I do not own the Hunger Games or any of its' characters. Enjoy!
"Let the Seventy-Four Annual Hunger Games…BEGIN!" I hear Caesar Flickerman exclaim on the television nearby. I feel my stomach drop the same way it has every year I hear the words. Because I know those words are the death sentence to two members of my district. Yes, both will most certainly die, as they do every year. District Twelve has only had one winner in years. I wasn't even alive for his Games. But I know that he hasn't done much to save the inhabitants of my district since he won and became a mentor. I said this to my mother once, but she covers my mouth and tells me not to judge him. "It must be hard to mentor children who weak, compared to the Careers. He knows he can do nothing to save them" she says as she pulls me into her. I know that I never want to be chosen for the Games. But it's not up to me, is it?
I don't know the two that have been chosen this year. Well of course I know them. We go to the same school. Everyone in District 12 goes to the same school. I just don't know them very well. But my heart still breaks for them, especially since the girl volunteered so her sister wouldn't have to go. I look over at my little brother. He is calmly sitting on the floor, playing with a makeshift toy. We don't have the money for toys so he plays with what he can. I smile at him and he smiles back, in the endearing way that only a child could. Could I volunteer for him? Could I be that brave? I don't know. I am afraid at the real answer.
As a young child, I used to have nightmares after watching the Games. I used to imagine myself going to school and then, as we line up to go into school, at lunch time, in the middle of class, my neighbor turns to me with a knife, an arrow, a heavy object, and kills me. My screams used to wake up neighbors three houses away. I have grown out of those dreams. I have gotten used to the violence. It seems almost natural to me. I hate that. I dread the Games. They are always the same. One survives, from one, two, or four, and everyone else is left broken. We are all affected by the Games, even if we don't go in. Part of us never comes out. We lose a piece of ourselves every time someone goes in. I hate the Games. They only teach us violence, hatred, sadness –nothing good.
But somehow, I realize this year is different. Maybe it is because Katniss volunteered. I watch her in awe. She seems strong and brave; she takes all of District 12 with her in the Games. We are strong and brave….well, we could be, couldn't we? I don't know. I don't know much of anything. I'm only sixteen. But sometimes, that feels old to me.
Every day I watch these Games, though, they feel more different than the other ones. First, Peeta claims he loves her, then once they step into the Games, he joins with the Careers. She joins forces with a little girl. This is powerful to me. She ultimately can't save her. In the end, even if it's the two of them, one of them has to go. But she still protects her. She even cries when she dies. I tear up when I see this. But I push away the tears. You can't get too invested in the Games, you see. It's easy to lose yourself that way.
Then it turns out Peeta joined the Careers to save her. Wow. Talk about a "grand gesture". Then, the way they look at each other in the cave. The way the kiss and hold and care for each other. Each would die for the other in turn. My eyes are now glued to the television. I cannot seem to get close enough. I inch closer every second. I am hanging on every word, every moment. I am intrigued, enthralled, even…jealous. I want someone to love me like that, I think. I want someone to love me so deeply that I can feel it all the way in my toes when they are miles away. I want someone to love me so much, it hurts. I want someone to love me so deeply that they would die for me. I want to love someone so deeply that I would die for them. I just want someone to love me.
I look over at my parents on the couch. They look happy. They must love each other, right? They have two kids. They have stayed together. They must love. But maybe there isn't love in this horrid world. Maybe there can't be love here. Maybe there is only necessity. They needed each other to survive this wretched world where children die 23 at a time at the hand of another child, in the hand of the government. I know these are words that I can scarcely think, let alone say. I could be shot on site for even muttering these thoughts to anyone. But to me, in my mind, I must be safe. Is love even a possibility here? Or does it only exist to Katniss and Peeta, children, because they cannot both survive this. They cannot both come out alive. One of them, if not both, has to die. Then what will happen to the other? Perhaps the other will move on and find another to love. Or perhaps the loss of love will metaphorically kill the other, like it seems to have done to Mrs. Everdeen, once the town healer. Perhaps, here, love with always die.
This deeply saddens me. I want to believe in love. I'm sixteen. But how can I? How can I when I see all this death and destruction everywhere? Even in the midst of this love story, there is tragedy. Is that how love between two people is? If it is, I don't want that. But I know that I want something. I can feel it in the deepest parts of my humanity. I long for something. But what?
I stay awake late that night after the cave. Thinking. Thinking about love and death. Two things that shouldn't go together, but do. In this world. Maybe death is too strong of a word. But at this time of night, I can't come up with a better one.
As the days pass, I continue to watch what I now consider to be the story of Katniss and Peeta. I know that it will inevitably end with the end of the Games. I know the story. Neither can live while the other survives. I know it. But I am engrossed in them. I find myself searching for love. I don't know where to look. I try to find a boy that will peak my interest. But none of them do. Not really. Not in the way that Peeta seems to for Katniss. I can't seem to find a boy that makes me want to run into his arms every time I see him. Not in District 12 anyway and I can't go anywhere else.
I begin to give up searching for love in another boy. So I try to find it in my family and friends. That seems easier. It is clearly there. We care for each other. My parents have cared for my brother and I since we were born. They feed us before they eat. That is the closest I can get to sacrifice, I know. But it still doesn't feel what I am searching for, since I've had it all along. I'm not trying to brag or anything, but I have always felt the love of my family. I am probably one of the few who can say that at 16. But they have always supported me. They have always tried to help me. They have always done what they could for me. But again, somehow it is not what I am longing for.
I am confused now. I have looked to the people closest to me and others and yet I can't seem to find what I am looking for. I don't know where else to look. There isn't anywhere else to look. There is nowhere else. Does that mean my love lies outside our District? If it does, I am screwed. I will be forever loveless…
Suddenly, it dawns on me. Maybe the reason I cannot find love outside myself is because it is not supposed to be found outside myself. Maybe I am supposed to find it inside myself. Maybe I am supposed to love myself first.
I have never thought of myself as pretty. How can I? I live in District 12. We don't have the best clothes and we are often dirty from the coal mines, even if we don't mine. But maybe it is time to change my thoughts. Who is better for the job (of loving me) than me? No one. I smile. But then I frown. How do I love myself? I don't know. I think for a moment. Maybe I just must accept myself for who I am. It may take some time. But I have plenty of time for that. At least until the next reaping. I smile again, in spite of myself. It is enough time. And I will do it.
To my surprise, they somehow both survive. This gives me even more hope. Not for a love like theirs, but for a love like mine. A love where I love myself. I sigh. Be brave, I think to myself. I can do it.
And I will. And I do.
Hey all! Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. The story idea came to me today as I watched The Hunger Games on ABC Family. I was feeling kind of lovesick, I guess, because I wanted a love like theirs, Katniss and Peeta. But of course I realized it was more important to love myself first and I just had to write about it. I hope you remember that too J - K2gal615