Hi! So this is my first fanfiction I've ever written and I'm really excited to hear people think. Constructive criticism is welcome of course but don't maim me. Anyway, this story is basically what I imagine would happen if District Thirteen wasn't "destroyed" in the First Rebellion, rather it was destroyed 26 years after the First Rebellion. Also, in this story I am entertaining the idea that Alexandra's Genesis (a genetic mutation that creates perfect people with purple eyes) exists. Disclaimer: I don't necessarily believe it exists. I spent a lot of time searching the internet to see if it did but for the sake of the story, I'm just going to say it does. Hope you enjoy the story!
Another Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games (obviously). This is a FANFIC. The Hunger Games belong to the lovely Suzanne Collins and may the odds be ever in her favor.
I wake slowly, blinking the morning sunlight out of my eyes. Groaning, I throw an arm over my face to block out the light. It's Reaping Day. Sliding out of bed, I climb down the ladder from the top bunk where I sleep. Rose, my twin sister insists on sleeping on the bottom bunk because she's afraid she'll fall off the top. That works just fine for me. The bottom bunk makes me claustrophobic.
Rubbing my eyes as if that will get the sleep out of them, I shuffle over to our dresser and pull out my gray work jumpsuit. I brush out my shiny black hair and pull it into a low bun. Then I make my way into the kitchen, hungry for breakfast. Rose is already up - she's always up before me - and making breakfast. Our morning mush boils in a pot. It looks disgusting, but that's just the tesserae. It tastes fine anyway.
"Happy Reaping Day, Vi." she says with a weak smile.
"I hope you're being sarcastic," I reply, plunking down next to father.
Since it's reaping day, we have a special treat on the table. Blueberries. Hungry for something other than mush, my stomach rumbles and I reach out to take a few. Father smiles at me over his bowl as I pop them into my mouth. It must have cost him a weeks wages to get these.
"Morning, Violet. Are you ready for today?"
"I've survived two reapings," I reply. "I should be able to survive a third."
Father's eyes crinkle behind his glasses. "Let's hope so."
Rose sets a bowl before me and sits down. She's not at as much of a risk as I am today. I'm the only one who takes tesserae. Once we both turned eleven, I forbade Rose to take any. Every time you take it, another slip of paper with your name on it goes into the reaping bowl. The more slips there are, the higher the odds are of being drawn to be in the Hunger Games.
I can't let Rose have a higher chance of getting in than me.
She's much shyer than me and she could never kill anyone. She cries if she so much as scrapes her knee and can't bear to watch the games. She misses me now that I'm not in school anymore. But I couldn't stay there. I wanted to work. And I had to get away from Eddy.
Eddy.
Where do I start with Eddy. He's an annoying, selfish jerk who believes he's entitled to do whatever he wants just because his family is one of the richest in District 13. It's because of Eddy that I hate my eyes. Why couldn't I just have normal brown eyes like Rose and everyone else in this district? No, I just had to have purple.
It's apparently called Alexandra's Genesis. When my teacher told me this in school, I asked her what Alexandra's Genesis was. "A mutation," was her answer.
"Like the mutts in the Hunger Games?" Eddy had asked, without raising his hand. The teacher blinked and opened her mouth to reply but Eddy pointed at me and started chanting, "Mutt! Mutt! Mutt!"
All of his friends joined in and it took awhile for the teacher to shut them up. So yes, I hate Eddy.
It's his own stupid fault he has to pick on anyone who's different or less fortunate than him. And he has the slimmest of chances when it comes to being reaped. Though he's fourteen like me, he's never taken any tesserae. And I'm sure his father has some strings pulled whenever the reapings roll around.
Mother eats quietly this morning. She was blinded in the First Rebellion when she was mine and Rose's age. Even though she is blind, she can still do many tasks very well. The spoon in her hand never misses its mark as she brings it to her mouth and back down into her bowl again for more tesserae mush.
Father checks his watch. "We'd best be going, Violet. We want to get our work done before the reaping."
"Right," I say, scraping up the last remnants of mush in my bowl. "Wouldn't want to be late for that."
"No," my father replies very seriously. "We wouldn't." He's always very serious about the reaping. After fighting against the Capitol in the First Revolution, my father is very wary about doing anything that might upset the Capitol. If you don't come to the reaping, they'll come for you. And you can bet you'll be punished.
I go to walk out the door when a hand grabs my arm. "Be back in time to fix my hair, won't you, Vi?" Rose pleads.
"Of course," I reply, offering her a smile, the biggest I can muster on this grim day. "As long as you do mine." She nods and lets go of my arm.
As my father and I walk through the district, I see Eddy creeping up towards us in an alleyway. Seeing my father, he shrinks back with a frown. I make an exaggerated pouty face at him. He won't bully me while my father is right next to me.
To be honest, I think he's a little afraid of me after I beat him up a while ago. The result? Let's just say he won't be bullying Rose anymore.
