The Hunger Games
Ch.1
Their Lives
Part 1
A young 15 year old girl drove her stolen rusted red bike on the rocky dirt; about 3 miles -or what she could estimate - from her district's reaping. Pepper had a devious, yet serious grin on her face, and that was for two reasons:
She just stole a bike that was still in good shape and no one seemed to notice.
She knew that the weapon contained in that blue bottle, bouncing up and down in her backpack, was going to be very useful to her clan's rebellion against the capital.
"Pepper" she named the substance, after its creator of course. If you want a comparison, "Pepper" was a mix in between tear gas and pepper spray; it definitely smelled like crap and could make you go blind or throw up.
Oh to make the president blind! Ha! It'd be hilarious if someone accidentally began to drink this… especially the president.
"Miss President, here's the drink you requested, vodka."
She'd drink it and then choke, plead for water and unless she was brought water, she'd kill someone, but guess what? Water doesn't even do anything. Well not exactly, it does make it worse. That'd be hilarious, Pepper you're such a card.
As she continued with those amusing thoughts- at least what she thought was amusing-her light rare pink eyes spotted a weird pile of fur, black and white. She stopped the bike, and saw that she had reached the top of the hill. The rest was downhill thank God. She let the bike fall by the road and she pulled out a pocket knife out of her back pocket, to perhaps extract the meat from this roadkill. She was pretty hungry. She could take the dead rodent's meat, and put it in her backpack for later. Heaven knew finding meat randomly without having to hunt was very rare and a sign of luck. Both heaven and her also knew that'd be really unsanitary, tumbling around with her other junk and stuff she'd stolen. She never stole because she wanted to. She only did it because it was the only way to survive.
Survival of the fittest I always say.
Taking her hand and about to flip over the skunk, an alarm sounded in her head.
Oh my God it's not even dead!
Out of surprise, she threw her hands to the sides of her shoulders, causing her pocket knife to fly out of her hand. The knife stuck right into the abandoned bikes front tire.
Heaven knew flying pocket knives were bad.
She huffed then stomped over to check the damage. A blown out front tire is bad, just like she thought. She yanked the small knife out causing the bike to make wheezing noises.
Oh that's fantastic…
With anger she took the knife going back to the road kill, grazing the knife over its neck.
"You, you caused me to throw that knife, breathing and coming back to life like that."
STOP! What's wrong with you Pepper, why are you being a cruel torturer!
She wasn't a mean or cruel person… at least she always tried not to be. I mean, that's the important part right, to try? It's like when someone gives you a sucky Christmas present; it's the thought that counts.
Only cruel to things that are threatening or deserved it.
There had been situations where she would –accidentally never on purpose- make one of the younger group members cry with a joke. But she always said sorry; the group always stubbornly accepted her apology. That's where she was going after the reaping. Her name was only four in heaven knows how many. After the reaping fueled her fire, she'd go back to her group; fire ablaze in her soul with a dash of determination to get rid of those horrid people.
…leaving it to be in pain is mean and cruel too so…
After deciding to not harm the probably already injured animal, she hesitantly picked it up.
Please don't bite me! You'll give me rabies! If I don't show up to the reaping those crazy people will kill me!
"Aww, you're a girl!" she exclaimed, after of course, looking under it.
"Hmm… we're sort of like twins, you know?" The skunk of course didn't answer, because heaven knows, talking animals would be crazy, but they sort of were. Both had similar colors to their hair and both were looking for a way to defend their selves from the crazy world they were put in.
"So what should I call ya?" Pepper then placed the skunk in her backpack that contained her spray as well.
Heaven knows I'm crazy. A pet skunk…wows.
The skunks head poked out of the backpack, brown eyes looking around at the unfamiliar territory, and smelling the air.
"Lavender? Nah! Sorry but you don't exactly have that flower aroma."
"…"
"Yes, I know, that was kinda mean, sorry. Uh… Stripy? No you're not exactly stripy… I know, Salt! I'll name you Salt! We'll be 'Salt and Pepper,' –sometimes we're too intense we make you cry!"
"…"
"I know, but still Salt is adorable. So from now on your name is Salt, so deal!" And with that, Salt and Pepper bumped awkwardly down the hill all the way toward the reaping.
Part 2
Russell Ferguson sat on a dead-grass hill with his younger "sister," Minka Mark. Both shared a piece of bread; while the 12 year old girl went on and on about why she wasn't allowed to paint and why it was wrong that she wasn't allowed to.
"Look at it!" she exclaimed, happily admiring the art. The picture, filled with different blues and purples, almost portraying a better tomorrow.
"I ripped this right out of a book!"
"Minka!" Russell gasped in shock, nearly choking on his bread.
