A/N: Hi! This is my first Fanfiction about Madge and Gale. From the minute I read a fanfic on them I fell in love with them and decided to write my own version. Please, no hate, but I am open to criticism that will make my writing better.
In this story, Gale and Madge will be going to the Games. I'm hoping that if I get enough support on this I can continue it until after Mockingjay. It will be AU at times and maybe OOC for some characters. Well, I've talked long enough, so just go ahead and read c:
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does, but if I did, the ending would be a lot different c:
Oh, hooray. The Reaping. The day when two children are reaped to fight to the death on live television. A bad taste comes to my mouth just thinking about it.
I slide out of bed slowly, delaying the moment when I have to appear in the square. Any way to get out of it is fine by me. I sigh and jump into the shower, rinsing off and washing. After getting out, I pull on a white dress, a reaping dress, and drag my messy blonde hair into a ponytail, tying it with a pink ribbon. I deem myself presentable.
My mother has been sick for years, buried under grief. My dead aunt Maysilee died before I was born, in the 50th Hunger Games. Since then, she's been forcing herself under morphling, drowning out the nightmares. At the moment, she's passed out, empty vials next to her bed. I sigh and put them in the bathroom. Technically, we aren't supposed to have them, but my father being the mayor and all, we get lucky.
On the night side table of her room, there's a pin. A mockingjay. The mockingjays are a cross of jabber jays and mocking birds. The jabber jays were genetically-engineered birds that were meant to record conversations by the rebels in the Dark Days, but when the Rebels caught on they started feeding false information to the birds and they went back to the Capitol with lies. The Capitol eventually caught on and left the birds to die off in the wilderness. The birds didn't die off, but they mated with the mocking birds, creating a new species. The species could use human sounds but not record conversations.
My aunt wore this as her token into the arena. I pick it up and pin it on quickly. Maybe this way I'll feel closer to her during this time.
Quickly, I make my way downstairs, dragging my feet on the stairs. I go to the kitchen and grab some bread and an apple from the basket. I guess this is my breakfast for today. My father is most likely still upstairs, in his office.
A sudden knocking on the backdoor startles me. I instantly know who it is. Katniss and Gale. God, I wish I could tell Gale how I felt about him. I quickly rush to the backdoor, taking a moment to collect myself before opening the ebony door.
When I open it, I see Katniss in the front, Gale further behind her, scowling at the ground. Typical.
"Here are some strawberries, Madge." Katniss says politely. The two of us are friends, I guess. I mean, we sit with each other at lunch and partner up for school activities, but rarely talk, and when we do talk, it's just small talk. That's as close as I'm going to get to a real friend. I knew neither of us are very social and have few friends, but I'm glad that Katniss is my friend, even though we are exact opposites. I have blonde hair and blue eyes, typical for town kids, and she has dark brown and grey eyes, like normal Seam people. Like Gale, I guess.
"Thanks Katniss." I said back, taking the basket of strawberries from her outstretched hands.
"Pretty dress." Gale says out loud, and my heart starts to flutter in my chest. Is that a compliment, or just plain irony?
I stare at him for a moment, trying to ignore the fluttering in my chest. "Well if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" His face slacks for a moment while Katniss smirks at my answer. It's not funny to him, not one bit.
His eyes narrow quickly before he spouts out, "You won't be going to the Capitol," he says, a bit of anger sparking in his words, "What can you have? Five slips?" With every word I feel myself shrinking more and more, "I had six when I was just twelve." His jaw locks after he finishes.
"That's not her fault," Katniss defends me and Gale raises his hands in surrender, staring at the ground.
"It's no one's fault. Just the way it is." He shoves his hands into his back pockets and stands there, lamely.
"Good luck Katniss," I say gently and she nods.
"You too," she says, turning and beckoning Gale to follow her. They don't say anything, just walk. Like he said, it's not my fault that I live where I do. Does he think I asked to be the Mayor's Daughter? Have everyone stare at me like I'm a disease?
I sigh, and bring the strawberries back in, dropping them on the kitchen table. They land with a thud. I don't exactly like strawberries that much, they're a bit too sweet or sometimes too sour for me, but my father loves them.
Standing in the middle of the kitchen, I get an urge to play the piano. It helps in bad times. Quickly, I go into the living room, sliding my hands over the smooth and cold keys, slowly pressing down on one of the higher notes. The sound fills my ears, swelling my heart. I love the piano, I really do. Usually, when Capitol residents come to District 12 for something, they ask me to play. Apparently, according to my father, several have taken a liking to me. He has made hints that he would like for me to end up with one of them, to move to the Capitol and avoid the Reaping with my children.
The thought repulsed me, naturally. Like I could ever marry one of them. He hasn't said anything about it in a while, so I may be free from that, if I don't bring it up.
