Hey people.

Here goes nothing as I try to attempt to write a Victorious fic based on The Hunger Games. So R&R, tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I am not Dan Shneider, the owner of Victorious. Nor am I Suzanne Collins, I own nothing of the Hunger Games. Any mistakes and errors are my fault. Nor am I famous. I own none of this.


Chapter 1- The Reaping

The pale grey morning light pours through the window and into my face. My eyelids flutter open and I'm suddenly aware of something holding onto me. I look down to see a small red haired form clinging to my body and sigh.

My cousin must have come in sometime last night when I was out cold. Probably having nightmare again. But I don't blame her, since today is the day of the reaping. But I have to go.

I disentangle myself from Cat's arms and she whimpers a bit. I sigh again and put her stuffed giraffe in her arms. She sighs as well and rolls over.

I lace up my combat boots, tie my black hair into a spiky ponytail and look back silently at her sleeping figure. She still looks like the child that showed up ten years ago, orphaned by the same train crash that was the end of my mother. Even then, when were both six, I was stronger than she was.

I was still as stone but inside I felt as if I was dying. I wouldn't believe them when they told me. I'd yelled and screamed that my mother would come back. I refused to believe she was dead...until they had pulled her body from the ashes and she was lying cold on on tabletop, waiting to be dressed for burial. I couldn't think or breathe. It was like someone had knocked all the air out of my lungs. I tried to shake her, tears streaming down my face, foolishly begging heaven that she was only unconscious. But I couldn't do anything.

Cat-oh my word, Cat. She was a broken mess, screaming and crying when they brought in her parents. She had blacked out finally and I caught her. When she woke up hours later, she sobbed like her heart had been ripped out. She cried to me that she wanted her parents back and I had told her that crying wouldn't help. Which only made it worse, and I thought she's burst a blood vessel with all the crying she was doing. Thoughtlessly, I had told her she could come live with us.

It stopped her tears, and my father consented after hours and hours of begging and pleading. But he caved in eventually. Cat was ecstatic and I'm glad. I hate most people, but when it comes to my cousin, I'd kill anyone to protect her.

I kiss her forehead lightly and slip out of the house silently. The streets are empty and the sound of my boots hitting the rocky road echo around me. Normally, all the Region 12 kids are playing around, but not today. Reaping day-when everyone from the ages of fifteen to nineteen are counting down the minutes until two o'clock, when the reaping of the tributes would happen.

I shake off the thoughts as I duck under the wire fence that separates our region from the woods. It's supposed to be an electric one, but since it broke down after the train collision, no one's bothered to fix it. I doubt anyone ever will.

I jog through the forest and pull out a spear, my bow and a quiver of arrows from a fallen tree log and take a deep breath. Time to hunt.

I walk noiselessly through the forest when my foot gets caught in a ditch and I'm abruptly yanked up into the air. I let out a shriek as I dangle by one foot from a tree. "ANDREAS HARRIS I SWEAR, WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU WILL PAY," I scream at the top of my lungs. I attempt to untie my foot and fail miserably.

A boy with dark skin and dreadlocks runs over to where I'm standing. "Hey Jade. You look a bit hung up there," he says, laughing. I let out a low growl in his direction, which, in turn, only makes him laugh harder.

"Get me down before I shoot you, "I say, pulling out an arrow and aiming at his direction.

"You wouldn't shoot your best friend, would you? And just so you know, if for some reason you do, you'll never get down," he says, tugging the weapon out of my hands.

I sigh and frown at him. "Please get me down?" I ask in a sweet voice, giving him a sad and wounded look. Through the pale morning light I can see the dark circles under his eyes and know immediately that he was worrying about being picked and no one would take care of his crazy grandmother for him.

He pulls out a knife and cuts my foot loose carefully, so he won't jostle me that much. I look at his face carefully, and sigh. I've known him practically since birth, but with time his face hardened because of the loss of his parents as well in the crash. The rope snaps suddenly and I fall down on top of him.

He grunts and stands up, grabbing my hand and pulling me up as well. "Well that was painful," he says, wincing as he lets go of me and brushes off his pants.

I roll my eyes and jab him in the ribs. "It's your fault for hanging me up there in the first place," I say, yanking the rest of the rope down from the tree and retrieving my fallen weapons.

He shrugs and pulls something out of his bag. He hands me a small cup of something warm and I take a deep breath, inhaling the heavenly aroma as he pulls out a loaf of bread. "Coffee? How much did you pay for this? And the bread?" I ask, shaking my head. Food is hard enough to get here in Region 12, and very expensive. Coffee is an unthinkable rare delicacy that only the richest people enjoy.

"Give or take about three quarts of strawberries and six birds," he says shaking his head when I offer him a sip of my coffee. "That's for the coffee only. The bread cost me about three squirrels."

I arch an eyebrow and take a sip of my coffee. Guess the lowered the prices since today is the day of the reaping. We're all living in fear of that. "Thanks," I say quietly.

He gives me a half-hearted half smile. "Happy Hunger Games, Jade," he says, sighing and picking up the spear by his side, changing his mind, dropping it, picking up the knife and starting to cut the bread.

"And may the odds be ever in your favour," I say, mimicking Trina Vega's accent. She's the one that reads the names out of the tributes on live television, for all of Panem to see. It makes it more humiliating than it already is.

After we finish our breakfast, we hunt for several hours and check the traps. We end up with fourteen rabbits, sixteen squirrels and 2 pounds of strawberries. We divide the spoils in half and walk towards the gate.

