Hello! This is my first fanfiction, so I'm sorry if it sucks. There will be more chapters to this. Originally, it was going to be a oneshot, but then I got inspired and decided to expand it. But enough of me talking. Here's the story!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I am not Suzanne Collins and do not own The Hunger Games.
It's time for one young boy and one young girl to be sent to their deaths. This is the reaping. Where our district's escort, Effie Trinket, draws a slip from a bowl containing thousands of girl's names, and one slip from a bowl containing thousands of boys'. The odds must be in your favor.
Prim, my little sister, is worried sick. She has just turned twelve. Her name has been entered into that big reaping ball. Prim's name is one of thousands. I reassure her by telling her this, adding on that the odds are in her favor and she won't be reaped. But to be honest, I think I'm worried sick too. I can't bear the thought of little Prim going into the brutal games. I'd do anything to keep Effie from pulling out her one slip.
Prim's got her hand encased in mine, and I give her petite hand a squeeze. We have to break contact, however, as we naturally segregate into groups by age and gender. I'm with some other girls my age, but no chatter is being attempted. First because everyone's too nervous, some to the point of nausea, and second because I'm just not a very social girl. I look over through the crowd, and immediately make eye contact with my hunting partner and very close friend, Gale.
Gale. I'm not sure I could bear watching him be slaughtered either, even though he's not near small or meek like Prim. We've become so close; it would almost be the same. Gale, however, I couldn't volunteer for. He's a boy. Gale is eighteen, so this is his last reaping. The odds have been in his favor up until now. I just hope they don't mess everything up.
Effie has begun talking in her funny Capitol accent Gale and I always mock in the woods. We must listen to a speech, the same given every year. It's about the rebellion, the Dark Days, and how the "glorious" Hunger Games came to be. Finally, it's time for our tributes to be reaped.
The air is almost unbearably filled with feelings. Anxiety. Nausea. Nervousness. Nobody wants to be reaped. In our district, people thrown into the arena are already dead. District 12 has had no victor in twenty-four years. Effie's hand is in the girl's reaping bowl. She has plucked out one slip, and moves back to the microphone to read the name of the girl whose fate is to be deceased. I hold my breath, and clear myself of any weakness. Effie speaks.
The name that slips through her puffed-up lips is Primrose Everdeen.
No! No no no! My brain and heart scream in unison. Prim looks on the verge of tears as strong, sturdy Peacekeepers lead her to the stage. They're almost there, too, until my thoughts snap me back. That's my Prim. She won't go into the arena. She can't. She'll die!
Effie's heels are clicking away to the Justice Building. I screech and run out of the crowd, hitting at the two Peacekeepers that approach me, trying to fight my way to the stage, to Prim. But they're much stronger than I am. They each grab an arm, almost cutting off the circulation to my hands. As they pull me away, all I can think to myself is, how could I fail Prim?
And there you have it! Obviously I'm new to FanFiction, so if this comes out formatted really weird, I apologize. Also, let me know if this chapter was too short or whatever. Reviews are greatly appreciated!