I slowly sit down on the piano bench, beginning to play a soft melody, as it gets louder and louder, with more of a ring to it. Most of the time, I can lose myself in the music, but today it's just not working. I can't concentrate. The feeling in the pit of my stomach isn't a good one.
My dad comes down from his office, a few moments later. His footsteps echo on the cold hardwood floor of the hallway.
"That's very good, sweetie."
"Thanks, Daddy." Yeah. I still call my father Daddy. It just fits him. He comes over to me and gives me a quick hug, one that gives me little comfort right now. I follow him to the kitchen as he plucks a strawberry out of the basket.
"Are they in season?" He asks, after taking a bite out of one.
"I don't know." I murmur. My father doesn't mind that they come from the woods. Or, if he does, he doesn't say anything. Silence echoes in our house.
Before long, he speaks again, looking at his watch. "It's time to go." He says, before leading me to the square in silence.
There are already several kids in the check in line, from trembling twelve year olds, to the eighteen year olds who pray that they don't get picked in their last year. That's Gale. Praying he doesn't get picked. The prick on my finger startles me slightly, but doesn't hurt much. I slowly walk to the sixteen section. Most girls avoid me. I stand next to Katniss and she doesn't mind, because she's looking for Prim.
It's Prim's first year in the Reaping and I know she's probably terrified. Every kid was when they were twelve. Hell, I know I was. But I didn't get picked, and neither will she. She has one tiny slip in that giant bowl filled with thousands. Five of which have Margret Undersee written on them in careful handwriting.
I start fiddling with my fingers, as more people start filling in. My section fills up quickly. The mood is solemn, all of us hoping we aren't one of the "lucky" tributes to go to the Capitol to die.
Finally, my father and a few of his representatives make it onto the stage, signalizing the Reaping is about to begin. I think that this year there's going to be no incidents when Haymitch Abernathy enters the square.
Haymitch is the district drunk. After he won, he drowned his sorrows in alcohol, or anything with alcohol. Peacekeepers have to help him onto the stage, he's so drunk. This is normal. As usual, we will be the laughing stock of Panem. Yay.
My father reads the history of Panem, and as usual, everyone tunes it out. Then, he reads out the list of living Victors. So, Haymitch.
"Welcome, welcome, to the reaping for the 74th Annual Hunger Games! And, may the odds be ever in your favor!" Effie Trinket's voice is shrill in my ears. For years now, she's been our District Escort, and word on the street is that she hates our district and wants to escort a different one. Her bright pink skirt and pink blouse stand out against our coal covered district.
"As usual, ladies first." She squeals again, and moves toward the bowl.
Effie reaches her white hand into the bowl and shuffles it around, through the thousands of slips. You can hear nothing besides the clicks and clacks of her heels as she walks back to the microphone.
Then, she reads the single name, the one girl who's going to most likely die. "Margret Undersee." Immediately, I feel sick. My name, my name, was just called. I'm going to the Games. Everyone has backed away from me like I'm diseased, and if they even breathe in the air I'm breathing in, they'll catch it too. Next to me, Katniss has gone pale. I swallow thickly and force myself to move. I can't cry. I won't, I will not cry. Later. I'll cry later. People make a pathway for me and I set my shoulders back.
I make it to the steps, after an excruciating long walk and slowly climb the steps, as Effie Trinket keeps motioning me to go faster. My eyes skirt to my father, whose mask is gone. He's no longer the strong and steady Mayor of District 12. No, he's a parent now. A normal parent, scared for their children.
"Wait a minute!" Effie jumps, as she realizes who I am, "Are you the Mayor's daughter?" I don't move, instead staring at the gravel covered ground.
"Maysilee?" I heard the drunken Haymitch slur behind me.
Crap. I shake my head quickly, trying to get him to stop. "What the hell are you doing here?" Then, he face plants off the stage, into the dirt. Peacekeepers carry him away from the scene. I know exactly what he was talking about, and now I'm fighting off tears. People are whispering, and I'm wondering if it's directed at me.
Effie's wig is not falling off and she looks frazzled. "Well, I guess it's time for the boys!" I barely have time to think about who I don't want it to be, when the name rings out, echoing across the square.
"Rory Hawthorne." My jaw slowly drops, and no sooner than Rory steps out, Gale's rushing up to him.
With one sweep of his arm, Rory was behind him and Gale is volunteering.
I'm in complete shock. Rory had the same number of slips as me! Less maybe! Peacekeepers shove Gale up the steps, much faster than they forced me and he shrugs them off, walking up the steps by himself before standing next to me.
I hear a young girl call his name and his jaw clenches, as do his fists. I bet she's his sister. I know there are four children, all together.
My father has to come back out and read the Treaty of Treason and the entire time I'm fighting off tears, trying to prevent them from coming out. His voice shakes at nearly every word and it drags on. Finally, it ends, on one quivering note.
