77: Lucky Times Two?
Prologue
I was lost in thought, reminiscing about the previous Games and how I had gotten here. I mean, me? I was, in a nutshell, a street-fighting orphan, literally fighting for my life.
"Evening Starr, District 2."
Sighing, I marched through the door, a gate closing down behind me.
"Hey, umm, got any punching bags or something? I'm a fist-fighter," I drawled. The judge people frowned.
"Can you use any weapons?"
"Yeah, sure." I shrugged and picked up a knife, letting it sail through the air. I was aiming for the chest area, but it hit a bit upward.
Snickers. Someone said, "I've seen a monkey toss its feces with better aim."
I raised an eyebrow. "'Kay. Bring me a dummy." Sneering, a guy brought one out. It was supported on a pole.
I popped my knuckles. They watched, but with little or no interest. Taking a deep breath, I sent some punches at the dummy's face. It jerked at unnatural angles for a person. Pride whooshed up in me. I dealt the final blow, a neck-snapping roundhouse kick. The dummy's head thudded to the ground.
Grinning cheerfully, I practically skipped out.
(Just saw the movie. It was great.)
Let's keep in mind, my prologues will be the shorter parts of my stories. I hope it makes you want more. And, okay, so my character seems a little on the Mary Sue side, perhaps. But please, don't point it out! Just give me a suggestion, and refrain from whining about what's wrong with my story. This is how I envisioned it; it doesn't have to be perfect! Gosh.
~shannon-the-phoenix~