I do NOT own Hunger Games, HTTYD, and Brave characters though a few characters are of my manifestation. Also some parts are taken from the book ad I don't mean to plagiarize or sell this off as my own. It is not. By the way, I like turtles. Randomness moment!
Chapter 1The Reaping
My hands reach out for the triplets' warmth, but I find nothing but cold sheets. They must have woken up with bad dreams and slept with Mum. I don't blame the poor boys. It's the Reaping, the day when the Capital chooses two tributes to play in their games to the death. They're now twelve so they get put into the selection.
I push my legs over the edge of the bed and place them into their boots. The worn leather grooved to fit them perfectly. I try to run a brush through my mane of wild red hair but to no avail. I look over to my brothers, Hamish, Hubert, and Harris, their red hair just as wild as mine, and Dad. I pull Dad's old hunting jacket over my shoulders and start out to the Meadow.
It is the Reaping, no work for the beaten down souls of the Seam. The Reaping isn't until two, may as well sleep in if you can.
Our part of town is nicknamed the Seam. It is where all the poor, unwanted citizens of District Twelve live. Most habitants have dark hair and eyes and olive toned skin. My family's hair is a rarity. Mum being the only one without red hair, the boys and I all have wild red hair and crystal blue eyes. So did Dad, before the mine explosion killed him and countless other husbands and wives.
I make it to the fence where I shimmy under and take off to the surrounding woods. The fence is supposed to be electrified twenty-four hours a day, but due to regular power outages, it is normally dead. The fence is supposed to keep predators out and citizens in.
"District twelve, where you can starve to death in safety," I glance around, unsure whether someone heard me. I use to scare my Mum to death with the things I would say. I would just blurt random things out, no matter where I was.
My feet find the regularly trodden path that I use to hunt. I retrieve my bow and arrows and game bag from a hollow log. This morning I am lucky, I catch a squirrel, two hare, and a nicely sized raccoon.
I walk to a rocky cliff where a brunette sits, staring out into the sky. Gale. My friend since I was twelve. His father was killed in the same blast as mine. He turns, hearing my footsteps on the path.
"Morning, Red," says Gale. I didn't tell him my name until a month after meeting him. It's really Merida but he calls me Red anyways. Also that, because a baby cardinal began to follow me around. It had a sweet little song but it scared off the prey with it, so I had to kill it.
"Look what I shot," Gale holds up a loaf of bread with an arrow in the middle. Making it look like he shot it.
I sit next to him, on the ledge, "The baker's generous today." Normally he haggles on prices, but the games must be getting to him.
"Yeah, he even wished me luck," Gale sits back, tears the loaf into two pieces, and hands a piece to me. This can feed Mum, the boys, and I tonight after the Reaping. "It's not just me who needs luck now," Gale says bitterly. "Rosalie is going in."
Rosalie, Gale's little sister. She is in the triplets' year at school. She is small, delicate and whenever I'm around her, I feel like I need to protect her from the Seam's cruel nature. I love her as much as I love the boys.
I put the piece of bread into my pocket and I feel a touch of soft, cold cheese. Mother must have put in my pocket last night. I pull it out and share it with Gale, who is staring out over the horizon to a better world.
Gale shatters the silence, "We could do it you know. Run off into the woods. You and I, we could make it."
I'm dumbfounded by this sudden declaration. I scramble for a response.
"We wouldn't make it five miles," I say, hoping Gale does not try. Gale lapses into a thoughtful, angry silence again. I divide the spoils between us. Gale has shot a few squirrels, a rabbit, and an unlucky turkey. Bunches of strawberries lay at the bottom.
We part ways after an hour of sitting and nibbling on cheese and hunting. We divide at the fence.
"See you in the square," I say, hauling my game bag.
"Wear something pretty," Gale says flatly.
I make it home, the boys are already in dark pants, and white shirts that Mum pressed last night. Mum is wearing a light green dress down to her calves. She hands me a light blue dress and black ballet flats that I change into without a protest. She brushes out my wild red hair in a way that I never could and miraculously braids it into an up do. Before long, it is time to walk to the city center where they have the Reaping.
Camera operators perch on rooftops like vultures, ready to record anything that happens. All of Panem will watch the Reaping to see who was chosen.
I stand with a group of sixteen year olds from the Seam. We all exchange terse nods. The different age groups are belted off and away from each other. Twelve year olds in the back and eighteen year olds at the front.
The huge town square clock strikes two o'clock and the mayor steps forward to begin the story of the Hunger Games. The districts, at the time thirteen, banded together and rebelled against the Capital but the Capital destroyed District 13 in response. Now as punishment, the Capital has the twelve Districts send two tributes, one boy and one girl, to the Capital, then to an arena to fight to the death against twenty-two other tributes, only one can be the survivor and be crowned Victor of the Hunger Games. Out of the seventy-four Hunger Games, so far only two have won. Haymitch Abernathy who is still alive and the other tribute is dead.