"And now may I present this year's tributes for District 12, Margret Undersee, and Gale Hawthorne!" No one in the entire crowd claps. Effie's weak clapping fades.
"Shake hands, you two." Gale gives me a weak shake and his hand falls, back into a fist. Even by this small interaction, my stomach flips.
We're both brought inside of the Justice Building and shoved into separate rooms for goodbyes. Only three minutes for everyone. That is not nearly enough.
There is a feeling of sadness in here. Perhaps it's the plain brown walls, or the faded leather chairs. But it's most likely is how many tears have been shed in here. This is where families and friends say goodbye to the tributes. I've been here once before, saying good bye to another merchant kid. He died, as most District 12 kids do. I'm already preparing for my death; theres no doubt about it: I'm going to die. I've never touched a weapon, there's no possible way I can kill someone, and I know nothing about survival.
I hear the shuffling of feet outside the door and know if must be Gale's family. There's a small girl wailing. My heart aches for the child. The door opens and in steps my dad.
"Daddy..." I croak, but that's all I can get out before my dad grabs me and gives me a bone-crushing hug. We stay like this for several minutes, until I start to talk.
"Daddy-" I say again, but am cut off by him again.
"Madgey, I know this is awful for you. But please, when you're in the arena, stay yourself. Don't let it change you." And I know what he means by 'change'. A few years back, a tribute named Titus went crazy and started eating people's hearts. I couldn't bear to watch him. He eventually died, but he was creepy. And then there's Annie Cresta, from District 4. She saw her district partner beheaded. I don't know how I would handle that. We didn't see her for nearly five weeks after she was plucked out of the arena. She couldn't even formulate clear sentences at the final interview.
"Daddy, you must know I have no chance of coming back." I force out and he sighs, as tears finally release from me, pouring down my face.
"At least try. I don't think your mother could handle it."
"Daddy, I'll try. No promises." He wipes my tears away.
"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Madgey. I love you so much. So, so much."
"I love you too, Daddy. Tell Mommy..."
"I know. I love you." Then he's gone. The last time I'll probably ever see my father. I pull a pillow into my arms and scream into it. The scream is not muffled.
"Katniss?" I ask. I didn't expect her to come say good-bye. I guess too busy with Gale. Oh, God, how is he handling this?
"Well, don't act so surprised." She huffs. "I am your friend." I try to smile, but it turns to a grimace quickly.
She crosses to me quickly before giving me a small hug. "Thanks." I say.
"For what?" She asks, looking confused.
"For just being my friend. I've never actually had a real friend. I'm glad I got to know you when I did." I finish, she still looks confused.
Then she gets it. Her eyes widen. "Oh!" She exclaims, "Well, I guess you're welcome then?" She finishes awkwardly. I want to mention Gale, but I don't. We kind of just sit there until she is taken out.
"Bye, Madge. Good luck." I grimace, realizing that those are the same words I said to her earlier.
I don't think I'm going to get any more visitors, but am wrong when Peeta Mellark steps in.
"Peeta!" I force out and then he's holding me.
"I'm so sorry, Madge."
"Not your fault." I murmur and he releases me.
I take a breath as he starts talking. "You probably think you have no chance coming home. But you have spunk, Madge. That's what's going to get you through this." A weak laugh escapes me.
"I have spunk?"
"Yeah. You do." He's quiet for a minute.
"Peeta? Tell Katniss. She needs someone right now."
He sighs. "I dunno, Madge. I just don't know." He's taken out and gives me another hug. Then, I'm alone.
Quickly, I'm taken out of the room, behind Gale, and shoved into car.
It's very nice, but I'm too busy looking out the window at my home. I'm sure Gale is doing the same. Effie is rambling on with neither of us really listening. All that she's talking about is how much we'll love the Capitol and that it's so pretty and blah, blah, blah. Really, all I want to do is either silence Effie or curl up on a sofa and die. Both are looking pretty good right about now.
We arrive at the dingy old train station where we're forced to stand in the lime-light as the cameras bask in our presence. I look down at my dad to see him standing alone, with tears pouring down his face. Then Katniss and Prim with their mother, looking beyond grief. The worst is Gale's family. The little girl I heard earlier is clinging to Rory's leg. The other brother is clutching his mother's shoulders, as to help her from falling. Her face is the worst. Years of being underfed and having to scrounge for food has etched deep lines into her face, and this is not helping. Her tears are streaming down her shirt and onto the black dirt from all the coal being tracked around.
This sucks, I think to myself. This whole thing sucks. So what if we rebelled against the Capitol? We just wanted freedom from their harsh rule. And this is what we are rewarded with. The stupid Hunger Games where kids fight to the death for entertainment. This is sick. This is totally sick.
A/N: Thoughts? Should I keep going? And if so, leave a review(: reviews always make my day(:
Sorry for any mistakes, no beta!
