My first The Hunger Games fan fiction. Reviews - praise & criticism - are welcome. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I only own Annabelle, the rest is Suzanne Collins'.
I watch them laugh together as they disappeared into the Hob, game bags in their hands. Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne. Best friends. Both the main providers for their families. Both from the Seam. Neither would associate themselves with me. Ever.
I may live in the merchant part of District Twelve, but we're almost as poor as those in the Seam. At sixteen years old, I support my family in any way, shape or form. Well, what's left of my family. My little brothers, Alex, who is barely nine years old, and Danny, who has just reached eleven. My wheelchair-bound father, just turned forty-five. They can't do much.
My mother taught me how to use a knife before she died four years ago. I have perfect aim with any kind of knife, can hit anything within a reasonable distance. I use my skills to provide for my family. I often sneak out of the District, out into the woods, to find animals that can be killed and cooked. Every so often, we do sell something from our little candy store. The only one in the District, the one that people rarely buy from. Who needs candy, right? People have more important things to buy.
I make sure to never come across Katniss or Gale in the woods. They don't know anything about me, would probably make fun of me for being in the woods. They don't know what I can do with a blade, what I do for my family. They would assume that, at sixteen and a part of the merchant area, my name would only be in the Reaping bowl a total of five times, the mandatory slips.
No. I have to apply for tessera on top of everything else, so that adds another sixteen Annabelle Rosa slips from the past four years, on top of the five mandatory ones. Twenty-one times, my name is in that bowl.
So, if I run into a man-made snare, or tell-tale signs that someone else is walking around, then I go the opposite way. I trade in the Hob when I know they're not in there. I don't sell to Peacekeepers, except Darius. Darius is okay.
I have some friends at school, but only one close friend. Peeta Mellark. He's the only one who knows everything, absolutely everything about me. I'm the only one who knows everything about him. His infatuation with Katniss. How I really feel about Gale. We can't tell anyone else those things. Who would understand?
So, we love them from afar.
District Twelve holds its breath as Effie Trinket dips her perfectly manicured hand into the first bowl. Her hand swishes around in there for a few moments, before finally pulling a slip of paper out. The time it takes for her to walk back to the microphone and open the slip seemed like eternity.
"Primrose Everdeen!" She calls out cheerfully. Silence. Not Prim. Adorable, sweet little Prim. Anyone but Prim. She slowly starts making the trek up to the stage, tucking in the back of her blouse as she goes.
"Prim!" Someone screams. Everyone's attentions turn to Katniss, fighting against the Peacekeepers as she tries to reach her sister. "Prim!"
"Katniss!" Prim calls back, but she's barely heard as Katniss yells,
"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" Silence again as she climbs the stairs onto the stage. Gale has to carry a screaming Prim away, and the pure pain on his face as he does so makes my heart ache.
There's barely any time for me to pray for the well-being of either Peeta or Gale before Effie Trinket reads out the name on the slip from the boy's bowl: Peeta. My heart feels like it's stopped. Not Peeta.
He silently takes his place on the stage, and nobody volunteers for him. I would, if only I could. But of course I can't. Wrong gender, obviously. They shake hands, and are escorted into the Justice Building.
"I'm going to say goodbye to Peeta," I tell my father, who nods and beckons for my brothers to go home with him. He's relieved that I wasn't picked, but he knows how close Peeta and I are.
I awkwardly wait in line to say my goodbyes, absently fiddling with the hem of my dress. It's a light, mint green, the overlay of the skirt made of a chiffon material. The top is a smooth material, with short sleeves and a modest cut. It was my mother's dress.
I snap to attention when the door opens and Peeta's family walks out, looking sombre. The Peacekeeper gestures for me to go inside, and I greet Peeta with a tight embrace. I can feel his tears soaking through the shoulder of my dress, can feel his body convulsing with his silent sobs.
"Peeta, look at me," I say, pulling away.
"I can't win," he whispers. "She can. I've got no hope."
"Try," I plead. "Do whatever you can. Try to come home." Peeta says nothing, and I pull him back into my arms. Saying goodbye to your best friend under such circumstances is one of the hardest things.
All too soon, the door opens and I'm being pulled away from him.
"Try, Peeta!" I call.
"I will, Anna!" He replies, and the door is slammed in my face. As I leave the Justice Building, I see Gale walking with his family. His mother, Hazelle, seems to be comforting him. The people of District Twelve have dispersed, many to celebrate. The Everdeens and Mellarks will close their shutters and shut themselves off from the rest of us. The Hawthornes, too, and the Rosas. My family will not be celebrating.
I walk a few steps behind Gale and his family through the Town Square, and as he turns off in the direction of the Seam he glances behind him, at the Justice Building. Then his eyes travel downwards, and meet mine.