Well this is my first fanfic ever! Keep in mind that English is not my own language ;)
Hope you like it!
A stray of light broke through the worn wood of my room. It's the first day in weeks that I woke up when the sun was shining. Normally I would be working in the forest by now but today there's nobody out there. On this 'special day' our district looks like an abandoned place full of neglected houses. But inside, families cry and pray for their children to come back. Because at the end of this day, two children will be gone with no certitude that they'll return. My parents don't really care about that at all. Well, they do care about my older brother. He turned eighteen a month ago so this was his last year as a contender. Jake Newell, black hair and blue eyes. Popular as hell in our district. A charming young man who hits on every girl, with success most of the time. In my opinion rather a player than a charmer. My parents never wanted two kids, I was an accident. They made it very clear that my brother was the star and that I would never surpass him. I tried many times to prove them wrong but how do you change the thoughts of someone who doesn't want to believe anything else? I used to have better results than him at school when we were younger, they said I cheated. I found a job that paid a lot more than his, they laughed at it. So I gave up and accepted that I will live in the shadow of my brother who'll forever live in a halo effect.
"Elena! Don't forget to wear the red dress I showed you yesterday!" My mother's voice broke through my thoughts and before I could answer the door opened. "Mom said that-"
"I heard her." Jake wore a classic suit that belonged to my father. "Hurry up, we're leaving in ten minutes." I nodded and crawled out of my bed. My house wasn't big, but it was enough. On hands and knees I found the bathroom and started dressing up. We couldn't afford beautiful substances so the dress that mom had laid out for me wasn't that comfortable. At least it didn't look that way. It was a classic red dress with no ruffles and sleeves, a typical dress for this district. People who lived in the capitol had a completely different style, it was funny to watch how they tried to look like they're not humans but in another way it was pretty sad. When they watch themselves in a mirror, are they happy? Are they proud? I guess I'll never know.
The dress didn't look that bad on me. My slightly curly brown hair fell over my shoulders and made my green eyes look good. Still I felt hideous. Isn't it a shame that children have to make themselves look beautiful before they die? Isn't it a shame that they'll be forgotten when they don't make it back? People watch from beginning to end, smile when their favorite kills somebody and cry when a tribute dies. Like they even care about them. Year after year two people disappear and here in district 7 they don't return often. I'm sure they try –I would- but we're never skilled enough to win. You only get three days of training, three days to master a skill. To find a way how to kill everybody. Tell me, how do you turn children into murder weapons? Only the careers from district 1,2 and 4 smile when they killed someone. It's outrageous.
I practically ran the whole way to the town hall because I was a little late. My family didn't wait, not that I thought they would. They wouldn't even care if something happened to me while I was alone. I think they would be happy. My feet hurt with every step thanks to the heels that matched the dress but what other choice did I have? None. If I wouldn't wear them it would only cost me another screaming fight with my mother. We don't want that do we? "You all should be proud of what the Capitol does for you!" The high-pitched voice of Thessalia echoed across the square. Seems like I made it in time. "Now let's see who will represent their district in the sixty-second annual Hunger Games." With a smile that looked to happy she stared at the blank eyes of the crowd. "Ladies first!" She took her white glove off and her green tinted hand entered the large bowl who was filled with white cards. On twenty-seven of them stood the name 'Elena Newell'. My family was neither rich or poor but when they didn't have enough money, I was the one who needed to trade food for a participation. Her fingers finally pulled a card out. At this moment it was decided who would participate in the cruel Games. At this moment it was decided who had to fight to return to their old life. Of course they never get their old life back. If you make it, you need to live with the horrible pictures you gained. You need to live with the haunting faces of the people you killed. My eyes were searching for Juna. My best, and only, friend. And I found her, standing in the middle of the mass in a plain black dress but I didn't feel relieved that my eyes were looking into hers. Because Thessalia announced the female tribute of the sixty-second annual Hunger Games. And it wasn't Juna Cornwald.
It was Elena Newell.