A/N: hey guys! So, since going back and reading this story made me realize that I could have written it so much better, here it is! Embers, The Rewrite!
For those of you who read this the first time, I still suggest you read it. I am changing some things and I thought you'd want to know.
Summary: What if Katniss had another best friend, a girl, and she volunteered for Prim instead of Katniss? My version of THG. Peeta/OC
Rating: T (maybe M later on)
PLEASE NOTE: Some of the lines are taken directly from the book or the movie :)
Part One Chapter One: The Reaping
On the day of the Reaping, I am up before dawn.
This is when District Twelve looks peaceful. It's nice to see it like that. I look around for Katniss and Gale. Not seeing them anywhere, I sigh and head past the fence without them.
I run to the tree where we keep our hunting supplies. Hunting for our families has been our thing since before I can remember. But on Reaping days, everything is… still. When I reach the tree, I see that Katniss's bow is already gone. I smirk, grab mine and head out to find her. I'm not as good with a bow as she is, but I manage.
Ever since I was little, I've had impeccable hearing. So when I hear a twig snap, I know it's Gale. I turn around a tree and sneak up on him. I jab my hand into his back and he jumps a foot in the air. I see Katniss, next to him, lower her bow as a small doe runs off.
"Thanks," she says sarcastically, "I haven't seen a deer in a year," I stick my tongue out at her and she goes looking for the doe again. Gale and I hang back.
"I hate Reaping days," he says.
"Who doesn't?"
"The Capitol," he says, "How many times is your name in this year?" he asks. I think for a moment.
"Twenty," I say finally, "You?"
"Forty-two," He sighs and we walk into "our" clearing. This is where, Katniss says, we have our deep conversations.
"Sounds like the odds will most likely not be in your favor this year then," I say. He nods.
"What about Katniss?"
"Also twenty," I say. I hear Katniss's arrow go flying through the air. I heard a distinct thump as some bird hits the ground.
"Katniss can't get picked," he says. I raise an eyebrow, "You know why Lilac. Ever since her dad died and her mom checked out, she's had to take care of Prim,"
"I know," then we see Katniss carrying the bird towards us, and we cease our talk of her. We know she hates it when we talk about her.
"So, what did I miss?" she asks.
"Nothing," Gale and I say. Katniss looks like she doesn't believe us.
"Whatever," Gale reaches into his backpack and pulls out a loaf of bread. Katniss and I shoot up.
"Oh my god!" she squeals.
"Is that real?" I ask. He breaks us off a pice each and says
"Yes and don't even ask how much it cost," We hold up our bread and hit them together like cups; "May the odds be ever in your favor!" We all say, using terrible accents. We laugh and take bites. We have to laugh, as Katniss always says, to keep us from the alternative; which is being terrified.
The Reaping is worse this year. I don't know why, but it is. No one is speaking.
"Hey," Gale puts his hand on the small of my back as we walk. He is wearing a light blue button up shirt. He looks extremely uncomfortable.
"Yeah?" I ask.
"Good luck," he touches his lips to my temple before walking to his section. I sigh and stand next to Katniss. She looks terrified. Then again, I guess we all do. I don't pay attention to what the mayor says, but when Effie Trinket steps on stage, it's hard not to pay attention.
"Happy Hunger Games!" she says in her ridiculous accent, "And may the odds be ever in your favor," It's time for the drawing. Effie Trinket says as she always does "Ladies first!" she reaches into the girl's big glass bowl. I am suddenly struck with how easily my or Katniss' name could be pulled from that bowl. But it's not me, and it's not Katniss. It's Primrose Everdeen.
I look over at where Prim sits. I am terrified for her, as she begins the slow walk to the stage. Katniss looks frantic.
"I have to volunteer," she says, "Prim can't do this,"
"You can't!" I hurriedly say back, "If you leave, who will take care of her? Sure Gale and I will be here but you're her sister,"
"I have no choice! I-" I cover her mouth with my hand and shout "I VOLUNTEER!" she pulls my hand off and everyone looks at me.
