Description- Let's say Catching Fire never happened. No uprisings, no District 13 theories, no nothing. POV of a young girl from District Eleven who... I'm not going to post it here, it will ruin it for those that want to read!
My hazel eyes watch the stars disappear from the cooling spring twilight outside in one of the food trees near the small orphanage I call home. It's illegal to be out during curfew, so is being at the orchard during non-work hours. But they call my name, the shiny diamonds in the sky do, and the only way I can quiet them is by watching them. Spending time with them. Noticing their existence, like I so dearly want people to notice me.
I stay in the fruit tree for a few hours even after the stars set into the light morning sky and poof away. Today marks the day of the Seventy-sixth annual start of the Hunger Games. Once a year, a boy and a girl get chosen today to later go in an arena and tear each other apart. The winner is lucky enough to live the rest of his or her life with money, fame, and a large supply of food.
Victors in the later districts, normally Nine through Twelve rarely win. We are rarely trained for fightings, plus, we normally do suffer a lack of essential nutrients that would deeply help in the arenas.
Here in District Eleven, food isn't as plentiful as we'd like. Hunger and starvation are just something we live with everyday. At the tightly packed orphanage, death from starvation isn't a stranger to us. Most of the young, innocent and early to life cry for the food they most desperately call for. Crave for. Beg.
I loose the trance the sky has on me and find the strength to jump down. The fall isn't that deep, five feet at most, and I easily gain my balance on my shoeless feet. I quickly wipe away any dust and dirt that might have possibly combined on my brown potato sack-like dress that just passes my knees.
With the sun just rising close to the center of the sky, I quickly run to the orphanage. They shall be calling names soon for the games, and the Homesetters- the people that care for use at my orphanage home- tend to wish us be bathed and dressed properly for the event.
Almost as soon as I get to the door, I hear the distant whining and crying of a child. I open the smooth oak door to the building and notice the sounds not too far. Homesetters force and push the young into the different dresses and khaki pants. The slightly older children seem to form a circle as one girl brushes the girl in front of her, as she brushes the hair in front of her, and so on and so on. The older ones about my age, 15, are either laying on thick layers of make-up or putting on gallons of cologne. I feel childish and slightly embarrassed as I find I'm the only one not dressed, even yet bathed, so I dart through the crowd of adolescence to the staircase that leads me to the bathroom.
I'm greeted by nothing but the humid air and smell of dirt as I enter the bathroom. Without much time to waste, I immediately strip off my dress and undergarments and slip into the small tub. I was lucky enough that the person before didn't drain it, seeing as I would have had to run outside and refill the buckets to pour in the tub, so I put the fruit smelling shampoo into my long wavy red hair. I use the small bar of homemade soap to quickly scrub my body of any material it might have gathered.
In a quick flick of my wrist, I grab a large piece of fabric that I embrace around my body. Not exactly a towel, but it will do the job of soaking up the liquid on me. As I look in the small vanity mirror held up on the wall, I find the nearest brush and run it through my hair a couple times. When I'm satisfied with the job I've done, I run to the small bedroom I share with my roommate, Plume- a girl I've known since birth and my best friend- and find the small maple dresser that fills most of the room.
"Oh, Synestra!" Plume runs over to me, and I notice her eyes slightly puffy and red. Her long black hair shines brightly against her dark blue dress with the small ripples at the end. "What if someone here gets picked? I hate the thought of loosing someone again… And what about me? I know I have signed up for at least twenty teserea!" she cries and embraces me in hug. Her arms squeeze tight around my ribs as she lets the small tears fall from her dark blue eyes. Teserea, for each addition piece you add to the pot, you get a year supply of rice and oil. But don't let that fool you. It goes by quicker then anyone could imagine.
"Plume," I grab hold of her wrists and force her dark eyes to look at me. "They probably will pick someone here. But they won't pick you. The odds are ever in your favor! Think of all the extra papers from others! They won't choose you. I can almost promise it," I try to comfort her, but I still see sorrow in her eyes. Doubt. Uncertainty.
"Alright," she whimpers and lets go of me.
"Go ahead and wait downstairs, I'll be there in a minute," a small smile tries to comfort her that formed from my mouth. She slightly nods and paces outside.
The only formal dress I have is a light green sundress with thin straps and waves at the bottom of my feet. I slowly slide it on, fixing my hair as I do so. I slip into the small sandals I own and eventually follow the rest of the children in the house in the downstairs area.
I manage to find Plume on the small worn down purple loveseat in the living room. I quickly run to her, letting my sandals scruff on the worn wooden floors.
