The Forgotten Victor
A/N: This is my first Hunger Games fanific. I just saw Catching Fire last night and you could say I was somewhat inspired by the lack of mention for the District Nine tributes. I will right a new chapter depending on review and I am open to constructive feedback and ideas. Viva la Hunger Games!
Minastauriel
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games but I do have a younger brother with a ravenous apetite…
Prologue
The day of the reaping began as any other for the orphans of District Nine. Sancha, the horrible woman who ran the boarding house stormed into the girl's dormitory with the fury of a bush-fire screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs.
"GET OUT OF BED YOU LAZY CORN-WEAVELS! THE CAPITOL WAITS FOR NOONE, ESPECIALLY THE LIKES OF YOU MOOCHERS!"
I swear the only reason she took the job of orphan-keeper was the portion of food accorded to her instead of a living, much of which was intended for us but we orphans never received a single bite of that food.
District Nine was responsible for all of the grain production for the Capitol. Wheat, Oats, Barley, Rice, Corn… we grew it all and the supply demand was always so great that every hand was needed, hence the reason the orphan house was founded.
A lot of us in the home were from poorer families. Grain theft was tantamount to treason but our parents stole the food anyway to feed their children. Those who were caught were executed by firing squad immediately. No trail, no consideration for the why but in Nine, that's just the way things had always been.
My parents had been killed by peacekeepers when I was seven. Fifteen now, this was my fourth year in the reaping and we always followed the same routine. Every reaping day, Sancha would storm in screaming at us before dropping the standard bucket of Abscondi by the dorm room exit before storming away to stuff her face with more misappropriated food.
As the eldest girl in the dorm, it was my job to ensure that every girl was doused in the putrid mix of beetle juice and nut grounds before washing to ensure that the normal platinum of our hair was concealed in a murky brown hue. The brew stung our scalp and some of the younger children were brought to tears by its toxicity but it did serve one purpose. In the event that our tributes survived the cornucopia, we would hide, our startling locks covered allowing us to remain concealed indefinitely. Our districts only victor had won using this trickery and so we had used it ever since. If there was even a remote chance that a child could return from the games it was pounced upon. Like I said, every hand counted.
After Sancha had so eloquently stated, the girls slowly began to awaken themselves and line up to receive treatment. I knew that my friend Cameron would be doing the same for the boys in his dorm. Every time I applied the Abscondi on one of my friends I winced. None of us deserved this. The constant fear and mistreatment by the Capitol and the peacekeepers made all of us miserable yet every time we went through this, my friends would thank me.
"Thank you Evelyn. Odds be with you" they would say before going about their preparations.
All together we would go to the reaping, my friends and I all holding hands in silent support as our district escort read the names. We prayed fervently that none of us would be sacrificed, that none of us would be taken as prey.
But on this reaping day of the 71st Hunger Games the unthinkable had happened. According to the usual procedure, our escort; a portly woman dressed up somewhat like a great purple bird in feathers and silk told the tributes what an honour it was to be selected to compete for our district, the video was played and the legal obligations read.
The first name was pulled, a merchant boy; Nathaniel Connors. I breathed a sigh of relief. Cameron hadn't been picked. We had known each other since were infants, our parents had been friends. Cameron Lyall was my best friend and I was more than ecstatic that he was safe.
After Nathaniel ascended the stage I was pulled back into reality. The girl tribute had not yet been selected, and then the shrill voice of our escort rang across the town square.
"Evelyn Fanning"
My bubble shattered.
