Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. This is for personal enjoyment.
Chapter 1: From the Comfort of My Seat
During the 60th Hunger Games
"I can't watch anymore!" My sister, Jacinta, yelps as she breastfeeds her twin boys. She shuts her eyes from the scene unfolding on the television. Seconds later, they spring open, glued right back on the Games.
Beautiful screams in agony as her District One partner, Levi, grabs her ponytail and rips her entire scalp off with his bare hands. Effortless. I'm impressed.
"I'm tired of you whipping your damn hair all the time," he growls. Everyone laughs. It's true; whenever Beautiful wants to make a point or show her dominance, she whips that black mane of hers back. It's her signature. Guess she better find another one.
Beautiful stumbles to the ground, wiggling like the chickens do after they're beheaded.
It's down to the final two. It was a short Hunger Games this year; the Careers had annihilated the other tributes within the first three days. And it didn't take long for the Career pack to be broken. A jab from the District 4 guy had initiated things. It had been a bloody showdown, but only the District One tributes remained.
The whole Town Building erupts in joyful chaos as Levi limps towards his former partner. Beautiful lays motionless in a bloody puddle, but no cannon sounds off.
"Kill that bitch!" an old man shoots out of his chair, spitting all over me.
"That's right Levi! Show her who's boss!" a little girl giggles.
"At least have mercy and end this quickly Levi! Please!" a woman shouts from the back, tears flowing from her eyes.
"Oh man, this is it!" Ivan squeezes my arm. His fingernails drive deeper into me by the second.
I take a long swish of goat milk and give him a playful hook to the chin. "Let's not have a mock Hunger Games, hermano."
Excitement floods my veins as I wait in anticipation for the next piece of action. Levi is a giant. Muscles bulges from every part of his body. The Career fight left him badly bruised and a gash he received from the District Two boy dyed the right side of his jumpsuit a deep red color. He only seems mildly affected.
I did not feel sorry for Beautiful. She's far from innocent. The ruthless girl had sliced through 5 tributes with her deadly sword, two of them the tributes from my district. Everyone here hates her. We want her dead. Now.
A look of-Was it satisfaction? Relief?-forms on the giant's face as he closes the gap between each other. He's bound to win now. Either he'll kill Beautiful or she'll die from the loss of blood gushing from her head wound.
As he starts to move in, readying his mace, something happens.
WHOOSH!
A spear shoots through the trees at lightning speed. Levi turns around in time for it to hit him straight in the chest.
Gasps of total shock echoes throughout the gigantic hall.
"A trap! A trap!" I scream at Ivan. This time I claw away at his arm. He gives me a look.
At the beginning of the Games, a sneaky District Eight girl had set up various traps around the swampy arena. She's long dead now, but her traps still remain. And fatally forgotten.
Levi stumbles back, astonishment now plastered on his face. Foolishly, he tries to pull the weapon out of his chest. Only blood flows out. Attempting to scream, he utters a low, animalistic sound of despair.
"Sounds like one of my cows when I brand them," Ivan chuckles, gnawing at some beef jerky.
"Give me some of that." I grab it from his hand and rip the tough meat with my teeth.
The giant falls to the ground, his eyes and mouth wide open. The cannon sounds off. Hovercrafts are already taking both tributes away before Claudius Templesmith can shout Beautiful has won
A bread roll hit the screen.
"I can't believe that snake won!" A deep voice in the back shouts.
"You better hold me back when she comes here for her Victory Tour!" the same old man from behind me spits, literally.
Fed up, I turn around. "What are you going to do? Drown her in your spit?" That shuts him up. He quickly sit down as everyone buckles over in laughter.
Since the Games are over, drones of people head out of the Town Building. I gather with my brothers and sisters as we squeezed out of the large hall where the screens played the Games.
The night air feels wonderful compared to the stifling heat produced by all the crammed, musty bodies in the Town Building. Walking out into the streets, the Town Square bustles with life. This late in the night, people would be in their homes trying to get enough sleep to wake up early for the animals. The Hunger Games had set off a firecracker. Excited chatter about what just unfolded minutes ago, children reenacting fight scenes, gossipers spreading rumors. Even the usually stoic Peacekeepers seemed to be showing an ounce of excitement. The verve of the Games had given breath to the usually dead Town Square.
We jump on top of our horses (we're of the few families in District Ten who can afford our own transportation) and ride our way back to the south village. With Ivan saddled behind me, I let loose my ponytail, hair flipping in the wind. A few minutes into the ride, I feel hands tugging at it, prompting me to turn around in confusion.
"The hair, Giovanni."
