AN: Because I wanted to give a Hunger Games fic a go! :) Hope you like it, please R&R!
My breath hitched in my lungs. It was almost painful the way the it stuck there, unable to be moved in either direction. Not allowing any air in, but refusing to leave. Everything seemed to stop, my brain was grinding to a halt. I couldn't move, or think, or do anything really except gawk. It wasn't even my name that had been called across the quiet crowd. No, it wasn't mine, but it may as well have been. It should have been.
Suddenly my eyes were sweeping the edges of the crowd. Searching for someone, someone who would share my reaction. I found the mop of brunette hair that I knew so well, and knew his face must have mirrored mine. No, I was wrong. His face was worse than mine. He was completely rigid, his jaw locked tight, so tight I could almost hear his teeth grinding together. The colour had drained from his face, and I wondered for a millisecond if I was as pale. It was his eyes, however, that spurred my next decision. The normally bright, warm brown eyes were hollow. The life seemed to have drained from them, and it was replaced by a crippling despair. It was this despair that made up my mind.
My feet were carrying my through the crowd of seventeen year olds. I knew that heads were turning my way as I worked my way forward. Someone reached out, their hand holding my shoulder, but I shrugged them off. I had made it to the walk way, and as I walked towards the stage I spoke in a voice so quiet and eerie I was surprised it came from my mouth. "I volunteer." There was a ripple effect. Heads turned towards me, eyes watched me as I walked forward. The air seemed still, and as I felt the pressure of the silence threatening to make me turn around I stole myself. Made my feet move faster, with more purpose. I held my head higher, and called loudly, in a much more determined voice. "I volunteer."
Marie York, the escort for our district, finally noticed me. Her soft face showed a trace of surprise, but it was quickly restored back to her dreamy smile. "We have a volunteer, ladies and gentlemen," she announced happily, waving her hand daintily in my direction. "Please, come up on the stage, dear," she spoke directly to me.
Numbly, I marched to the side of the stage. As I reached the bottom step, the girl who had been on the stage already descended upon me. She was no taller than me, but the strength in her arms as she wrapped them around me was surprising. She held me in a crushing hug, and whispered in an urgent voice, "why, Flick?" I shook my head, pushing her away. I could feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as I looked into her bright green ones. They were identical to my own.
"Come on, Jaki," a deep voice said from behind me. It was the boy I had looked to in the crowd. He wrapped his arm around Jaki's shoulders and pulled her away, giving me a small, but comforting, pat on the back as he lead her away.
I could hear Jaki's dry sobs as I climbed the stairs. They echoed in my head as I walked across the stage, into Marie's grasp. Marie was short, only as tall as I was, even with her high heeled shoes on. She placed one of her hands on my shoulder, her long, midnight blue nails contrasting against my sunny, yellow dress. "Hello dear, please, tell us all your name," Marie smiled sweetly at me. As much as I wanted to, I could never hate Marie. She might be from the Capitol, but she always had this sweet, kind of dazed attitude towards tributes. She was pretty mild, by Capitol standards.
"Felicity Belle," I replied, my voice cracking ever so slightly on my surname.
Marie's smile seemed to falter. "So, you're volunteering for your sister?" she asked me, her smile back in place, though I could see it didn't reach her clear, blue eyes. I nodded, unable to form the words to speak. Marie gave my shoulder a squeeze, and shot me a sympathetic look. "That's a very noble sentiment," she complimented me. "Isn't she brave?" Marie addressed the crowd. There was a murmur of agreement, although I could tell many of them disagreed with my actions. "Well, back to business," Marie smiled, her hand leaving my shoulder as she waltzed across the stage. "Let's select our male tribute," she smiled, placing her hand in the glass bowl, her slender fingers snatching out a piece of paper. I felt tears on my cheeks as she unfolded the paper. "Shea Finn," she announced, looking out at the crowd for him.
Shea was a rather stocky eighteen year old. His jaw was clenched as he climbed the steps to the stage. He approached me, and his sea blue eyes, which normally danced with laughter, sought out my own green ones. His hand extended, and I placed my much smaller hand in his, shaking his hand. If I thought Marie was short next to me, I must look like a joke shaking hands with Shea Finn. He was tall and strong, and I was short and petite. I had seen Shea use an axe before, I could hardly use an axe. It struck me then, as we were ushered into the Justice building, that I wouldn't be coming home. Shea would be lucky to come home again.
In the Justice building I was ushered into a small room. I didn't have much opportunity to inspect my surroundings, however, as my family scrambled in. My father looked at me, his green eyes heavy, as he held my mother to his side. She was shaking with silent sobs, and I felt a pang of regret. What had I done? But, as I looked at my sister, I knew I had to do it. Jaki wasn't crying, the tears had left dry tracks along her cheeks. She and my older brother, Heath, stood next to one another, both considering me. I felt small in front of them all.
"Felicity," my mother chided me. "What were you thinking?"
"Mum," I said uneasily, looking into her eyes. I was silently pleading with her to understand why I had volunteered. "I couldn't let Jaki go, it's her last year." Everyone looked at me, there were looks of confusion, but I saw recognition in my father's eyes.
"Flick," he said, looking at my sister then back at me. "You're very brave, I'm proud of you."
