A/N- This is the first part of a series please review and tell me what you think. Thanks- Alice
As I stand in the midst of a crowd of fifteen year olds, in a pale yellow dress with a white ribbon holding up my copper colored ringlets, I think about what would've happened if Katniss and Peeta weren't killed by the Capitol, just five years after their double win. The Hunger Games wouldn't still be here and we still wouldn't be sacrificing children for the Capitol's entertainment. Although it has been almost twenty years since that, nothing has changed. District eleven has only one victor, Etna Notfrey, who is a good looking woman in her early thirties, but stress has aged her. There is a new escort, Fidelia Scorne, with hair that is not quite pink, but not quite red and piled high on her head. She is very short with green eyes and lips that are an unnatural shade of red. Her skin is very pale and she stands out in District eleven. Fidelia is going over the history of Panem in her thick Capitol accent. Again I zone out and think back to the night before. My father had come back to our little house, drunk and angry. I had already sent my little brothers to our neighbors to keep them safe. It was just me at home. He found me in the kitchen and struck me across the face. The force of it sends me sprawling to the ground, but I don't cry out, it would just make him hit me harder. He kicks me in a weak spot on my stomach. In extreme pain I let a small cry escape my lips. Terrified, I get up and begin to run for my life. Each step sending jolts of excruciating pain through me. If I don't find a place to hide soon enough, he'll begin to beat me even worse. He knows all of my usual ones and I'm running out of the creativity to find new ones. I turn a corner and practically run into him. I scream and begin to cry.
"Hey are you okay? You're not looking too good." Someone says, their voice pulling me out of my thoughts. I realize that I'm breathing hard, and shaking. I force myself to look over at the owner of the voice and nod.
"Maya Prentice." Fidelia chirps, pulling my name from a big glass ball. I clench my hands at my sides as the crowd splits to let me through. I walk up there slowly, willing myself not to cry. I'm pretty good at this from all the practice I've had from my father. From what I've learned; crying=no good. When I get up there I shake Fidelia's dainty hand. When she calls for volunteers, nobody speaks. I look out over the crowd and see faces of pity and sorrow, those people know how I get abused nearly every night and think that this is just one more terrible thing in my life, and crying faces, those people know me and care for me. The boy tribute is called: Levi Morgan. The boy that walks up is sixteen or seventeen with blue-black hair and very tan skin. He is much taller than me, but nearly everyone is as I'm so short. I don't know him very well, but I've seen him in the orchards in harvest time. When he comes onto the stage Fidelia talks some more and then we shake hands. We are taken into custody and shoved roughly into a building. Levi and I are pushed into neighboring rooms.
"One hour." The Peacekeeper says gruffly, slamming the door. There is a perfectly good chair a few feet away, but instead I collapse onto the shaggy carpet, barely sitting up. I have one hour to say goodbye to family and friends. The first people to come are my dad, mom, and two little brothers, Liam and Heath. My brothers come and curl up beside me, each clenching one of my hands in their tiny fists. My mother comes over to me, attempting to embrace me. I pull away in disgust.
"I don't want you near me." I growl at her. "You don't do anything to protect us from him." I nod toward my dad. "He comes home every night and beats me. If I didn't hide Liam and Heath then he'd beat them too!" I scream, now I'm standing and advancing toward them. "And what do you do? Nothing!" My mother is cowered against my father, who slaps me. Shocked, I stagger back, but I'm too furious to feel any pain.
"Don't talk to your mother that way." He growls menacingly. I glare at him.
"I wouldn't consider her a mother, since she does nothing to protect her children from you!" I retort. He probably would've slapped me again, even harder, if the Peacekeeper hadn't appeared saying our time was up. With fury in his eyes he walks out.
"Liam. Heath. Let's go." He commands. They follow him and my mother out like lost puppies. I sit down in the chair, a hand on my stinging cheek. The next person to come in is my next door neighbor, Mavis Sigmund, a sweet old lady who I normally take the boys to to hide. She comes over and hugs me tightly.
A/N-Please review. Did you know that the youngest pope was 11 years old? :D