I stick my tongue out. "Deal, woman." He could be so whiny sometimes.
The south village is the closest to the Town Square and being on horseback, the ride is quite short. Candlelight lights up each adobe, surrounding the neighborhood in a golden glow.
Here, the wealthiest of District Ten stay. Contrasting with the bland, featureless adobes in the three other villages, ours are more detailed, some painted different colors. Space is abundant since fewer people live here. More space not only gives way to bigger houses, but also means more land to graze which meant healthier livestock equaling to more profit. It may be crap compared to the wealthier districts, but this is high living in District Ten. My mother's beekeeping is what keeps my family afloat. Apparently, the Capitol has an addiction to honey because the demand for it is through the roof.
We reach my house. It's a modest, two-story adobe. It's big enough to raise all four of me and my siblings and house the neighbors that stop and stay daily.
Walking in, we're greeted to the sounds of crying. Lots of crying.
My nieces and nephews are all here. My brothers and sisters all have their own adobes and families, but it's just natural for them to come back home every now and then.
Viviana, my oldest niece, run to hug me. She shares the same look of most District Ten people: coffee brown hair, tan skin darkened by working in the sun all day, black eyes. She can barely contain her excitement as she asks about the Games, her pigtails bobbing up and down.
"Who won? Was it that District 2 girl? What was her name again? It was weird, like Cor-something. I don't know, but did she win?"
I give her a smile. "Are you done chica?"
"Yes, now tell me what happened!"
"Keep it down, you hooligans. I've been trying to put them asleep for the past hour!" My mother shushes us as she rocks one crying grandson and motions at the others in my sister's old bedroom. The little boy's tears keep rolling. "Baldomar, retrieve your hellspawn."
My oldest brother takes him in his arms. The cries stop immediately.
She shake her head, "Spoiled I say. When you all were children, I let you cry a river. Makes you stronger."
"And there will be no talking about those Games in this house." My father comes out of the kitchen, carrying a plate of something in one hand and a sleeping toddler in the other. I swipe a piece of food and bite in. Mmm, empanadas. And stuffed with horse.
Between bites, I speak. "Not even the part where Levi gets-"
"Giovanni!"
I swallow and give my most innocent smile. I bend down towards Viviana's ear, my voice barely above a rat's squeak. "Beautiful won."
Her eyebrows go up and her mouth forms a tiny O. "Not the evil girl! That's not fair! I'm gonna…put my tongue out at her when she comes!"
I chuckle. "You think a 7-year-old's tongue is gonna hurt a Hunger Games victor?"
"Uh huh!"
My parents glare at me. "Don't poison her mind with that violence," my mother tells me as she ushers Viviana to her mother.
They were never fans of The Hunger Games. They nicknamed it El Diablo. By law, everyone has to watch them. Peacekeepers give you a higher meat quota to fill if you refuse. A jar of the best honey we had will persuade the nicer Peacekeepers to overlook my parents breaking the rules.
My first Games was on my 8th birthday. I was horrified, had nightmares for weeks. Then, I got used to them and eventually fell in love. The thrill, the terror, the gore. It all satisfied my boyish instincts for violence from the comfort of my seat. I idolized the victors, even envied them a bit. One year when a District Four victor stopped here on his tour, I tried my hardest to turn a pitchfork into a trident and spent my entire allowance on gel to style my hair just like his. I failed miserably.
My father motions to the door. "Someone check the cow stables for manure."
"Not me, I'm watching Jorge." Baldomar looks up from his now sleeping son.
"The boys are fussy," Jacinta says from the guest room.
My other brother comes in covered in mud. Grabbing two empanadas, he goes to seat down before receiving my mother's look. "The pigs wore me out today. I'm not doing any more walking."
My father turns towards me. "Go clean the stables, mijo."
"Why me?"
"You're the youngest and everyone else is busy."
"And?"
"Giovanni!" Whenever my father shouts, that's it. There's no arguing about it.
"You're a pig yourself, you know." I scowl at my brother before walking out. "Come on Ivan."
"Those aren't my cows," he says while I drag him outside. We share an area with another neighbor for the animals we raise. I mainly care for the bulls and help out with the bees. After my siblings moved out and got their own livestock, I've had to watch over all four. The slight stench of cow dung waft through the air as we approach the stables.
"Here we go."
The cows had mercy on us today. Only a few had a couple of droppings. While making a pile to be shipped to District Eleven, I hear a faint noise behind me. I turn around and see it.
"Ivan, don't move."
"Huh?" He turns around and gasp, dropping his fork and almost jumping back but knowing better.