It was too much, I knew he'd understand. Suddenly I was in my father's arms, crying like I did when I was a child, when something had frightened me. More bodies pressed against me, and I realised everyone was hugging me for probably the last time. My sobs turned to wails. Soon the Peacekeepers were pulling my family away. Heath managed to pull back in time to say, "you can win, Flick."
"I love you," I shouted, as the door was slammed in my face. That was the last time I would see any of them, I knew it. I didn't have long to dwell as the door opened again, and Keyth, the boy from the reaping, showed himself in.
"Flick," he said uneasily, unable to meet my eyes.
I held up my hand to silence him. "I don't have time to be sentimental," I told him, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "You know why I volunteered. Jaki loves you, and she deserves to get married as planned. I couldn't let her go, and lose her chance to be happy. It's her last year to be reaped. Either way, my family would be losing a daughter, but I have less to lose than Jaki does."
"Thank you," he choked out. I realised he was crying.
I hugged him tightly, offering all the comfort I could. "Don't you ever stop loving her," I told him, warning in my voice.
"I won't," Keyth replied, pulling away and wiping his eyes. "I promise I'll look after her." I gave him a curt nod, and we held eye contact for a moment. Then he was gone, and I was left to my own devices again.
No one else came to see me, and I hadn't been expecting anyone to. I sat heavily in one of the armchairs in the room, a cloud of dust rising as I sank into the upholstery. The reality of my situation was hitting me forcefully, and as it did I found it harder and harder to breath. Sobs were racking my body, and I pulled my knees up to my chest, holding them as close as possible, like I was afraid if I didn't I'd fall apart. It wasn't long before the Peacekeepers were back, leading me to a fancy car.
The car ride passed in an awkward kind of silence. Shea sat on one side of Marie and stared into space, looking out one of the windows. I sat sniffling on the other side, occasionally hastily wiping my tears away. When we reached the train Marie lead us through a crowd of cameras. I kept my head down, and Shea walked ahead of me, shielding me from view. I figured he must feel pretty bad for me. Once we were on the train, we were shown to our own rooms.
"I know it's hard, but try and relax," Marie said to me, as she hovered in my doorway. She looked sympathetically at me. "Dinner is in an hour, in the dining car." Without another word, she turned on the heal of her sparkly, silver stiletto and left me in peace.
I looked around me, finding little comfort in my surroundings. Everything was perfect, way too perfect for me to be comfortable. I was used to the warmth of wood, here everything was metal and shiny, or made from crystal and other luxurious materials. I hated it. I shivered slightly, the cool feeling of the room getting to me, and decided to wash up.
The shower was a bit amazing, I had to admit. The warmth of the water helped me settle a bit, at the very least. The settings, though a bit confusing to me, were impressive. As I towelled my hair dry, I noticed it smelt of something sweet and flowery. I ran my ringers through the orange curls, noticing my hair felt softer than ever. I smiled over this trivial fact, before heading back to my bedroom. The clothing was nicer than the furniture. I found a pale blue dress with bell sleeves that fell to my knees, and some white sandals that I liked.
When I arrived in the dining car, Marie was there talking with our mentors, Johanna and Blight. I was surprised to see them at first. They had been at the reaping, but I hadn't seen them since. Blight looked at me, giving me a warm smile. Johanna on the other hand, seemed to be weighing me up. I looked down at my feet. "Felicity, come sit down, dear," Marie said sweetly, untucking a seat for me. She seated me next to Blight.
"So, Felicity," Johanna started, taking a sip of her drink. "What can you do?"
"What?" I asked, dumbfounded.
"What can you do? Can you handle an axe?" Johanna asked, irritation showing on her face. Blight shot her a look that indicated he thought she was going to hard on me.
"No," I said quietly, feeling quite small compared to them all. "I can't handle an axe. I don't really know if I can do anything."
"She carves." Shea had finally arrived. He sat down across from me, running a hand through his dark hair. "I've seen her work in her fathers shop."
"Yeah, but-"
"Carving, eh?" Johanna asked me, cutting me off before I could finish my own sentence.
I nodded nervously. "But what good is that?"
"Well, you know how to handle a chisel, and a knife isn't so different," Blight said kindly.
"I can't defend myself with a knife, if they're that close to me I'm as good as dead," I huffed, indicating to my small frame. I wouldn't be able to fight anyone off.
"You'd be surprised what an advantage you'd have, being so small. People will underestimate you," Johanna told me confidently. "What about you, Shea? Good with an axe?"
"Yeah, I'd say so," Shea admitted. I frowned at my plate, suddenly not hungry. How could I possibly defend myself with just a knife?
After dinner we watched the Reapings from the other districts. As always, the tributes from the career districts looked content, confident and even in the girl, Satin, from District One's case, excited. A few tributes stuck out. One girl from District Eight was shaking from head to toe when her name was called, I felt horrible for her, she was no older than fourteen.
"You know, they don't mean you have to attack anyone," Shea said quietly, as we walked back to our rooms later. "They just want you to know that you'd be able to defend yourself if you needed to. Someone your size could avoid most tributes, you'd be good with hiding."
"I guess," I replied noncommittally. I didn't agree. In fact, I downright disagreed. Someone my size wouldn't last a day in the arena, especially with no real talents.