"I volunteer as tribute," I say once more.
"Well," Effie says, filling the silence, "District Twele has its first volunteer," she smiled brightly for the cameras, "Come on up dear," she waggles her fingers at me. As I walk up, I look at Gale, who's giving me a pleading look. 'Don't do this,' he mouths. 'I have to,' I mouth back. I climb the steps of the stage.
"What's your name?" Effie asks.
"Lilac Evalesce," I say. Effie repeats my name into the mic. She directs me to stand to the side of the stage as she calls out the boy tribute. She smooths out the paper and calls the name loud and clear.
"Peeta Mellark!" I look out into the crowd. None of the boys has moved yet. Then someone nudges a blonde boy who reluctantly starts moving to the stage. I take a look at my "partner". He is tall, but not Gale tall. His blue eyes shine with hope, even in his situation. He reaches the stage and looks into my eyes, holding them, brown into blue. That's when I recognize him.
There was a time, a few years back, when Katniss and I still had hope. Before our fathers died in the mine accident. Before we had any chance of being in The Games. We had all the hope and energy that two ten year olds could. This was back when my father used to take monthly trips to the bakery.
My family wasn't rich, not by Capitol standards, but we managed. And once a month, my dad would take me to buy fresh bread.
Whenever we would walk to the bakery, we would try to make up songs. My dad couldn't sing for the life of him, especially not compared to Mr. Everdeen. He couldn't carry a tune if it had a handle, but he was fantastic at poetry, so lyrics came easy. He would make ridiculous rhymes like "anteaters" and "peacekeepers". I don't remember how he did it, but he always did.
Then when we arrived at the bakery, he'd open the door and say "Ladies first,". I would try to walk in and he'd always make the same joke. "I said ladies first."
The smell was my favorite part. I felt like the smell of the freshly baked bread and cakes would just pick me up and spin me around. Sometimes I found my self rotating, like the earth on its axis, just trying to take everything in.
Dad would talk to the woman behind the counter, ordering a loaf of bread. She would yell something incomprehensible into the back, and a small blonde boy would bring out a bag.
One day, the woman said it would take a little longer. My dad said he didn't mind waiting, but told me I could go play outside if I was careful. I pushed open the door and ran out into the sunshine. There was a crash and someone crying out. It had come from behind the bakery. I rushed around, passing the pig pen and into the back. The blonde boy I usually saw bring out the bread was lying on the ground, some kind of gardening tool broken a foot away. He was clutching his arm right below his shoulder. I ran over to him.
"Are you okay?" I asked. He looked up at me. He had blue eyes. Really blue eyes. He nodded quickly. I poked the hand that was covering his arm. He hissed, "No you're not. Let me see," I said. He moved his hand away. There was a gash about a centimeter deep in his arm.
"Oh that's nothing," I said. Without I second thought, I stood up and ripped off a strip of my dress from the bottom. I wrapped it around his arm, tying it to secure it into place. I stood up and helped him to his feet.
"Thanks," he said shyly. I shrugged.
"No problem," I smiled. He blushed a little and looked down at his feet. He suddenly reached down and picked a yellow dandelion from the grass. He held out to me. I raised an eyebrow with as many sarcastic comments building up as a ten year old could possibly have, but took it from him.
"Lilac!" My dad's voice came from the front. I whipped around to see him waving at me. "Time to go home," I nodded and turned back to ask the boy's name, but he had already gone inside.
When I caught up with my dad he noticed the flower in my hand.
"Where'd you get that?" He asked. I thought about telling the story, but decided not to.
"Found it on the ground,"
But I never forgot his eyes. Those blue eyes. The ones that were currently boring holes in my face.
"Ladies and gentlemen our District Twelve tributes!" I glanced once more at Peeta to find he was still looking.
Let the games begin.
A/N: so... *hides in corner* is it better than last time? Please don't kill me. I wanted to try again. And yes I am going to be changing a few story elements as well. Anyway. R&R!