HEYYYYYY! Notalone87 in the HOUSE. SO, as I mentioned in my other story, "A Different Kiss", this IS a hunger games - glee fic! Just some quick notes that ARE IMPORTANT TO READ SO DON'T SKIP IT PLEASE!
1. Finn & Kurt are real brother's in this. Not step brothers, they were both born born from Kurt's mom & dad.
2. This is ONLY rated "T" for possible violence in future chapters. It will be no worse the "The Hunger Games" Or "Glee". Most likely, it will usually be at a K+ level, but I made it T just to be safe.
OKAZIES! So now that we have that done, enjoy the story, and please review!
:D
"Ten. Just ten." Kurt continued to remind himself to keep calm. The bread he was chewing might as well have been paper. "Ten slips. Is that enough out of thousands to get picked?" Kurt thought compulsively. He began to gnaw on his trembling lips, that began to bleed instantly. Kurt knew no one who would volunteer for him if he got picked. Not even Finn. The unspoken truth was, family only went as far as life. When death was in the situation, it was every man for themselves.
Kurt already had laid out a presentable ensemble for him to wear to the reaping. It was a baby blue button up shirt made out of material softer than anything short of satin. His slacks were a sickly olive green, something that made Kurt wince, but they were his only acceptable pants. His others were ripped or peppered with stains.
Kurt combed his chestnut wavy hair to the side so that the left side of his forehead was exposed. His whole body was scattered with scars, years of hard labor had taken a toll on him. Kurt was only 18 years old and his hairline was already receding.
Finn hesitantly walked into Kurt's room. He looked respectable enough, with his broad shoulders embraced with a wide, navy blue shirt. Kurt looked down at Finn's shoes and frowned. They were tattered, with peeling leather coating and shredding laces. Kurt became even more sad realizing there was no alternative. Even though they lived in District 8, the clothing district, they lived in the rural outskirts of the District, right near the border of District 9. So whatever clothes they got were the scraps they could scrounge up for little to no money. Saying that the Hummel's were poor was an understatement. The best meal Kurt had ever had was a thin soup with rotten mushrooms. He had felt gorged that night.
"You look alright." Kurt said quietly to Finn. Finn nodded dismissively. The truth was, neither of them looked as good as the others were going to. The never had. But they had scarcely any energy, time, or reason to care about their appearance. If it didn't put food in their mouths, it had a low precedence to Kurt. Finn had the same mindset, unless it involved Quinn. Quinn was the only person that Finn would truly do anything for. She was beautiful. One of the only beautiful people Kurt had ever seen. She had wavy, shoulder- length blonde hair. A small frame that she always boasted with tight shirts. A smile that could effortlessly melt butter. Hypnotizing hazel eyes with seducing, thick lashes comparable to a curtain. Yes, Kurt could definitely see the appeal. But, of course, she had no effect on Kurt. No girl had an effect on Kurt. But this was a secret.
Burt walked into the room, wearing a tattered denim shirt and sweatpants. Since Burt didn't qualify for the reaping, there was no reason for him to dress for the camera's- if God forbid that was his fate.
"Alright, boy's. It's 11:30. It's a twenty- minute walk, so we should get going." Burt said, voice soft, yet jagged.
Both the boys agreed silently. The dirt path heading to the square where the reaping was held was an unattractive route, but it was their only choice.
The walk was much too quick, and before he knew it, Kurt was standing in a tight space in between two meaty boys, fists clenched. Kurt's already snow-white complexion grew paler as the escort of District 8, a man named Will Schuester, stepped up to the mahogany podium.
"Welcome, everyone! I know you're all eager to start another year of fun, so let's get started! Ladies first."
Kurt was sickened by the way the capitol people called the Hunger Games "fun." Ever since Kurt's mom had died, Kurt had become especially sensitive to the subject of death. The Hunger Games was a constant reinforcement of this pain.
Will Schuester went up to the girls reaping ball, lazily pulling out a white strip of paper, the color of the slip comparable to Kurt's skin. He pulled it out as if the fate of the person's name he was holding wasn't about to be involuntarily decided.
"Quinn Fabray? Is there a Quinn Fabray here?" Will Schuester said in a clear, unmistakable voice.
Quinn stood out among the girls like a piece of gold in a pile of rocks. Her face had become a tightened, colorless grimace. She didn't cry, instead, she put on an expressionless mask. A disguise. She walked up to the stage in firm, fixed strides.
Her body had gone so stiff; Kurt wouldn't be surprised if they found her frozen in an hour.
"I volunteer as tribute!" Finn yelled suddenly. Kurt jerked his head so violently he thought it would snap. Kurt always knew Finn would take a bullet for Quinn, so this wasn't surprising, in an odd way.
"Well, you're a very brave young man! But I'm afraid a boy cannot legally volunteer for a girl. If you're so eager, wait for the boys name to be called. Maybe it will be yours!" Will said restlessly. Finn sunk back into his row, looking as if somebody has just killed him and every fiber of his being.
"Well! Haven't we gotten a real stunner this year for the girls! And some brave contenders for the boys!" Will Schuester said cheerfully. Will excitedly bounded over to the boys reaping bowl, delicately feeling around the bowl before ripping one out of the ball excitedly.
Kurt could scarcely breath. This was his last year; if he could get through the next 30 seconds, he would never have to worry about his name being called in a crisp, clear voice. Never again would he have to worry about people in colorful outfits cheering to see him killed.
Never.
The man at the podium elegantly opened the slip of paper.
"Kurt Hummel?"
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