Hi:)
Just to say, I'm not writing a full length fanfiction for this, just little snippets from their story. It will be only like two chapters long. I just wanted to try this style of writing, and I am kind of preoccupied with my Harry Potter stories:)
Please tell me what you think...
Oh and I know that girls are usually reaped first, but I don't know how the story would work if I didn't make the boys be reaped.
THANK YOU FOR READING:)
Mini Fanfiction ~ The Hunger Games
THE REAPING
The heat rises off the ground in waves, the sun glaring in our eyes. Blurred figures scatter the stage, glinting in the sunlight. I raise my hand, shielding my eyes from the sun. I can make out people in the crowd; Tom, clenching his fists, knuckles protruding from his 14 year old hands, little May, with her long red hair, shaking. It is her first reaping. She turned twelve two days ago.
I wish I could protect her. It was my job. When she would fall, I would pick her up, and tuck her hair behind her ear, and make everything better. I am her big brother. When she came home yesterday, announcing she'd taken out tesserae, I broke down. She is barely twelve.
I wish I could run over, comfort her, encircle her in my arms, and hide her from all harm. But I can't. I know that two tiny slips roll around in that ball with May Harvey printed on them. I know that I can't protect her. Not anymore.
Tom turns around, and flashes me a quick smile. I can see through that. He's scared for his little sister too. We both love May. More than anything. Sometimes more than each other. I just clasp my hands and pray that May won't be chosen. That would be the final blow to our family.
Mother is dying. That's why May took out the tesserae, I think. May can't stand to let her go. Not after Ed. It's been four years since Ed was reaped. Four years since he his throat was slit, and he crumpled to the floor. Four years since our mother started to fade away. I know it sounds stupid, but I think that's what triggered the cancer.
The ringing of a microphone blares from the speakers as Cordelia Berry totters to the centre of the stage.
"Ahem." She squeaks, ruffling her curls. "The time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honour of representing District 8 in the 61st Annual Hunger Games!"
It's the same every year; recited from a pink card with the seal of Panem on the back. Not that Cordelia has to read from it. She's had too many years wobbling on that stage, sentencing too many children their deaths.
The crowd is silent. Tense. A few girls clutch each other, so hard it seems they will never let go. Rather them than May, I think. It's horrible, and cruel, to think that, but no more cruel than sending twelve year olds to fight to the death. I swallow, trying to keep my breathing natural.
In District 8, we pick the boys first. I don't know why. The Capitol always sigh and complain, "District 8 and their backwards ways!". Really, it doesn't matter who goes first. Both kids going to die anyway.
Cordelia totters towards the ball, and dips her hand into our names. Her claws swirl, and then grasp a tiny white slip. She cloppes back to the microphone.
"Ahem." She giggles, "District 8's tribute is…"
There is a crackle of paper.
A wave of whisper throughout the audience.
The whole crowd holds its breath.
"Noah Harvey!"
It takes a few moments before I register the name.
Then I realise who the next tribute is.
I realises she means me.