breathe a sigh and relief, and somehow end up hugging Haymitch. He hugs me back, but only for a short time.
"Remember, when you're in the arena, make sure to look out for your enemies." I nod and head out to the dinner table.
My mouth almost waters at the sight of the food. Hot, steamy chicken sits on people's plates, along with all sorts of types of fresh berries and vegetables. Buttered rolls sit in a basket, and glasses full with wine are there as well. Effie comes in, all bubbly and happy. My mind suddenly switches back to confusion.
"What's going on, and how did I end up here?" I ask.
"Oh, you volunteered for what I think is your sister, got thrown into the car with Peeta to go here, and know you are about to eat dinner." She replies.
"When am I going into the Hunger Games?" I say. "Not for another couple weeks." Says Effie instantly. "Dinner!" she yells. Haymitch, Peeta, and two people I don't recognize come to the table.
"This is Cinna, you're stylist." Effie says to me. Cinna gives a polite wave. He seems very shy to me, though.
"And Peeta this is your stylist, Portia." A woman with a bright, yellow hairdo smiles at us. We all sit down, and gobble down our foods. Peeta and I, especially, since we are all SO hungry. We exchange a few comments back and forth, when he sneaks me a bread roll under the table, since I am all out. I take it without hesitation, but I touch his hand, not the roll. I blush, and I feel the roll and take it.
He smiles at me. He seems to be nice.
But, he is a tribute.
A tribute a will try to kill me and win the Hunger Games.