I absentmindedly pick at my salad while staring at Pike Grove High's trophy case. On a large gold trophy reads District Football Champions. Under it is a picture of my brother, Jayce Mellark, standing next to coach, huge smiles plastered on both of their faces. Another large trophy next to it…District Basketball Champions. Oddly enough, Lyle Mellark's picture is sitting under that trophy. Stupid, sweaty, blond, 6 feet tall twin brothers. I just get all the luck around here, don't I? Whatever. I drift in and out of my friends' conversation, because it's about what we're doing in History class and honestly I'd like to think about anything but that. I catch my reflection in the trophy case glass and sigh. Sleek black hair that falls in loose curls to my ribs. Bright blue eyes that pop against olive skin. Ski slope nose and high cheekbones. Everyone says I look just like my mother did when she was my age. Great, I think sarcastically, just another thing to make me one of the Mockingjay Babies.
"Fallyn, are you even listening?" Callie's high-pitched voice somehow snaps me back to reality. "I was talking about your father in the History video this morning. That's how he lost his leg, right? I mean, from being in the Hunger Games?" Oh, right. The Hunger Games. What we're learning about.
"Um, ya, he, uh, got his leg cut from that one guy." I say quietly. Callie rolls her eyes at me. I never really liked her. I could tell from the start that she just wanted to be friends with me because she was told to by a thriving social parent. I have to give her props, though-usually people like that stop hanging out with me after about a week. Tired of being around me, I guess. I'm not really a people person. Again, unlike my brothers. Go figure.
I can sense the predator approaching me from behind long before whoever it is reaches me. Probably from years of hunting with my mother, although I don't stop to ponder this. A large, cold hand lands on my shoulder and I am already prepared. When I use my understated muscles to pull said hand and hurl the man on the lunch table, I get a good look at him. My opponent is a large bald man wearing a business suit with a headpiece in one ear. He's been prepared for me to do something like this, I can tell, because he's on his feet again in a flash. I dodge his fist and plant my own deep in his gut. When he doubles over, I slam him into the hard tiled floor and punch him in the throat before pinning his body down with my own. I want to know why this mysterious figure is trying to hurt me.
"I really have to compliment your hand-to-hand combat skills. We figured you'd know how to defend yourself somewhat, but nothing like this." The man's deep, gravelly voice scares me. I look my attacker strait in his cold, hard eyes.
"How foolish of you, then. I did learn from the best, you know." I say, trying to sound as menacing as him. The man just laughs.
"You're just like your mother. It was quite an honor of me to be on a mission involving such important figures in the rebellion itself. Now that I think about it, we were smart to include the entire family in our plan." I punch him in the jaw hard and fast before I can stop myself. I truly hope he doesn't realize that what he just said cut me to the very core. Because if this man is trying to hurt me, then surely some one will be going after an innocent young girl with kinky-curly blonde hair and big blue eyes. Some one who I love with all my heart. Some one named Rosy Mellark.
"What did you do with my little sister?" I try to keep up the 'mean' act but fail because my voice cracks at the end. My head is filled with only thoughts of sweet little Rosy. She's just 11, not yet old enough to learn about mother and fathers' past. Not yet old enough to be taught how to fight, hunt, and survive, if it came to that, by our parents. The man seems to realize that thinking about Rosy is a weakness.
"Oh, you won't have to worry about her for much long-"
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?" I shriek. The man just smiles, and presses a button on the side of his watch. Suddenly, 2 more men dressed just as the first one appear and lift me into the air. I thrash around, trying to find a way out of their grasp, when I see my brothers' bloodied, unconscious bodies being dragged out of the building. One of the men punches me in my cheek, hard, and kicks the side of my body.
I see even more suited figures poring out from behind shadowed corners and deserted hallways. They all have small pistols waving around in the air. I see panic in each and every one of my classmates' eyes. What is going on? Just as I am tossed into the back of an SUV with my mutilated siblings, the shooting begins.
So, 'wherewithal' means that which to do something. Fallyn is soon going to realize that she is an important part in the war that is to come. I'm thinking about making this into a full-blown story, but I need support(: Review, please! Seriously, 'good job' would just make my day…Thanks for reading!