Ok so this is the first fic I have actually been bothered to upload so yeah, I don't own anything except my made up characters :) oh and sorry for any stupid grammatical errors :P
Sick with the failures of their tributes, District 8 scientists created a DNA that when injected into an individual can give them accurate aim and strength when using swords, knives, spears and bow and arrows, it gives them all the knowledge needed from how to tell edible berries from poisonous ones, to how to make a fire and how to camouflage and gives them many more assets for being the perfect killer. This DNA was sent to the District 8 Orphanage for Girls and injected into each girl aged 6, 10 years later it is the 74th Annual Hunger Games. This year only these few girls names are put into the glass bowl and the scientists can finally test their creations.
Charlene Grace
The wind blows our hair into our eyes as us orphans scamper from building to building in an attempt to stay dry. The rain patters lightly against the cobbled path we follow to the town square, cheeks red from the cold we pull our white woollen shawls closer around our shoulders our teeth chattering at the sudden burst of wind that lifts our long white skirts. This is the only time we ever leave the orphanage and I hate it, the streets are old, dull and miserable and the mood is sad and grey far from anything I like. Families huddle in doorways pulling each other close and it makes me wonder about mine. Do they think about me every day? Do they wonder which orphan I am? The only thing that suggests my family exists is the heart shaped pendant that hangs around my pale neck, my name, Charlene, etched across in cursive writing. My parents left me with it and I've been wearing it my whole life. I stumble slightly into Mireille who turns around and glares at me "watch it," she snaps causing my face to heat up in embarrassment. I'm rather shy and hate confrontation. I follow the girls silently up the street, not one of us daring to say a thing.
20 minutes later, we all stand huddled together in the 16 year old section our hands linked; it is the only time unity is shown among us, we know that one year one of us will be picked and each year brings more nerves. "Hello and welcome" Trila Mas our district escort squeaks in her funny accent, she has bright orange hair and her clothes are bedazzled in blue rhinestones. It clashes horribly but I can't help but admire the pretty colours and I know that it was made by someone from my district. The time seems to drag on but finally Trila comes to the part we are all waiting for, "it's time to announce the district 8 female tribute of the 74th annual Hunger Games" she calls, her eyes lighting in excitement. I squeeze Moire, my best friends; hand tighter if, that's even possible, and squeeze my eyes shut. I can hear Trila's footsteps, echoing through the microphone as she crosses the stage and my eyes peak open. Her hand is slowly circulating over the top of the female glass bowl and my eyes snap shut as she suddenly plunges her hand in. I can hear her footsteps again as she slowly crosses the stage. She gives a small cough before reading out "Charlene Grace Maxima," my eyes flicker open and I can hear the girls gasp around me. No one offers any form of comfort, not even Moire, they only stare at me the look of shock on their face probably mimicking mine. The crowd parts around me like the red sea and with one fleeting look back at them I make my way toward the stage. Stumbling slightly as I walk up the creaky wooden stairs. I face the crowd and immediately feel queasy, like I said, I'm shy, I don't do well in front of crowds. Trila smiles at me "lovely to have you here, let's have a nice big round of applause for," her name flits back down to the piece of paper, "Charlene!" The crowed stares blankly at me for a few seconds and then slowly, starting at a low murmur it erupts into applause. Not one happy face is in the crowd and my legs feel weak as I try to avoid their gazes. But curiosity gets the better of me and I can't help but scan the audience faces, to see if I can find someone who looks like me. Someone who may be my parent. My eyes pass over the orphan girls who look shocked, the blonde good-looking boy who I watch deliver the paper to the orphanage every Thursday morning, Miss Maxima the founder of the orphanage and Miss Lox the nurse. My eyes glance at many unfamiliar faces but not one shows any similarities to me, not one could possibly be my parent.
Once again the crowd bursts into applause and I look up to see a tan older boy with bright green eyes and chocolate brown hair standing next to me. He offers me a small smile that makes dimples appear on his cheek and I give a small smile back feeling my cheeks blush crimson. The contrast obvious against my pale skin. We are then made to shake hands and escorted to the Justice building into separate rooms, where we wait to be greeted by our families or in my case friend and acquaintances.
I sit there heart beating loudly, head spinning still trying to take in everything that just happened. I feel faint and nauseated my breathing is slightly laboured. Suddenly the cream wooden door swings open and in walks Moire, she has tears in her eyes and is clutching her shawl tightly around her shoulders. "Oh Charlie," she sobs throwing herself at me I pat her on the back noticing how ironic it is that I'm comforting her when I'm the one who is being rounded up for slaughter. After a minute or so she pulls away "you'll be fine" she says her words only just understandable over the sobs, "the DNA" she stammers again. I nod my head but that doesn't stop the doubt that fills me, no one knows if the DNA, which has been injected into us ever since the age of six, actually works, it has never been tested. But I know that now is not the time to be pessimistic. We sit in silence for a few more minutes until the peacekeepers come in telling us that our time is over. Moira gives me one last hug before turning and leaving from the room.
An hour later I sit squashed in an old taxi that is barely running. The exhaust keeps spluttering and the cream leather seats are covered in mould. Squashed between me and my district partner, whose name I haven't quite figured out yet, is Trila who looks the most uncomfortable of us all. She is sat rigidly and is trying to make conversation but neither of us our ready to speak yet. I sneak a glance to the side my vision brushing against my district partners figure. He's quite handsome, with his bright green eyes and chocolate brown hair. I can see a small scar just under his chin and above his right eye. His eyes are watery as if he is trying to contain tears and he stares deeply out of the front window. His vision flicks to the side and I quickly avert my gaze looking out my window, cheeks flaming.
Ok, that's chapter one hope u enjoyed :)