Chapter 1: The Reaping
Hey, everyone. Ok, so this is my first Fanfiction story. I hope you all like it. Oh, and I don't own the Hunger Games even though I really, really want to. I am so excited for the movie, too! Well, since you probably actually want to read the story, here it goes...
I stood there in silence as I heard Prim's name being called, and I knew that there was no way that Katniss would ever let her little sister go into the games. I was right. Not even a second after Prim's name was called, Katniss was screaming at the top of her lungs, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"
Part of me wished that she hadn't volunteered, but the other part knew that she had to. Why? Why was Katniss being forced to go into a bloodthirsty game? The answer is simple: The Capital.
It seems as if every bad thing that has ever happened to me has sprung from that cruel place. My father's death, my hunger, and most importantly, the Hunger Games. What are the hunger games, you ask? The hunger games are a required 'form of entertainment' or at least that's what the capital calls them. For anyone who's not fooled by capital propaganda, it is a way to show the districts who's in control and keep the districts from rebelling.
My attention was then drawn back to the reaping, and I heard a boy's name being called: Peeta Mellark. I briefly considered volunteering for him because I thought Katniss could use me as an ally, but I knew she didn't really need me. Plus she would never forgive me if I didn't stay here to take care of her family while she was gone.
Soon it was time for visitors. I realized that the square was almost clear of people. I must have gotten lost in my thoughts. The Justice building was only a short walk away, so I got there relatively quickly.
Apparently, there was already someone in her room, so I needed to wait outside. When the door opened, I was surprised to see Madge, the mayor's daughter, walk out. I didn't talk to her often because I lived in the Seam, and she was the mayor's daughter, so I was really shocked that Katniss knew her. I guess I shouldn't be surprised because they were in the same grade, and we didn't see each other much during school.
I walked into Katniss's room, thinking about what I would tell her. I decided to tell a good strategy.
"Listen," I said, "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."
"They don't always have bows," she said.
I could hear the uncertainty in her voice and maybe even a bit of fear, but who could blame her? She was being given a terrible ultimatum: kill or die. I knew that the second option was impossible, at least in my eyes. Katniss was the strongest person I knew. She would win; I was sure.
"Then make one. Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all." I knew that she was not nearly as good as making bows as her father, buy she wasn't terrible. At least the bow could shoot an arrow.
"I don't even know if there'll be any wood."
I remembered the sixty-third Hunger Games, the year that all of the tributes were tossed into a frozen tundra. Half of the tributes froze to death because of the inability to make fire. Then, I tried to think of the games that followed. There was always wood because there was no way the Gamemakers wanted a repeat of those games.
"There's almost always some wood. Since that year half of them died from cold. Not much entertainment in that," I tell her.
"Yes," she says, "there's usually some."
"Katniss," I said, fully aware of the brutal truth, "it's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know." I know it sounded harsh, but that's the only mindset you can survive within the games.
"It's not just hunting," she argued, "They're armed. They think."
"So do you," I counter, "And you've had more practice. Real practice. You've killed."
"Not people!"
"How different can it be, really?"
I have never actually killed a person, but I've killed many animals. It's not like it was for sport. It was to survive. Let's face it, I needed to kill those animals to survive, and if I spend time mourning the animals and gave up hunting, I would surly starve along with my family. It's the same way for Katniss in these games. It's kill or be killed.
Soon, the peacekeepers enter, and I ask for a couple more minutes with Katniss. They refuse, and I start to be dragged out.
"Don't let them starve!" Katniss screams.
"I won't! You know I won't!" I yell back. As my final words, I try to offer words of encouragement, but the Peacekeepers are starting to close the door, so I yell, "Katniss, remember I-" I was cut off by the slamming of the door, but I finish the sentence anyway. "I will be waiting for you when you come home."
I knew that was the last time I would see Katniss for a while, if not forever.
Ok, hope you guys like chapter 1 of my first story. Please, please, please review. I really want to know what you think.