A new story:) I have no idea where this came from but whatever, try and stick with it because this is just more of a background chapter, next chapter things will get interesting...i hope.
Disclaimer: I do not own hunger games unfortunately (Cries) but i wish i did.
Chapter One: New Beginnings
This is the day I've been dreading for weeks.
I wake slowly, taking as much time as possible to leave my bed. It's a pretty nice bed, I mean, the mattress isn't lumpy or anything. Not that there are any lumpy mattresses in the capitol – it is the Capitol after all. In fact, my bed is pretty boring in comparison to most Capitol citizens. I have heard of people sleeping in coffins and floating giant eggs before and to say things like that make me hate them more, would be an understatement.
I hate the Capitol so much it hurts.
There's a bang on my bedroom door and I know before he's even walked in that it's Ezra, my father. But unlike every other morning there are no dark circles under his eyes and he's actually wearing clean clothes. Years ago I bet he was almost handsome. He still has his dark raven hair – my hair – but now his eyes are dull and lonely, destroyed by years of alcohol addiction though, he too, is free of cosmetic enhancements.
He stares at me awkwardly. Him and I, we've never had the greatest relationship. I have to remind myself that it's not my fault. "Willow, I've packed your stuff up into the car," he says, croakily. I acknowledge him with a nod and he leaves.
Just as I hear his footsteps on the stairs I remember something I'm supposed to do. "Wait! We can't leave yet. There's something I have to do." I dress quickly, throwing on the darkest clothes I can find, which happen to be some black jeans, and a tight leather jacket. I'm not really into the Capitol fashions but dressed all in black I'm almost just as bad. Dressed like this I could blend in right with the night. Stay in the dark forever.
I run down the stairs and past Ezra who's drinking from a suspicious looking bottle. I run down the street past all the other identical houses and apartments and mansions. I run until I get to the forest and then I keep on going until I find my tree. My Willow Tree. It's a little dark and I trip over a tree stump, landing squarely on the floor with a thud.
Suddenly it's way to dark.
I lay on the floor trying to catch my breath. Up in the distance I can see the sun rising. It seems so far away up there.
My mothers out there too, somewhere, in District 2. She's all alone. I try not to think of her because it hurts my head too much.
Eventually I get up and walk back to the car. Ezra is still stood waiting where he was before. He doesn't even raise an eyebrow when I walk past him and get into the car silently. I suppose he's used to it.
"Why?" I ask him. It slips out and could mean a number of things, but he knows exactly what I'm asking.
It is so silent it's almost painful. I stare at the long crack in the window screen from just over a year and a half ago, when I turned fifteen, and drove the car into the house. I still don't know why I did it. I guess I was just desperate to feel something.
"Because…because…I had to."
Terrible answer, I think, but I don't say anything. If you couldn't already tell I'm not exactly what one would call a people person. But that suits Ezra just fine because to be honest, he isn't either. I suppose I got it from him.
We drive and drive and drive until we get to the East side of the Capitol. It's a lot nicer round here, the houses are bigger and everything seems a little less dark. The prettiness actually kind of blinds me.
Our new house is the last house in a long row and is painted bright cyan, kind of hard to miss if you know what I mean. I help Ezra carry some of the boxes in and he nearly has a heart attach when he hears the TV start blaring. I almost laugh.
On screen a woman in a 'adorable' green suit and bright pink wig – an escort in the games – is saying, "Ladies first!" and picking a name out of a reaping ball. I suddenly feel very sorry for whoever's name is picked. After all it could have been me had I not been taken from District 2. I kind of wish it was.
A girl is picked and another girl – her sister- volunteers in her place. I sigh. I guess people never learn. Death is surely greater than living in Panem. This Katniss Everdeen is not doing her sister any favours.
But that's just what I think.
The Hunger Games, how I have missed you.