District 3 Boy
A/N: Everyone has a story, one that maybe wasn't shared. All the tributes in the 74th Annual Hunger Games had a story, and we only know 2. Learn a bit of their backstory, and then their deaths.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Hunger Games. If I did, Clove and Cato would have won, not Katniss and Peeta. (Sighs happily, dreaming of Clato.)
Tecknik. My unfortunate name was called at the Reaping. Mine. Now who would support my little sister Dayta? She was 4, and we were orphans. Being 18, I was allowed to keep us at our old house, but if I died, she would go to the community home. I had seen those kids in school; with scars, angry red marks, and bruises. I couldn't let that happen to my little sister, she was so young, innocent, and fresh, like the first flower of April. Not that we had many here, with the smoke clouds from the factories clouding the skies. We hadn't seen a blue sky in months; they were few and far between.
My dad was an alcoholic, and didn't want a daughter. A few days after Dayta was born, he killed Mom. Then he died of alcohol poisoning a couple days later. Our neighbors took us in, helped me raise Dayta. When I turned 18, we were allowed to move back into our old house. I got a job making cell phones at a factory, and made just enough to scrape by a living.
I dressed Dayta in a nice blue dress, the color of the sky. I wore a black suit, and prayed I wouldn't get picked. We lined up in the square, and I had Dayta toddle over to where our neighbors were. I waved to them, and stood in the 18-year-old section. My name was called, and in a week, I was in the arena.
My life flashed before my eyes before Cato stormed up to me, and snapped my neck. Dayta flashed through my eyes, and I hoped she wasn't watching, as his hands made contact with my neck.
I just hope she remembers me.