((Ok, so super sorry if this sucks. I've never written a fan fiction for Hunger Games before, so this is my first time and I'm not sure how well this will turn out but favorite, follow, and comment if you wanna!))
Many years passed since those dreadful years of Hunger Games. Since that last Quarter Quell that began the revolution. There were still districts, of course, as they still needed to have something to call everything. President Paylor was luckily still in office, as she was a rather remarkable president. Everything seemed to fit, people could pass freely through the country of Panem. However, Panem was not the only country out there on Earth. They were not the only survivors of the wars that destroyed the planet.
I am from the country of Garlen. Garlen is located in what used to be the country called Canada, at least, that's what our history books say. Now, Garlen isn't the most well-run country, but our defence and offence, is remarkable. Well, any country's would be if they could study other countries so well without them noticing.
Where I live consists of lush forests surrounding farmlands. You would have maybe 8 neighbors within a mile radius. If you were lucky that is. So my neighborhood, can't really be called a neighborhood.
You may be asking yourself who I am, well, in order to tell you my story, I suppose I should tell you. My name is Claire Revlon. I am 15 years old. I have dirty blonde, wavy hair that I normally keep in a ponytail or a braid, depending on what I am doing. I have tanned skin, since I am always out in the sun, and even though the sun forced many to fade, I have freckles covering most of my body. I have hazel eyes that are blue around the pupil and green around the outer iris with gold specks. Of course, I may sound like one who might have guys crawling all over her. I must sound like someone who doesn't have much of a story to tell, especially if I'm just a farm girl. But no, there is more to me than that.
For starters, I'm not your average, everyday kind of girl. Sure I can do those things anyone can do, like hunt, fish, ride a horse even, I know how to fend off the cold and start a fire from scratch. But all of this doesn't matter, everyone I know can do it, so I just catch on. It's what goes on at home, that no one knows about that it so special about me.
You might be thinking it is some sort of family drama; well, that's only part of it. You see, my family is currently under special orders to stay within the outer edges of the country to make sure that the people don't try to escape, or enter. My family consists of my mother, who I look nothing like, my father, who I obviously get all my looks from, and my two brothers. My brothers are twins, both looking like a perfect mix of my mother and father. My mother's green eyes, my father's blonde hair, my father's height and physical strength, and my mother's know how. But even though they are identical, they act absolutely opposite.
Our little makeshift family make it easily in the farming land of Garlen. But there is just one problem. We face serious danger in our country. No, we don't have a Hunger Games like Panem, but rather a sacrifice. You see, every year, each town or city's name gets placed in a jar. The king of Garlen chooses a city at random from the jar and if your city is chosen, you must give your youngest child away. This child, at youngest, must be 13 years old. The children from each family, however, are not filmed for everyone's entertainment, but sent out into the wild. You see, the whole idea of the "sacrifice" is that if they give the youngest child from each family once a year, they will have amazing luck. In fact, the chosen city is given more money than it can handle for their sacrifices. The sacrifice is for the king and Queen's "God".
There have been rumours that most of the children die before the first few days. Others say that they return, even a few say they make it to Panem. Which, I'm sure is an impossible feat.
Now that you know the beginning of why my story is my story, I can get to it.
People were working harder the day of the sacrifice, they plowed quicker, harvested what little food had already arrived, and took quick care of their animals. Within the few hours that began the day, most had finished what was usually a full days work. This was all so that they could get home to watch the king pull out the city name over the television. I was working the way I normally did, though, not wanting to rush into hearing whether I, who am the youngest as my brothers are 2 years older, am to be sent off to my certain doom. I brushed, watered, fed, and exercised the horses the way I normally would: with care. I made sure they were comfortable and then quickly moved onto the other animals that needed care. The pigs were next, they only needed to be fed, however, as they were fairly easy to work with. Next came the cows, then the chickens, and finally helping my brothers with the last bit of their chores. Once we finished our work, we all headed back inside for an early dinner our mother made with my help.
We all ate in silence, gathering in front of our Television to watch the broadcast of the king. The words that echoed in our brains as we watched the program. As the slip of paper pulled from the large glass jar was just about to be read, we all held our breath, watching and listening so close that we could hear a pen drop.
"Hareksville, the lucky town is Hareksville, our main source of food has been given the honor of sacrificing their youngest, beginning at 13, to our Gods! The whole country is at your mercy, people of Hareksville. Tomorrow morning, soldiers will be at your doorstep to it llect your sacrifice, thank you, Hareksville, and I believe I speak for everyone when I say: long live your families." He says, the man smiling at the camera. The king is a strong man, very muscular for someone who just sits around all day. He has golden hair and eyes with a slight beard growing over his double chin.
As I try to process what was just said, my family all around me begin to change. My mother starts to weep, my father begins to pace, my brothers look blank, empty even. Hareksville is the name of our town.
((Pretty short, I know, but other chapters will be longer and more interesting! Promise! Thanks for reading!))