A rattlesnake had camouflaged itself with the desert ground and slithered its way towards Ivan. It's a big one and did not look very happy.
Grabbing at my pitchfork, I make my way to the reptile inch by inch. Snakes are commonplace here. Their poison is the leading cause of death in District Ten since medicine included herbs, oils, charms and hope. The snake is too preoccupied with Ivan to notice that I've tiptoed behind. It readies itself to strike Ivan, its body moving back to attack.
Ivan whispers pleadingly, "Kill it Giovanni! Now!"
"I'm trying! Calm down!" I whisper back, irritancy growing in my voice. "I'm in as much danger as you are. It can easily strike me too!" Sweat pours down my forehead and covers my armpits, either from the heat in the stable or the now deadly situation we're in.
Suddenly, the rattlesnake hisses and launches itself. Ivan shrieks as the fork reaches its neck just centimeters away from his leg. Letting out an angry hiss, it hits the ground. I stab repeatedly until I feel confident it's dead. A snake's will to live is incredible.
We stand motionless for a moment, breathing heavily. Ivan breaks the silence. "Thanks, hermano."
"I can't have you dying on me, Ivan. You're like family." I nod and give him a smile. Then we laugh for a bit, out of nervousness of the whole situation. My best friend was almost taken out!
"Let's get the hell out of here." We run full speed to my house, not even bothering to wash up.
"Papi, you almost killed us." I say accusingly when we run inside. It's much quieter now. Only my parents sit in the living area, playing cards.
My mother looks up from the game, confused. "What are you going on about, mijo?"
"A rattlesnake nearly attacked me and Ivan." I put an emphasis on the 'and'. "Try explaining that one to Senor and Senora Castillo."
"You all are strong men. You both can handle yourselves." My father casually shuffles the cards.
"You know, I should receive no chores for the entire week to recover from this awful mental distress." I give them a wink as I sit down.
"No Giovanni," they speak in unison.
"In his defense, he not only spotted it first, but he killed it right before it got me. He deserves some reward, Senor and Senora Del Rojo," Ivan speak. I swear my parents listen to him more than me.
My father huffs. "Fine, fine. You're free from cleaning the stables for a week."
"Make that two weeks."
"Don't push it, Giovanni." Getting up, he gives a heavy yawn. "We're off to bed. You too, mijo. The cows will need milking in the morning."
I frown." I thought you said I was free?"
"Free from cleaning, not free from working altogether. We did not raise our children to be lazy." Smiling, he bids us goodnight and walks to the room.
My mother give us a kiss. "Buenos noches boys. And Ivan, tell your mother thanks again for the flour. I was not going to pay 7 tokens for a bag at the shop."
"I will." He nods and yawns too. "I should leave. It's pretty late and it's my turn to milk the goats tomorrow." We walk out into the night, not before checking to see any snakes slithering around. Ivan lives just a few adobes away, so the distance isn't too bad.
"Hey, did you finish that assignment we had in History of Panem?" he says as we arrive at his place. His adobe is much smaller, as it's just his parents and younger brother living with him.
"What do you think?"
"Me neither."
"Why worry about school when The Hunger Games is going on?" I roll my eyes at the very thought of school. Not like I cared about it any other time of the year. What's the point? My life is pretty much set out for me; I will raise animals for the rest of my life. There are no other options in District Ten. Knowing how Panem formed and what some dead guy in a wig thought will never save my life.
"True, true. Buenos noches Giovanni. See you tomorrow." We give each other a peck on both cheeks, a District Ten sign of friendship, and I head back.
It has gotten cooler now, or rather cool for District Ten standards. I adjust my tunic but to no luck. The majority of candles are blown out in the village as only the moon provides light. From a distance, the Town Square is dark and empty as well and the animals are all asleep. It's quiet now; only the hissing of faraway snakes and running water made any sort of noise. Spotting a deer drinking from a stream, I take this time to break the silence and send punches and kicks its way.
"Take that Beautiful! And that!" I shout, hitting the air. The deer looks for a bit then continues drinking.
I can't move. I'm pinned down in the grass. My head feels like it weighs a ton. Birds chirp madly as the wind blows at hurricane speeds.
What is going on? I think. The sun is too bright, making my headache worse. Something blocks the light. I look up to see Beautiful on top of me, smiling manically. Blood trickles from her scalpless head and drips into my mouth. She holds up a machete.
"A little over the top!" she screams as she drives the machete to my forehead.
"I didn't mean to kick you!" I jump up shouting, swinging punches in the air. I look around: no Beautiful in sight. Whew, that was only a dream.
When I fall back asleep, I have another one where me and Beautiful are trying on Capital wigs.