A/N: I apologize, this is a really confusing start to a story, I know. But if you read, and continue reading, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. This story is going to be kind of different, and I think, if it goes as planned, you'll want to see what happens. Enjoy! xx
She raked her hands through her hair, grabbing chunks and pulling. Not hard enough to pull it out, of course. Just enough to hurt; to make her feel something.
She wasn't poor. She didn't know what it meant to starve. She was taken care of, well enough. She had both her parents. She was a lot better off than most of the people in her district.
That didn't mean she didn't hurt.
"Adalee!" Kovu cried, trying to wave her over. "Come here! Look at this!" Adalee closed her book and got up, sighing.
"What do you want, Kov?" She asked the young boy, watching as he kneeled down in the grass. He sniffed, picking up a baby bird in his hand, its leg twitching, chirping in pain. "Oh…" Adalee sighed, hurrying over to her little brother, watching as he stared at the bird, furrowing his brow.
"I didn't mean to. I mean, I did, but I didn't." He looked up at Adalee, no sign of tears in his eyes, but the pain apparent on his face. "I just… I was messing around. I didn't think I'd actually hit it!"
Adalee rubbed Kovu's arm sympathetically with her right hand and draped her left arm around his shoulder. "It's okay, Kov. He's okay, look." She gingerly took the tiny creature from her brother's palms and softly dragged her pinky from its head to his tail. "We can fix him right up. He'll be okay."
Kovu loved animals. That bird was the first thing he'd ever hurt. He was only around seven at the time. Learning to hunt wasn't a requirement in school until age ten. The first day of school killed him. Every day did, knowing that, soon enough, he would be shooting living creatures.
Their dad was a Peace Keeper. He used to be one in District 9 until he met their mother, his future bride. Well, the capitol surely wasn't happy about that, and talk about Star Crossed Lovers. The conditions of them being together were that Miical wasn't allowed to continue as a Peace Keeper in District 9, Juilette had to continue to live in the district, and that, if he and Juiletta had children in the future, they would still be entered in the Hunger Games.
They were being punished for being in love.
This might've seemed worth it when the options were given, but time had proven the situation tough. Miical was never around. Juiletta was clothed in the best, never had to work a day of her life, but she was alone, and now an outcast in the place she had always lived.
They never meant to have children. Adalee was not only a mistake, but a disappointment. If anything, Miical wanted a son. That was where Adalee got her tomboy aspects from; trying to live up to the standards of a father she never saw.
Because of their riches, Kovu and Adalee never had to learn to hunt to survive. They never even had to go into the field and pull wheat. Their father had a job. They didn't need to do anything but school.
For Adalee, school was nearly impossible after age ten. She wasn't a hunter. It wasn't in her blood. And her wanting to keep Kovu's innocence alive left her with the same love of animals and refusal to kill them.
Kovu, though it was hard at first, learned to hunt quickly. He was the best his age. Better than most, even though he hadn't been trained. He had the instincts, the drive, and will to be the best. His fighting spirit overcame his love for animals. He was amazing, and though four years younger, Adalee looked up to him.
"Ready?" Her mother asked boredly as she powdered her face in the mirror.
Juiletta stood out enough in District 9 just by being married to a Peace Keeper. She was hated, even. But, instead of trying to fit in, show people the sweet, caring woman she used to be and that they all once knew, she embraced the Capitol in every way, including looks.
Smoothing down her magenta hair, she turned to Adalee. Adalee stared back at her mother, searching her eyes. She could find no hint of concern, worry, or even a shred of sympathy. There was no woman inside the skinny, outrageous figure in front of Adalee.
Adalee twirled a strand of hair around her finger and watched it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. She hated them. She hated what her father represented. She hated what her mother gave in to.
"Try and keep up."
Adalee turned on her heel, her green cotton dress flowing in the breeze that caught it, and walked out of her house.
She watched along as the others trudged along down the muddy path. District 9 didn't just hunt in the forest, they were the forest. The left part of District 9 was all forest and grass. The center was where the grain grew. The right side was the factories—where everything was put together and made "good enough" for the Capitol.
It was hard to stay clean, especially in such a poverty stricken place; that was evident enough from the way the others were dressed.
Girls wore dresses that resembled rag dolls, boys their hunting pants and a nicer shirt than they would usually wear, some adding suspenders. Faces were cleaner than normal, but not clean enough. By the time they got ten feet from their house, children were already kicking dirt up on their good clothes.
It made Adalee feel even worse about the place she was brought up and the things she wore. She was unique in a way that wasn't desirable.
She smiled encouragingly as kids as they walked by her, but she only received glares in return. Adalee didn't do it to make others feel bad. She wanted to bring them up. But that was hard to do when her name was only placed in six times.
She didn't need to take out any tessera's to feed her family; they had plenty.
Adalee kept her head down as she tried to blend in with the crowd, all heading towards the same place. Her hair fell over her face in waves. That might've been the only thing that stood out about her that she wasn't ashamed of; her hair.
Adalee's hair was long and thick naturally. If you tried to call it a certain color, it probably wouldn't come close to describing it. Highlights wove in and out of her hair in no particular order. There was copper, gold, brown, red, blonde. It was dark in some areas, lighter in others. When the sun, or any light in general, hit it, it was the brightest thing in the room.
When people weren't commenting about how horrible her family was, they were commenting about how her hair was the only lovely thing about the Denwire's.
