|Author's Note| So, this is my first fanfic in forever XD I know, the stuggles are real. Just to clarify quick, MistyMockingjay (The main character) is actually my minecraft, and being the Minecraft, The Hunger Games fangirl I am, I'm excited to be writing a Survival Games Fanfic! Ironically, I haven't been playing the Survival Games lately on Minecraft, but I'm sure that'll change now! Reviews are MUCH appreciated!
"Misty!" Cold fire spat flames at the young girl, causing a startled jump from her.
Great, she rolls her eyes, arms clutched across her chest as the hostile voice keeps barking at her. She makes her way through the only narrow hall of the rickety old wooden shack. The girl freezes up, tensed as her attention is snatched by the middle-aged woman who sits down in a vintage dusty recliner, her frail body nearly anything but the bones that jeer out from left and right. The woman was ill-stricken, and the two young men with their heads bowed respectfully down, sitting on the sofa, are clearly trembling.
"Take a seat, sweetheart." The woman points to a chair across from her with her bony finger as she sits up to grab her cup of tea, still steaming up in her face.
The girl obeys her, carefully taking the seat, fingers wrapping around the handles that were provided by the shopsman. She bites her lip, hiding deep down the fear she had always had, hiding the secrets that lied in the obyss of a teenaged girl of her age. Despite her attitude that once fueled her for the day, the moment she walked into the room with her friends and family gathered, she could tell something was up. It was the day. It was the day everyone fathomed and tried to avoid, but it was the cold truth.
The woman taps on her cermaic cup, sweat dripping down her narrow face as she avoids all eye-contact with her, her own daughter. One of the young men look up towards me, blue-gray eyes staring into me with the burden we all knew I had to carry. The woman draws in a deep breath, causing me to snap back over.
"Mother, I'll be fine, I promise." I stand slowly, only to have everyone else stand up with me.
She just shakes her head, sniffling, "You don't understand. Ever since you were 12, I've always worried about losing my only daughter. My only child. Just because you're 16 doesn't make you invincible, Misty. Immortaility," She huffs with a bitter-sweet smile, "Immortaility isn't a thing."
The girl looks away from her mother, tears coming to her eyes. I never asked to be born, she thinks to herself, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stands there, head bowed down as she clutches herself. All I wanted was a peaceful life here by the ocean. No, that will never happen now as they murder their own brothers, sisters, friends and family out there. A sickening feeling washes over her as she cups a hand to her mouth, starting to sob harder.
"Mist..." One of the men reaches his arm across her shoulder, but she pulls away, turning to him with a new light in her eyes.
"No!" She wails at the man, "Just because you're 19 now doesn't mean they won't take everything and everyone away from you!" She snaps.
The man winces, "Which is why I'm not letting them take my friend away from me."
"Oh yeah, and how are you going to do that, Cater?" She glares at him, "You can't do anything to persaude them to not take me, they're all heartless freaks! Sick, ill-hearted, twisted..."
The man puts a hand on her shoulder, the leather jacket rags covering his musky shirt swaying the tassels. Calming down a bit, Misty just averts her eyes from Cater and starts towards the hall, stopping for a moment.
"I need to get ready for the Reaping, if you mind."
She didn't have to turn around to sense the heat rising on the man's cheeks as well as the cringe at 'Reaping'. It was a nasty word everyone dreaded. Reaping day was the day they were picked. It was the day that, despite the fancy scraps they had to wear, the 'heroes', sort to speak, were chosen to represent their district at the Games. Reaping. The rancid odor of rotting flesh and newly spilled blood followed. The gory sceens of the replayed actions followed. The crows that would mock their hideous calling followed.
"I-I understand. If you don't mind, I'll still be watching you aside if I can. If anything happens to you, remember I've got your back."
Tears cascade down the girl's face, staining her white, or what seemed white, shirt. Relaxed hands turn to balled up fists as she holds in her breath, struggling on what to say next. Words were caught in her throat, unable to thaw out. She turns a bit, but doesn't dare look at the man. A swallow gets stuck at the bottom of her throat as tears quickly continue to fall down her face.
"No matter what happens to me, will you always stand at my side?" She utters out in chokes and sobs.
Footsteps slide over, soft and gentle. Two arms bring Misty into an embrace, her face buried in the man's chest as she lets out heavy sobs. The man runs his roughed up hands through the girl's golden waves.
"Chivalry will never be dead, no matter how old." He whispers softly.
The two pull out of the embrace as the girl sheepishly backs away down the hall. Diamond armor suits you too well, she thinks to herself, Your chivalry is appreciated. She watches as the man slowly makes his way to the front screendoor. It creaks open against the wooden slabs, and draws back with a slam. With a heavy heart, Misty, slumped over, takes slow steps towards the washroom. If I'm chosen, will I ever even get to tell him the truth?