"Careful, you'll choke yourself." She advised, oblivious to Russell's scolding. She continued to stare deep into the photo sucking up every detail of the splashes of paint.
"Look how beautiful it is Russell." Russell looked still shaking his head then smiled at the landscape portrayed; then he went on eating his bread, taking it with his own thoughts.
"You're not looking!" Russell chuckled, glanced at it, and then went back to his own th-
"Look!" Russell genuinely smiled at the child, who obviously wanted attention.
"But I already did look!" He playfully rubbed her head, messing up her short light blonde hair a bit, not like she really minded. They sat in comfortable silence for about 10 seconds until Minka spoke.
"Russell?" He hoped she wouldn't order him to look at the picture again, but instead was given:
"Why is there a Hunger Games?" Russell sighed, hating the fact that he honestly didn't know,
"That's a question I really wish I had the answer to." Minka shrugged down a bit, obviously not happy with the response,
"I hear that people watch it for… entertainment." Russell's light green eyes looked over at Minka; her light blue eyes were staring at the vast ditch only a few yards away from them.
"Still nervous?" It wasn't exactly a question, since Russell knew the feeling for a fact. Reapings had come and gone and he was still here wasn't he? Today would probably be the same. Minka nodded.
"I was too, when it was my first year," Russell stated in an understanding tone,
"But hey, I'm here! My last year as well. That's basically a guarantee that you'll be fine." Now Russell was not one to give false information or lie. He was only truly known for being smart and understanding and a very lucky- 18 year old. But this was perhaps the only time he had ever given a false statement.
I'm still alive!
Would mom and dad have been proud? Perhaps! He was able to take care of himself, as well as Minka. Would they have even agreed with that? Maybe. And maybe not. Mother really didn't like Minka. She always said that all of her hooting and yelling over nonsense would get Minka into trouble and Russell- if he were around. Father sort of appreciated Minka's free spirit. Saying,
She always brought light into our troubled, darkened world. Said she always looked at the glass half full,
And that was definitely hard for most to do. But perhaps father would say it was bad that Russell had taken someone else under his wing, there was only so much food. But Minka needed him. She needed to learn and understand, and Russell definitely didn't want to be alone.
Part 3
Zoe Trent was sitting, distressed in her own little world, even though 3 guards were in the same room as her.
"I didn't do it." She repeated probably for the 100th time.
Why was it that people always think it was a famous singer who committed a crime?!
She was framed! She wasn't suppose-to be here, dragged into a room and waiting for 3 hours! Zoe Trent was a 17 year old popstar, her career just beginning to take flight, when all of the sudden she is accused of theft. Zoe stood up, just about to stomp out of the room like a model and yell at the person who had gotten her into this mess. But as Zoe only briefly stood up, she was pushed down on the shoulders back into her chair.
"I didn't do anything!" she defended, the guard that had sat her down shook his head,
"As much as I'd like to believe this little story of yours, and still believe that the next generation isn't crazy, there's evidence to prove you guilty." His tone was sarcastic and harsh. Zoe was just about to defend herself yet again when she heard the clicks of heels on the other side of the metal grey door.
Auntie! She's here! She'll get me out of this.
Clarrisa, Zoe's aunt, had taken care of her since her mother, Clarrisa's sister, died at child birth. Clarrisa had given Zoe anything she had ever needed or wanted; she basically started Zoe's singing career.
Yes, auntie will get me out of this! I just know she will!
But Zoe's wish proved to be wrong. When the door knob clicked and the door dragged open, Zoe saw a dark blond woman with red/brown eyes stare intently into her soul and worrisome.
Is that a cross dresser? If not, she could really use a makeover.
The women spat out Zoe's full name in a classy British accent, shaking her out of her thoughts.
"Arise, child." Zoe stood up, tears about to form in her eyes; she feared what was going to come. She could tell that for some odd reason, even though she wasn't guilty, she was about to be charged as guilty. No trial, no form of justice whatsoever, she was automatically found guilty.
"For burglary of the Winston Mansion, I find you, Zoe Trent, guilty. Your punishment- or sentence-, your name will be entered 500 times in the reaping. Though honestly, I believe they should have automatically put you in the hunger games." Zoe's heart halted, her brain pounded, and her hands began to shake uncontrollably.
"But I didn't do anything!" Zoe started to ball, finding comfort lying on the grey concrete floor.
"Lying simply won't do child, at least try to change your ways." A nerve was struck in Zoe's heart as her sniffles became less, and she stared into the women's pleased eyes.
"I don't need to change anything because like I've said over, and OVER again," Zoe's voice started to raise, and she could feel the anger replace the sadness and grow inside of her.
"I didn't do anything." The lady, like the guard, shook her head grinning at Zoe's distress.
"That's where we all know you're lying child," Zoe stood up. She knew she wasn't lying.