A group of younger children around thirteen all nodded to Adalee, not exactly friendly, but at least they weren't shunning her.
Ever since her brother had passed along, she'd fed a majority of his friends and kept them alive when their family had no money.
Sometimes, Adalee envied the people of Panem. It was certainly unfortunate that almost the entire continent had been destroyed nineteen years earlier when what was North America and Europe had both started to rebel against the Capitols that controlled them.
At least, though, they didn't have to go through what Conen was going through now. They weren't heading to their 93rd drawing of tributes for the Hunger Games.
Adalee was seventeen now. Her name was only in the bowl six times. The chances of her getting picked were slim. She wasn't even worried. She was disgusted.
She couldn't believe anyone could put up with this. How could all these fifteen districts sit there as children were thrown into a ring, forced to fight to the death?
It was revolting, yet, somehow, she couldn't not watch.
"Welcome, all." Came the voice of Cadnya, the escort of all of District 9's tributes. She was chubbier than what most woman typically were in the capitol. A lot more plain, too. Her hair was a simple shade of maroon and her eyeshadow white. She wore heavy mascara, but that was it.
It was clear from her appearances made throughout the years, Cadnya didn't enjoy her job. She wasn't a fan of the Hunger Games. Adalee's father said that she does the escorting so she can at least make the tributes life a little better, for a short while.
Cadnya stroked her dark cheek and sighed. "The 93rd Hunger Games are ready to commence. As every year, we shall have a viewing of the official historical Hunger Games video and select our tributes.
"Now, if you'll all direct your eyes to the screen."
Cadnya reluctantly turned with the rest of the crowd to watch the holographic projector, backed with a black screen so it was more visible.
Adalee personally preferred tvs and overheads over this technology, but the Capitols always wanted to be bigger and better.
The video, as always, told of how centauries before, the end of the world was upon us. As the ice caps in the world began to melt, sea levels began to rise. There were mass earthquakes. Destruction was everywhere, and a majority of civilization was whipped out.
Somehow, we managed to rebuild ourselves. And so, with the leaders in our resurrection, came the Capitol, and the created the Districts. What was left was a section of North America, Europe, and a chunk of Australia, or so they say.
The Capitols of North America and Europe took over, and began a dictatorship, promising to ensure we would keep our race alive.
Ninety-two years ago, the districts in Panem began to rebel. Word of the uprising got to Europe, now Conen, and they followed suit. The war lasted less than a year. Panem turned against each itself completely and was destroyed.
Conen wasn't so lucky.
As punishment and a reminder that the Capitol rules, every year, two children 12 to 18 from each district must take place in the Hunger Games, a fight to the death.
"And so concludes our presentation. Now, without further ado..."
All the children stood silently, bravely, watching. They wouldn't cry. They wouldn't cause a commotion. Those chosen accepted their fate with dignity, but that didn't mean anyone was to applaud them. It's not like it was their choice.
There were few parents or adults in the crowd. Not many could watch their children or friend's children get chosen to die without protesting and getting themselves killed.
"For the girls: the tribute is..." Cadnya's voice rang out, matter-of-fact and meloncholy. "Abagail Turnip."
As done every year, the crowd on the girl's side began to step away, creating a trail. What Adalee saw broke her heart.
A young girl who Adalee knew could only be twelve made her way up to the stage created for this occasion. Her blonde hair was in pig tails, each tied with a pink bow. She wore a pale pink dress that was obviously too long. She had to hold it up while she walked, and kept stumbling when she stepped on it.
Adalee could only stare. This girl was the youngest and smallest she'd ever seen chosen from her district. How could they send this young girl into a ring to her death?
The girl, Abigail, obviously couldn't handle it. She cried as she stood by Cadnya. The brown skin woman wrapped her arm around the child comfortingly, but didn't break character. "Wonderful. Now, for the boy tribute..."
The crowd stood in awe, gaping at the girl up on stage. How could this be allowed? How was this okay?
Could she just sit there? Could Adalee really watch as a girl who barely looked big enough to carry a fox she may shoot in the woods go to her death?
She debated this. No, no she couldn't. She couldn't take the crying girl's place. It wasn't for her to do. It wasn't... Her father wouldn't approve... Yet, watching the tears stream down Abagail's face...
"Brandon Byner."
Gasps now filled the crowd. Not him. Of course not. That had to be a mistake. Brandon? No. Not the boy everyone loved. Not the one everyone admired.
He didn't have a special skill. He wasn't overly attractive. But he was charming. He had friends, and a lot of them. He was respectful; well liked. Brandon Byner was perfect. How could he be chosen as a tribute?
As the curly haired brunette made his way to the stage, holding his broad frame up boldly, Adalee felt the world drift away. It went farther and farther. It disappeared. Her whole reason, her whole being.
Brandon Byer was her world. Without him, she was nothing. She felt as if life had just been destroyed.
"Thank you. Let's hear a round of applause for our tributes."
There was practically silence. The youngest tribute from District 9, and everyone's favorite boy, both going to their death? No one knew how to react.
"Now, if that would be all, this concludes..."
"No." Adalee gasped out, feeling dizzy. The ground shook under her and she dropped to her knees. "No! NO!" Her voice grew louder, higher, more frantic. She felt crazed. Everyone backed up, giving her air, and looked confused at the girl gripping the ground for dear life.
Adalee looked up. "No. She can't go. I have to! I have to be District 9's tribute!"
More importantly, she needed to protect Brandon's life.