Plume came a very short time after I did here. I was just a newborn when my parents dropped me off here from abandonment. Plume arrived nearly a month later, when her mother and father passed away from starvation. It was a miracle she survived. Over the fifteen years we have spent here, we almost became sisters. United together.
She's one of the few, if not only, person here who actually cares about my wellbeing. While Plume plays around with the younger and visit's the old during her time off from working in the fields, I just sit around and ponder with my thoughts growing. I watch the nature, but my favorite thing to look at are the stars. They shine so bright in the darkness. They bring hope to those who have none. Simple, yes. But worthless, never.
I sit on the loveseat right next to her. As I do so, she lays her head on my lap. Her body structure is very small compared to me, but she's also thin from lack of food like I. "How many teserea do you have," Plume murmurs from my lap.
I hesitate for a moment and let my mind think quickly. I know I have about forty altogether, but I don't dare tell her that. I'm about to tell her a small number, but stop when I hear a bell ring. Not long after, the crowded room seems to empty. The Reaping will be started soon.
"I'll tell you later," I start, as Plume bounces off my lap and drags her feet into line. I soon follow, skipping a few others to be in line with her. As we are pushed outside the door, we are immediately get guided to the Town Center, where the names will be called for the games will be held. Peacekeepers- who resemble Town Guards in the old world- march on either side of us, willing to shoot anyone who dares to try and run. It wouldn't be the first time that we lost someone that way…
We must have been late, since the reaping has already started. Plume and I managed to find seats towards the middle row, luckily. They were now giving more of the boring history of Panem, the continent in which we live. It started after a massive war, famine, drought, and plague had hit the old world. Out of the ashes and rubble, our Leaders, the Capitol, managed to build life out of the area. They separated the land into thirteen different districts, each specializing in a different product. District Eleven produces crops, and it shows it by the large mass fields of trees and plants that we harvest. When District Thirteen started an uprising, the Capitol destroyed it many years and years ago. No one survived the harsh attack. They recite the events each year to teach us that the Capitol holds all the power. We are worthless compared to the power it holds.
I stare upstage and notice the three people the stage occupies. Our Mayor Pravo, the mayor of the District sits up there with snow white hair and black pinstriped suit is sitting in the middle. A small mustache curls upwards on his lip, and it accompanied by a small pointed beard on his chin. His lightly colored skin looks leathery from age and much time spent in the fields.
To the right of the mayor is Aphrodite, the winner of the Hunger Games seven years ago. During the old world, a religion that revolved around many gods and goddess in a land called Greece held a goddess named Aphrodite. She was the goddess of love and beauty, and it's easy to see that our representative resembles her much. Long blonde hair that goes down to her hips is completely straight. Her incredibly thin figure is covered by a long strapless gown the color of red satin. Dark shades of red and black eye shadow was obviously applied, as well as thick layers of matching red lipstick. Skin was slightly tanned, and she wore a mischievous smile.
To the far left of the three is a young man from the Capitol. He's the one who will escort the tributes to the Capitol and keep watch of us. He's scrawny and thin, not like many of the other males from the Capitol who normally have muscles and big stomachs. Long shaggy black hair slides past his ears, and large black-rimmed glasses set on his nose. He's wearing a formal tuxedo that's a hue of dark blue.
As the Mayor finished up the story of the old world, the man from the Capitol takes the microphone. He speaks into, revealing a shaky voice, more then likely from nerves.
"So uh, thank you all for coming… even though you really didn't have a choice… I mean, hi, my name is Higgens, and I'll be escorting those to the Capitol today. I say we start calling the names for the tributes. I think it would uh, help get things started!" the man lightly smiles as he walks over to one of the two big balls filled with papers in the front of the stage. He opens one of them and immediately throws his hand in. He shuffles the papers up for a moment with his arm before he finally chooses one.
"For our girl tribute, we have…" Higgens tries to read the name on the paper. As he turns to the Mayor to help him decipher the name, I look to my left and see Plume looking at me.
Her eyes look moist and gloomy as she stares at me. I wrap my hand around hers and whisper "You'll be okay," very quietly. She lets out a small smile and then looks back up to the Capitol man.
"S…Sin, sen, son…. Synestra Ariston," he tries to say.
Before I can even register what has just happened, Plume burst into tears and shrieks loudly as she pins me in a hug. I see many faces stare at me and lightly gasp.
Synestra Ariston… That's me, my brain screams at me, but my body feels numb.
I'm going in the arena.
I'm going to compete in the 76th Hunger Games.
Chances are, I'm going to die.
My first attempt at a Hunger Games Fanfic. Please review, feedback is always a love! I'm going to try and get this to go as quickly from now to the actual arena as I can, but be warned, it may still take a couple chapters ;D