"Child, we found the money in your bag."
"That's not true!" Without another word, she slapped the women straight across the face. The women held her cheek in shock and then turned her face back toward Zoe, with a devilish grin.
"You might want to save that fire in you for the Hunger Games. Who knows? Perhaps you won't be the first to die."
Part 4
Penny Ling sat with an elbow on the table of the train.
I know I need to go-for my family's sake…But I don't want to go…
She looked out the window only to see the vast sea below her. The Pacific Ocean. She tried to ignore her imagination's wonders of if the train just stopped over the deep blue.
Well… then I wouldn't go, perhaps I'd even be late for the next train. I wouldn't go.
Just the thought: if she had to kill or was killed. Penny Ling continued with her thoughts as her guardians entered her car. Her father- a massive proud grin on his chubby face- and her mother- average size who's eyes didn't seem to carry any emotion but just stayed glued to the floor.
"So how are you doing?" the man asked her, situating himself into the red booth opposite of her, while her mom sat beside her.
"Fine, fine."
"Good!" he smiled cheerfully, slapping his hands together. "Very good!"
"Penny," her mother spoke, "You can always tell us if you don't want to-"
"It's going to rain." Father cut in, "Just look at those clouds! Waste! It's right over the ocean! This place has already got enough water!" Penny nodded, her lips curling a bit on the ends. Her mother tried to speak again, and tried to get her point across,
"If you don't want to-"
"I must, I have to try." Penny stared coldly at the table, wanting to stab the rope dart through it.
"This is what you've trained me for. I can't let that go to waste."
"That's my girl! You see Neni; I told you she is a strong one! And my girl is going to win." Neni nodded, and hugged her only child and placed a soft kiss on her head,
"She sure is." A bit of silent confusion might arise in your head. Neni only said, "She sure is." Because Penny was being strong. That 2nd statement? Well she wasn't so sure. And Neni herself definitely wasn't strong. Penny's mother went back to her car, and her husband soon followed.
This is what you've trained for.
Penny Ling rubbed her eyes and looked at the wall. Hanging by two hooks was a rope dart with a red band on the end. The thought of having to murder someone, with an object like that; she wasn't ready. Sure she was physically ready, but not mentally. She wasn't even able to take a life from a squirrel. She remembered… the thoughts replayed in her head.
"But how do you kill a person?" she asked her teacher.
"Simple, you take the rope around your wrists and-"
"No, not that. How can you bare to take the life of something or someone?"
"You're such a good hearted child…" the teacher thought for a moment, "You must know that you are doing these actions to stay alive, yes?"
"Yes but-"
"No but child, believe me I know it's difficult. But you must do it for your family. They're risking everything on this- to have money and a better future for you."
Do you hear that Penny Ling?
Yea, they're risking everything… including me…
Part 5
"Trust me, I might not understand much English, but I definitely understand how this cruel strange world turns. Suni, I don't care what our ancestors said. You might deny it, but we're animals. The citizens and especially the capital are animals, ruled by a delusional Zoo Trainor. We know those special ones, the rebels who know: letting loose your rage on the capital is for a good cause. But for those like us, who can't let loose their pit of rage, maybe we'll be lucky enough to be picked from the bowl of lives. So, you know, we can let loose that anger as if toward the capital."
Sunil stared at his sister's grave, remembering those last words she had spoken to him. It was the same day she was chosen. Sunil was actually beginning to believe what his sister had said.
A boy about his age came up behind him and smacked his head with a stick, interrupting his thoughts.
"Come on Sunil! Aren't you going to fight?!" Sunil shook his head, and tried to pick up the book he had dropped out of surprise.
"You're a coward Sunil; an illiterate coward."
Yellow eyes, Weirdo, Scardy Cat, Illiterate, Coward.
He was called many things. But Sunil never gave them the privilege of seeing him cry or being depressed about their teasing toward him. When the small crowd of boys left, Delilah picked Sunil's book up, dusting some mud off of it.
"Sorry about your book." Delilah handed it to him.
"Thank you." Delilah chuckled a bit.
"You know, I don't think he realized that when he teases you on having yellow eyes, he's teasing me too." Sunil thought for a second and then laughed. Delilah was a kind and gracious 14 year old with gold eyes, and gold hair.
"He's stupid." Sunil said.
"I can't argue with you. Anyway, I'll see you at the reaping?"
"…Yea…"
Unlike most, he sort of liked the reaping. Did he like watching people being killed on screen? No. Did he like the funny costumes or hair that the people of the capital wore? Of course not. Well maybe just a little; it made him laugh. Today of all days in the year, was when everyone experienced what he felt. Today he wasn't alone in the terror. But it was only two hours until the reaping, he had plenty of time to think over the trauma.