"'M 'ere. Don' worzies," Speaking of the devil, Haymitch stumbles onto the stage, drunk. He sits down onto one of the chairs on the stage and stares at the clouds like a child. He's normally down at the Hob, the secret black market, sitting at the bar and drinking with friends he picked up since the games he one.
Effie Trinket, the Hunger Games Tribute Manager waltzes onto the stage from the Justice Building, the home of the Mayor and his family. She sits onto a chair next to Haymitch. Her pink wig is brighter than ever. Haymitch tries to give her a hug and she battles him off with her purse.
The mayor ends his speech and sits next to Haymitch. Effie toddles up, bright and bubbly as ever.
Effie gives her signature, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Her capital accent makes me want to laugh. How odd it is. It goes up like a question at the end.
Through the crowd, I spot Gale looking back at me. He has a ghost of a smile and I give it back. As Reapings go, at least this one has a slight entertainment factor.
Its time for the drawing. Effie Trinket pipes as always, "Ladies first!" and crosses over to the pink glass ball holding the girl names. She reaches in, digs for a slip, and pulls a paper out. Everybody draws a collective breath. Please not me, please not me, please not me. I am feeling nauseous.
Effie Trinket crosses the podium, smoothes the paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. And it's not me.
It is Rosalie Hawthorne. Gale's sister.
The breathe feels like it was punched from me. I see Gale shouting as Rosalie walks by, her brown little braids coming loose. Gale is pushed back from the crowd. Peacekeepers pointing a gun to his head.
You can see that he wants to save his sweet sister from this. I feel my heart breaking. Rosalie makes it up the stage, fists tightened at her sides.
"Any volunteers?" Effie asks. My brain clicks. I could save her!
I push past the sixteen year olds, "I volunteer!" The peacekeepers push me back. I push them back. "I volunteer as tribute!"
Effie seems startled and Rosalie shocked. Gale stares at me as if I'd grown another head. The peacekeepers push me forward to the stage where Rosalie still stands. I climb the stairs to the stage and the little girl snaps out of it.
"No Merida! No!" She grabs my dress as the peacekeepers pull her away.
"Rosalie. Let. Go." I grit my teeth. This is making me too emotional. If I show any weakness, then I will lose my only chance of looking tough in front of the camera. Rosalie is pulled off me and taken back to the Twelve-Year-old pen in the back.
"Bravo! Now that's the spirit of the Hunger Games!" Effie pulls me over to the podium, "Tell me your name?"
I speak clearly into the microphone, "Merida Dunbroach."
Effie smiles in an odd way. "So you wanted the fame and fortune she was going to get, huh?"
"Right." No use explaining. It would take too long. Effie's pink hair must be a wig, because I can see that it's crooked.
Effie Trinket smiles, "Now let's give this young girl a round of applause!" The square is silent. No hands clap. They must know me from the Hob when Gale and I trade our spoils to get money for what we need.
Then something extraordinary happens. At least I don't expect because I didn't think District Twelve cares for me. A shift has occurred and an old man pushes three fingers to his mouth and holds them out to me. Everyone in the crowd does the same. It's an old ritual at funerals. It means thanks and admiration. It means goodbye to someone you love.
Now I truly am in danger of tears. Fortunately, Haymitch decides to take the attention away from me. He crosses the stage to where I stand. "Look at her. Look at this one!" He hollers to the crowd. He throws an arm around my shoulders. He's surprisingly strong for such a heavy drinker. "I like her!" His breath reeks of spirits and it's been a while since he's bathed. "Lots of…" He can't think of a word. "Spunk!" He says triumphantly. "More than you!" He shouts directly at the camera. Is he taunting the Capital? I'll never know because he opens his mouth an dsteps off the stage, plummeting to the ground below. Knocks himself unconscious.
He's disgusting but I'm grateful for the distraction. I take a minute to compose myself, letting out a small sound like a hiccup.
Effie stands. "Well this has been quite exciting now hasn't it?" Men with a stretcher come and take Haymitch into the Justice Building. Effie crosses the stage to the boy's blue ball. She reaches in and takes out a paper and slowly, agonizingly, walks to the podium.
Effie reads it one more time and says, "Hiccup Haddock." Oh no. Not him, I think. The scrawny brunette shakily walks to the stage and stands beside me. Effie asks for any volunteers but no one pipes up. Family and friendship only goes so far on the Reaping day. Hiccup and I shake hands and the anthem plays. The peacekeepers usher us into the Justice Building and into separate rooms. I think about what lays ahead. Will I get killed? Well of course I will. Mum and the boys will have to live without me. Then I think about Hiccup Haddock. How will I be able to kill him? Odds are that he will be killed first but then again odds have not been in my favor recently.
I hope ya'll like it! I just think that Katniss and Merida have so much in common. Same with Hiccup and Peeta. So see ya'll around. Yay!