In the shadows of the alleyway, I see one of Eddy's little cronies, Aiden. He's probably the quietest of Eddy's friends, not that it makes him any better. He never said anything mean to me but it's not like he stood up for me either. He would stand quietly in the back of the group and stare at me. Like he was afraid of me.
Good. He's a merchant's kid anyway. Not as rich as Eddy's family, but close.
Aiden stares at me today like he always does. I can see the fear in his stupid normal brown eyes. I glare at him. He hates me, I can tell. And I hate him.
When Father and I finally reach work, there is excitement in the air. Our cover business in District 13 is graphite mining. Really, we make nuclear weapons to use against the Capitol. This started back in the First Revolution and though the Capitol thought it had stopped, it hasn't. All the work is underground in a heavily armored facility. On the outside, it says "Graphite Mines" to deter any suspicions from the peacekeepers.
The whole thing is a fortress, really. So big that we call it "The Underground City." I bet our whole district could fit down here.
I joined my father in this work, determined to show the Capitol who was boss. And that's just what we intend to do. The reason for the excitement is the new weapon we have just created, that could surely do a number on the Capitol.
"We'll really show them now!" says one of the workers, Max. He's one of Father's good friends.
Laying a hand on Max's arm, my father says. "Let's hope so. It may be good for a bargain."
"Bargain?" scoffs Max. "We could destroy them easily with these nukes."
"You are that confident? Suppose they don't work. They may only be good for a convincing bluff."
"Then we'll use that bluff," I say. "It's better than nothing. Even if they don't work, I'm sure we can make the Capitol think they will."
Max nods and says. "Let's just hope they work."
After work, Father and I head back home quickly. We have to make sure we're in time for the reaping.
When we reach the house, Rose is already in her reaping clothes. A pale pink dress with short sleeves and matching shoes. It's the most expensive thing she owns. I have a matching outfit in lavender.
Rose's hair is down and she jumps up when she sees me, looking urgent. "Thank goodness, Vi. Get your dress on quickly!
"Alright, alright!" I laugh slightly, running to our room and stripping off my jumpsuit. I slip on the dress and the shoes and pull down my bun, shaking my hair loose.
Rose is ready with a brush as I come out. She braids my hair in a single four-strand braid down the back with nimble fingers.
When she's done, I do her hair in two four-stranded braids on either side of her head.
Father's smile is approving, but his eyes are worried. "You look lovely, girls."
Mother sighs. "I wish I could see you two. I can only imagine you both look beautiful."
Rose says, "Thank you, Mother." and squeezes my hand. She's nervous. I should be more nervous, having a higher chance of getting reaped, but I'm not. I guess I'm too worried about Rose to think about my own reaping.
We reach the city square miraculously on time and go to our assigned sections. Rose and I with the other fourteens and our parents in the back with the other people in the district who are oven eighteen and therefore, will not be reaped.
Our reaping host, practically bounces onstage with enthusiasm I can't tell is real or faked. His name is Theodore Keller and he's absolutely revolting. His hair is caked with what looks like white clay, his cheeks are far too red, and there are sharp black lines drawn on his face to accentuate his features. His suit is ridiculously bright and covered with pieces of reflective glass so he throws beams of light that stab everyone's eyes when he moves.
"Welcome to the twenty-sixth Hunger Games, District Thirteen!" he cries into the microphone, a little too close. Feedback whines through the speakers and he steps back with a laugh. "It appears I got a little too eager there for a moment!"
Nobody laughs.
Clearing his throat, he continues. "Right then. We had such an exciting quarter quell last year, don't you think?" The square is silent. "Well I certainly thought so!" He laughs again and claps his hands. "I think we're all ready for another reaping to spice things up a little. But first, the video! Direct your eyes to the screens please!" He swoops his hands upward to point to the two view screens on either side of the reaping stage.
Rose closes her eyes next to me. She hates this video. About how the revolution was a mistake and the Capitol brought balance to us all and to pay for our actions our children are reaped to fight to the death with only one winner. The Hunger Games is our punishment for rebelling against the oh-so-glorious Capitol, so on and so forth.
The Capitol especially hates District Thirteen. We were the main cause of the rebellion and did the most damage to the Capitol. They're still sore that even after they crushed the rebellion, our district still survived.
Despite their efforts to kill off every tribute from thirteen, we've had one victor. Lucy Lee. She sits on the stage next to the mayor in a plain gray dress and with a solemn expression on her hard face. I can't imagine what it's like to mentor kids and watch them die every year.
The video ends and Theodore struts over to the reaping bowls. I try not to think about how many times my name has been put in there on a small piece of paper. A piece of paper that could very well determine my fate.
"Ladies first!" he crows, thrusting his long fingers into the bowl. I take a deep breath as he reads the name.
"Violet Tsu."