Truth is, Sunil had seen a lot of things no 15 year old should see. He had seen his mother slowly wither away. At one point she had requested for him to kill her. He told her it was the alcohol, just the pain talking. He said she was going to be fine. Next morning, she wasn't in the kitchen like every morning, her body was in a pit. Sunil had never met his father. Just because of what Sunil was, he was called illiterate. But Sunil took pride being an Indian descendant.
He never got to go to school. There wasn't really such thing. His mother taught all she could on Indian culture and their language, but nothing on English. So Sunil would end up teaching himself or if circumstances were better, he'd get someone to be his friend long enough so they could teach him English. But that usually never worked. Friends came and gone.
"Friends" were people who only liked you because you have something that they want or could benefit from or, they haven't realized yet how everyone else thinks you're a complete weirdo. He remembered when his mom told him the exciting stories about his father, how he fought in some sort of war against the capital. Made him proud to be his son.
Part 6
An early 14 year old waited in a long line, repeatedly forgetting why he was standing in one. But every time he recalled why, the same thought would come back to his mind.
Why are there so many people in a line toward death?
Of course, he knew the answer was the capital, that's why, but…why in the 1st place? Had someone just come up with the idea making everyone cheer? ...Nah…forget about it, it's a stupid question to be asking anyway. You shouldn't be asking why there is a Hunger Games; you should be asking how there is a Hunger Games? How does the capital and its citizens enjoy the same yearly deaths of 23 and 1 victor? Everyone already knows how the game will end. Sure, there was that one rebellion led by…Cat? Yea Cat probably. But that glimmer of hope was a failure.
Vinnie's not so accurate thoughts were interrupted when a quite irritated lady called out "Next," for the third time. Vinnie quickly and awkwardly scrambled his skinny self toward the table.
"Name?" she barked,
"Vinnie."
"Vinnie, like the previous years I want your FULL NAME."
"Vincent Terrio."
"Now I've got to change the first name." The reaping used to not give out name tags, but they started to when no one knew who the person was, and couldn't identify who'd been called to represent that specific district. And of course, that was a major problem. Vinnie received his tag and hummed a happy tune.
"What's he so happy about?" people murmured
"Did the president die or something?!"
Vinnie was completely oblivious to the murmurs growing around him, especially the one about the Madam President dying.
To be honest, getting lost in a world of happy tunes and quick beats happened often to Vinnie. He actually wanted to be a dancer when he was little, but every time he started dancing, people would laugh. Thinking that they were just happy and he was making them smile- though for a different reason from what he thought- he would continue on and on until his legs fell asleep or usually, until he lost footing and fell.
When his father found out Vinnie would dance, he would scold him, not with anger or anything horrid, just with disappointment. He said dancing was a waste of time and that they needed to focus on the most important thing: survival.
"Do you remember your mother?"
"I see her sometimes."
"When?"
"When I go to sleep, I see her twirling in a white dress, as happy as she always was."
Sure, Vinnie didn't dance as much as he used to but he never forgot why he danced. Freedom, and a language that only he and his mother shared. Slowly memories of his mother eroded from his mind, and Vinnie, being the creative guy he was, would bang his head with a rock to try to get those memories back. Luckily for Vinnie, by some miracle, he would never forget his mother's face.
Vinnie stood at his new row, a new row every year, but the same faces. But the dude next to Vinnie was a completely new face and he was no shorter than an Arnold Schwarzenegger. But unlike most who wouldn't talk to the giant- probably because they were scared they'd get punched in the face for saying hi- Vinnie just put out his hand with a grin on his face.
"Hey bro, I'm Vinnie!"
"What do think this is: a meet and greet? One of us is 'bout to die and you're acting like the reaping is social hour."
"..Uh…" Vinnie stood awkwardly, not too sure how to communicate with Arnold. And for the first time in Vinnie's life, he got an idea.
"I was just thinking…what would happen if you were picked. Man, you'd have those people…" I didn't say it was a good idea. Arnold began to give Vinnie a look as if to say:
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
"…on a run… for their money?" Mr. Schwarzenegger finally smiled,
"I would, wouldn't I? What was that name again?"
"Vinnie!"
"Then why does your name tag say Vincent? Is Vinnie the pet name your girlfriend gives you?" he teased. Vinnie laughed,
"No, I don't have a girlfriend, and the registration lady wants my real name." Vinnie looked at Arnold's name tag.
"So, are you called Tyler or something else?"
"Most call me Snapper. Mainly because everyone thinks I could snap one of the Capital's officers in half."
"Cool!" Their short conversation was interrupted by a tapping on a microphone.
"Well, good luck!" Vinnie put out his hand, and gave Snapper a genuine smile.
"Good luck."