"I'll see you at the reaping," I whisper softly, looking away. I don't want to imagine what I'll do if he's picked. It can't happen, and I refuse to believe that it might.

"Wear something pretty," he murmurs, starting to walk off before turning back to me. I arch an eyebrow at him and tilt my head to the side. "We don't have to do this."

I push some of my black hair out of my face and shake my head. "Explain, cause I'm not getting what you're trying to say," I respond evenly. I'm dying to know the explanation to this.

He says it so quickly I have to ask him to repeat it. He says it again, slower, but just as excitedly as if he believes his plan will work. "We could run off and live in the woods. You and I- we could make it."

I shake my head slowly. "What would happen to Cat? Your grandmother?" I grit my teeth before reluctantly adding, "And My father?"

"We'd take them with us," he says, eyes sparkling with false hope.

I sigh, hating to break it to him. "You're grandmother's crazy. And Cat's scared of her own shadow; the woods would destroy her completely."

"Whatever," He says coldly, clearly put out.

"Andre…"I say, reaching towards him. He shakes his dark head and starts walking towards hi house. "It was a stupid idea Jadelyn. I'll see you at the reaping."

I open my mouth then shut it. He knows I can't argue with him about that. "Whatever." I practically run from the fence into my house.

This is ridiculous. We're both nervous and we're taking it out on each other. It's the stress about being picked. Since the day you turn fifteen, once a year your name goes into the pool of tributes for a chance to be reaped in the annual Hunger Games. The Games is a reminder of the rebellion and how it must never happen again.

Every Games, one name is reaped from the girl's pool and one from the boy's pool in every region. These select few are called tributes. They fight to the death in a larger outdoor arena: the last one standing is crowned victor and is lavished with gifts of money and food for the region for the remainder of their lives.

But say you're not as wealthy, or poor, like me and Andre. You can get extra food and money…in exchange for having your name added to the pool more times. The times add up, so this year, Andre's name will be in the pool twenty-six times-twice because he had to, the other times for the extra food and money. Even when they give it to us, it's never enough to live on. I have my name entered forty-four times.

When I arrive at the house, Cat is wearing a pale pink dress that reaches her knees and her vibrant red hair is swept up in a high ponytail. She smiles when she sees me, running over and hugging me tightly when I walk through the door. "Jadey!"

"Hey Kitty Cat," I manage a tired smile for her sake. "Don't you look pretty?"

She giggles, then releases me from her embrace so I can go shower. I scrub my hair until my hands turn brown with the dirt of the forest. Blech.

By the time I've finished drying off, I look at my bed to find that my father has left one of my mother's dresses on the bed. It's a wispy black one that has sleeves that reach my elbows and the bottom brushes my ankles when I wear it. Worn black flats with bows on the them are laid beside them.

I raise an eyebrow but pull on the clothes, leaving my dark waves to frame my face, making a striking contrast-midnight against porcelain. My father treasures the clothes my mother used to have-they're all he has left of her. I can't help but wonder why he left it here for me to wear.

I gaze into the cracked mirror at my reflection. I look like a carbon copy of my mother when she was my age, from the photographs she used to show me. My reflection blurs and I hastily brush away any tears that sprung into my eyes as a result of thinking of my mother. I breathe shakily and straighten my dress.

Cat looks at me in silent awe when I step out of the room. "You look beautiful Jadey," she says, her eyes wide. It's all I can do not to cry when she adds softly, "You look just like your mother."

I smile at her half-heartedly and bite my lower lip to keep it from trembling. "We'd better go now," I say quietly as she takes my hand. I'm not gonna worry about her being chosen- her name's only been entered twice since there's no point adding her name in more times if I'm already doing it.

We walk in silence and tell the guards our names when we arrive at the Justice Building, where the reapings are held. They check off our names and let us in. We go to stand with the rest of the sixteen year olds in the designated section.

I glance at the bowl and suck in a breath sharply. Forty-four of those slips have Jadelyn West written on them in disgustingly perfect handwriting. The odds are definitely not in my favour today.

Katrina (better known as just Trina) Vega mounts the stage in her 12 inch bubble gum pink high heels. It's a miracle she doesn't fall off the stage. "Welcome, welcome, to the reaping of the Seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games! I'm Trina Vega, live here from Region 12," she chirps happily.

"Welcome, welcome, to the reaping of the Seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games!" I imitate her under my breath. Cat giggles and I shush her as Vega starts blabbing on and on about how Panem rose from the ashes of a place called North America. Ruled by the Capitol and ringed by thirteen regions. When the regions rebelled, twelve were defeated and the thirteenth completely obliterated. Same story as every year.

"The Capitol gave us a second chance," Trina gushes, flipping her caramel brown hair over her shoulder. "But freedom comes with a price. So without further ado, let's introduce the female tribute from Region 12 to be this year's tribute!"

Her hand reaches into the bowl and a hush falls over the entire outdoor courtyard. Everyone's holding their breath before she reads out the name of the unfortunate girl who will be tossed into the arena.

She pulls out the slip and I clench my hand into a fist, my nails digging into my hand as she opens it. She doesn't call out my name, no she does much worse. She makes my worst nightmare a reality.

"Caterina Valentine."


And there ends the first chapter of THG-Victorious style. Questions, concerns, complains? Just tell me.

Hope you enjoyed, R&R.

Dark Angel Night, over and out!

Waittttttt. I may be changing my pen name so watch out for the update that'll tell you what It's gonna be. Kay? Bye.