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The Quarter Quell
Welcome to the 3rd Quarter Quell- the 75th Hunger Games. This year's Quell is: While only past victors are reaped, only family members can volunteer. SAME CHARACTERS - NO REBELLION
CHAPTER 1 - KATNISS POV
In the woods, it's easy for me to lose myself and focus on hunting. While I haven't been out here as much as when I was taking care of my mother and my sister Prim, I can still remember the patches where wild turkeys roam or the berries grow. Ever since Peeta and I won the Hunger Games, we've been doing interview after interview and touring Panem to see the Districts. Being so busy faking love and dreading the act of mentoring new District Twelve tributes fills my life with reasons to hate the Capitol. The Capitol will control my life until the day I die, so I haven't been thinking about Gale or his family as much as I need to. I know that I should, because while I have been living an 'easy life,' Gale hasn't accepted any of the money I got as a result of being a victor, and still works at all hours- either in the mines or hunting for his family.
When I was finally allowed to slip away for a few hours today, I sneaked out to the woods surrounding District Twelve. I set snares and use my bow and arrows to help Gale's family out. When I feel I've gotten a decent haul, I take the game over to the Hawthornes' house and give the food to Hazelle, Gale's mother. Gale knows I hunt for him, and it pains him to see it. So I always go to his house when I know he's working in the mines. I skip going to the Hob today, because I've been gone for a while and my family will be wondering where I am. I need to go back early today because the Quarter Quell subject is being announced today. Every 25 years, as a reminder to the Districts that the Capitol can torture us as much as it wants, the Hunger Games rules are varied a bit. In the first Quarter Quell, the Capitol forced the Districts to vote on the tributes to be sent to fight to the death. In the second, there were twice the number of tributes. Out of all 48 of them, Haymitch beat the odds and was that year's victor. Tonight, the third Quarter Quell will be announced.
I rush back to my family's home in the Victors' Village- while there are 12 homes, only three are occupied by Peeta, Haymitch and I. I can't help but grimace when I think about how long it will be until another home is filled. I walk in the front door and see my mother and Prim already sitting in front of the television. I dump my empty game bag on a table and sit down on the couch.
President Snow is looking as grotesque as ever, with his wispy white hair and snakelike features. He stands on a large stage, reciting from a small gold card that he has picked out of a small white box. The back of the card says 3rd Quarter Quell.
"And so, as a reminder to the Districts that even the strongest of the strong cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, this year's Quarter Quell will be based on only the victors being reaped." President Snow's words take a while to sink in. What? I think. I don't understand what he's saying.
"However, because supporting victors as though they are your family is important in the Games process, only those with a blood relation can volunteer for reaped victors." Suddenly, it all makes sense. There is one female victor from District Twelve. I have to go back into the arena. Back to the Capitol and the audience and the killing and the nightmares. My throat lets out a choked noise. I stand up and stumble backwards until my hands find the door. I twist the doorknob and run out.
When my feet hit the ground I wonder where I am to go. My legs decide to take me to my old house in the Seam. As I'm tearing through my old neighborhood, I can't think of anything except the horrors I have to face. When I slam open the door of the rusty old shack I used to live in, I fly into the old bedroom. I crash on to the bed and sob. I was supposed to be safe! Being a victor means you never go back in the arena! This time, for sure, I won't be coming back out alive. All those victors have had years to study the games as mentors, and know the best way to kill without being killed. My stomach flips upside down and suddenly I'm throwing up my lunch and everything else that's in me. I heave until nothing comes out. I sink back onto the bed, sickened by the Quell and the mess on the floor. I sit and cry for a while, knowing I'm going to die this time. My family will be left alone for sure. Can my mother survive this? What will Prim do?
Prim. My eyes snap open. "However, because supporting victors as though they are your family is important in the Games' process, only those with a blood relation can volunteer for reaped victors." Prim might volunteer. I don't want her to; don't want her to give up her life for me. I can't let her do it. My mother won't, though, that I know- who else would take care of the sick and starving in the District? Because I know I need to explain to Prim why she cannot go in the Games, I shakily pull myself up and sit on the edge of the bed. I will myself to get on to my feet and shuffle out of the room. I find some cloth and soap and clean up the mess in the bedroom. I slowly, slowly gather the courage to walk back to my family. My family. The one that is being torn apart to entertain some alien snobs in the Capitol. This last thought gives me the boost I need to trudge the last few steps into our house. My mother and Prim stand in the kitchen, hugging each other and crying, when they notice me in the doorway.
"Oh, Katniss!" cries Prim.
That's all it takes. I run into their arms, and instead of being strong like I was at last year's reaping, all I do is sob and make no attempt to hide it. It's not like this is the real reaping, I tell myself, although that thought offers absolutely no comfort. After many minutes of this, I let go long enough to give them instructions for the reaping.
"Listen to me," I say. "Neither of you will volunteer for me. Do you understand? Mother, you have to stay and take care of the apothecary shop. Prim, I will not allow you to."
"But Katniss, I have to! You volunteered for me!" Prim gasps.
"No! Just no! Prim, there is no way you'll survive!" Harsh, but absolutely true. I have to make Prim understand that if she volunteers she dies. I want desperately to think otherwise, but she's still smaller than me. There is no way seasoned victors will go easy on her, and no way her kind nature will allow her to get anywhere in the Games.
"Prim, Katniss is right." My mother's voice falters on the last word. "You can't go." I can tell that my mother's heart is breaking as she says this. But I am glad she does. Maybe with the two of us convincing her not to volunteer, she will spare herself.
Prim chokes out another argument. "But Katniss is a victor! She shouldn't go back in!"
I have to agree with her there. And now that I take a hard look at Prim, I see that she in fact has grown up. She's not just taller, and leaner, too, but I can she in her determined face that through all of the things she's had to go through at such a young age, she's gotten a lot more mature. Now that I think about it, in a few months she's going to turn 14. Didn't Finnick Odair win the Games when he was 14? Of course, Finnick was like a god of war when he got that golden trident in his hand. What special skills does Prim have? Healing can't exactly kill others, and she couldn't hunt with me when I showed her how. But she knows plants as well as I do, so she could at least find food in the arena. I actually taught her to climb trees when I tried to teach her how to hunt, and she excelled at that. She could be safe in the arena, at least for a little while.
What am I thinking? Prim couldn't win even in the normal Hunger Games! With the victors, it would be even more brutal!
"Well?" Prim demands expectantly.
"No," I reply sternly. Then I turn around and march out the door. Prim won't convince me. I won't let her. So I slam the door shut, take a few shaky breaths and sit down on the steps. The air is warm and smells sweet. I can hear birds chirping in the trees that sit in our yard. I start crying again, and this time I'm not trying to stop.