A/N: hey everyone! This is a fanfic based on the number one hunger games forum, The Hunger Games Roleplay! So basically, this is a story about my character, Aria Shaster, district 2 tribute in the 123rd hunger games…and special thanks to Michela (AndItsGonnaBeTotallyAwesome) for creating the title!
Aria's POV (age 5)
My name is Aria Shaster. I am five years old and my big sister, Lydia, is about to kill someone on TV. I have no clue why though, but my parents love watching her kill people.
They say she's playing a game where you have to kill people from all over Panem to win. It's called the Hunger Games. For my birthday this year, my mommy and daddy bought me a knife. They said "As long as you have a knife, you will always be the victor."
The next day, I learned how to throw a knife. It's a lot of fun! It's like throwing a ball in gym class, except this time, it's a knife, so it's super shiny and pointy and awesome!
Finally, a week after my birthday, my sister came back from playing the game that she played on TV.
I ran to hug her when she walked through the door.
"LYDIA! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" I screamed.
"I missed you too Aria," she replied with a smile.
"Guess what! Guess what! Guess what!" I say.
"What?" she questions.
"I got a knife for my birthday! And I'm learning how to throw it too!" I announce to her.
She turned to Mommy and Daddy and said, "I see you've started her early."
Mommy and Daddy nodded.
"I'm going to take a nap is that alright little sis?" Lydia asked.
"Okay!" I say before she leaves the room.
Daddy walks up to me.
"Do you know what's going to happen when you're eighteen?" he asks.
"I'm going to win the hunger games like Lydia! And kill people with my knives," I say.
"Good girl. Now go take a nap before training," he says.
"Okay!" I say and go to my bedroom to sleep.
When I sleep, I can't stop thinking about the hunger games and how Lydia killed all of those people… Maybe that could be me that kills everyone one day! That would be amazing!
2 years later… (Age 7)
It's been two years since I got my first knife. Every day I always go to training and throw knives. Bigger people throw spears and swords… but I have to wait until I am nine years old to throw a spear or sword.
Either way, I still love my knives.
I was ranked number one in my training group and I just got promoted to the eight year old group for knife training.
My parents make me train every single day so that I can be the best and win the hunger games just like Lydia. They say that training is good for you. That training is good for the soul and relaxes you. For me, training is just something that I enjoy doing. It's my favorite part of the day! It means that I can win the hunger games when I'm eighteen!
I take a small knife and throw it and watch it hit the middle of the target.
"Good job Aria!" my trainer, Aidan, says.
"Thank you! I'm going to win the hunger games when I turn 18!" I announce.
"I know you will!" Aidan says.
I smile and my daddy picks me up from training to go home.
"So how did training go today Aria?" my daddy asks.
"Really well! Aidan says I'm going to win the games when I'm 18!" I say.
"I know you will!" Daddy says. "You've had a lot of training and you'll have a lot more by the time you're eighteen so you will win!"
"Thank you Daddy!" I exclaim.
3 years later (age 10)
I am now ten years old. I am working on throwing spears and swords, but I still throw knives. I have eight more years until I win the hunger games.
Whenever I walk into training, everybody knows my name and that I'm going to win. The other kids in my training group still haven't realized that I'm better than them, but they will when I win.
Today was my worst day ever. You see, I was trying to throw a spear, but then I got distracted by some really cute guy, and I missed the target by a little bit. I was off by about an inch!
When my dad found out about this, he was very angry.
"ARIA HOW COULD YOU? YOU WERE OFF BY ONE INCH! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE PERFECT LIKE LYDIA! NOT THE SCREWUP OF THIS FAMILY!" my dad yells.
"I'm sorry daddy!" I say and start to cry.
"Then why were you off? Lydia was never off," he says.
"Because there was this really cute guy and…" I begin.
He cuts me off, "shut up and go perfect those spear skills of yours. Don't talk to me until they're perfect."
I leave him to go to Lydia's house in Victor's Village. It's far away from home, but I'm fast and I can do it.
When I arrive, she opens the door.
"Aria, what are you doing here?" she asks.
"I'm not perfect and daddy doesn't love me anymore!" I announce.
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"Well I was spear throwing in training today, and there was this cute guy and… I got distracted and missed the target by an inch! And now daddy hates me because I'm not perfect like you!" I explain.
"Aria, it was one target. You're still the best knife thrower!" she says.
"But if I'm not the best spear thrower, Dad's going to hate me forever!" I say.
"He can't hate you forever," Lydia says.
"Yes he can!" I exclaim.
"If you hate Dad so much, why don't you go to the games when you're 12?"
"I don't hate him! He hates me for not being perfect like you!"
"Trust me Aria, I am far from perfect."
"Yes you are! You won the games!"
"And did you not see me kill my boyfriend in the games?"
"You killed your boyfriend? Why?"
"Because I had to."
"You didn't have to! You can't just say that you love someone and then kill them the next!"
"Just go home Aria. You're too young to understand."
"Fine then! Be a bitch to me!"
"What did you just say?"
"You're being a bitch!"
"Leave. NOW!"
I run home as fast as I can to escape Lydia. I sneak into my room and fall asleep.
1 year later (age 11)
It's been a year since my first fight with Lydia (she hates me still) and my dad is finally talking to me again. But when he does, it's always about training.
"Aria, that was great!" my dad said after I threw my spear perfectly.
"Thanks dad!" I say.
"Now let's go for something a little more challenging," he says and hands me a bow and arrow. I've never used them before, but I'm sure I can do it.
I take it from him and attempt to use it, missing the target completely.
"Aria what was that? That was the worst I've ever seen!" he says and slaps me in the face really hard.
"Daddy! It was my first time! You can't blame me," I say.
"Who held the bow and arrow?" he asks.
"Me," I answer.
"So therefore it is your fault. Now I am going to leave you here and when I come back, you better be perfect," he says and leaves the training center.
I stay there and shoot arrows at the targets. No matter what, I'm never perfect. I need to be perfect before Dad gets back! If I'm not, who knows what he'll do to me?
I take an arrow, position it on a bow, and let it fly toward my target. It misses it slightly. I'm off by an inch.
No. no. no! I must be perfect!
I take a deep breath and try again. This time, the arrow is only a quarter of an inch off.
Still. Not. Perfect. Enough.
I try for the millionth time today. This time, it actually hits the target.
But only after a bazillion tries! I am not going to have a bazillion arrows in the arena!
I spend the next 3 hours shooting arrows perfectly at targets. That's when my dad finally returns.
"Finally you're perfect Aria!" he says.
"Thanks," I say.
"Now let's go home, mom's making your favorite, macaroni and cheese!" Dad says.
Macaroni and cheese isn't my favorite. Pizza is. Way to go Dad…
"Okay!" I say and leave the training center to go home.
Honestly, I don't think I'll ever be perfect. If being able to use a weapon counts as being perfect, then what do I have to live for? If my beauty and grades mean nothing to anyone, then why do I try in school and am naturally pretty? If being able to use a bow makes me perfect, then why did I learn how to throw a knife? Or a spear? Or use a sword? Or do hand-to-hand combat? Perfect is a difficult word to understand… but supposedly it describes me only when I use a bow…
3 years later (age 14)
It's been 3 years and I still can't wrap my head around what perfect means. Every single time I do something like Lydia, I'm considered "perfect". Is perfect really just being exactly like Lydia? If so, then at school, why do they encourage people to be themselves?
Now that I'm 14 and I've been eligible reaping age for 2 years now, the training is more intense and dad's punishments are harsher. My mom does nothing because she'll get hurt if she tries to save me. Maybe everything would be better if I was reaped…
Now when I walk around anywhere, people are like "hey! You look like Lydia Shaster!" and nobody even knows my name anymore. It's like I've fallen into this trap as I grow older that forces me to be exactly like Lydia in every way. I always have to have the same hairstyle as her, the same clothing style as her, the same weapon skills as her, even the same makeup as her. According to Dad, the more I am like Lydia, the more perfect I am.
But isn't being Lydia's clone, not being me?
My name is Aria Shaster. Not Lydia. Who am I? You may ask. I honestly have no clue…
A/N: That was just a prologue! Chapter two is yet to come! Review!