Well, this is my first fanfiction. I really hope you enjoy reading it! Since this is about The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins owns everything. Please review the chapters and tell me what you think!
Chapter 1
"Shadow Corelli," says Ida Seemly, the representative from the Capitol who comes to District 2 every year for the reaping. She's reading the slip of paper she just pulled out of the reaping ball. I clap, along with everyone else. What an honor! I hope Shadow actually gets to stand up on the stage before someone volunteers for him. Last year, the tributes barely made it ten feet before they were replaced. Shadow walks up to the stage from the roped-off sixteen-year-old section of the square. His dark hair has been parted today, and I almost burst out laughing, since it's so different from his usual style. He goes up the steps, a proud smile on his face, but there's something wrong. The clapping has subsided, as usual, but there's no voice from the audience. No "I volunteer!". No "Let me take his place!". Shadow notices it, too, and gets a panicked look in his eyes. This can't be happening. Not to Shadow. Even worse, if the pattern continues, the next person called will be—
"Leda Cleary!" It's me. I take a deep breath, brush aside a loose strand of hair, and start walking towards the stage from my place among the other fifteen-year-olds. I smile, though I'm incredibly nervous. Why am I scared? I've been picked three times before. Someone always volunteers. Someone always volunteers. I take my place next to Shadow, my smile wavering. No one speaks up.
I shake Shadow's hand and whisper, "Why hasn't anyone replaced us?"
Shadow whispers back, "I don't know."
"I'm scared. What if we have to…"
"No," he assures me, "We won't have to go to the Games. They'll volunteer for us. They have to." I nod, and let go of his hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the District 2 tributes of the 73rd annual Hunger Games!" says Ida cheerily. It's too late for volunteers now. Peacekeepers come up on the stage to lead us into the Justice Building. No. I can't die in the Hunger Games. I won't. And I won't go into the Justice Building, either, because that's where the end of my life begins. I fold my arms and stay put. Ida tries to reason with me.
"Come on, sweetie, we have to go in now." I shake my head.
"No." I say, "I'm not going in." After about a minute of her trying to convince me, the Peacekeepers take matters into their own hands. One of them lifts me up, puts me over his shoulder, and carries me towards the door of the Justice Building, kicking, punching, and screaming. Shadow follows, silent as one of the shadows he was named for. The Peacekeeper puts me down, but not until we're all the way through the hall. He drops me on the sofa, but I immediately jump up. Before I can yell at him, though, he's out the door. He's taken Shadow with him.
I start to cry. This is the worst of luck. I expected that I would be called again, but Shadow? He didn't do anything wrong! How can we be sent into an arena together, forced to fight each other to the death? He's my best friend. He always has been.
The door opens. My mother walks in. Her eyes are puffy and red from crying.
"Four years in a row…Leda, how did this happen?" she asks.
"I don't know," I say, wiping my eyes. I hate lying.
"Don't worry, Leda. We'll raise money…for sponsors. You're going to win." This time, my mother's the one who's lying. Or maybe she really believes I'll come home. I nod anyway. We talk for a while longer, about meaningless things, like food and hairstyles in the Capitol. In a way, it makes me feel a little better. A Peacekeeper sticks his head in through the door.
"Your time is up. You have to leave now," he says.
"I'll try to win. I really will." I say. My mother nods.
"I'll see you soon, I know it," she says. We hug again, and she gives me a kiss on the forehead. Then, she leaves.
My next visitors are the twins, Minerva and Conrad. They're my older brother and sister. They share my red hair and green eyes, but all their expressions are different, hardened by years at the Academy for Volunteers. Their eyes are dry, but their faces look pained when they see me sitting on the sofa.
"We were hoping it wasn't true." Minerva says.
"We were in the back row, with the other underage volunteers, and didn't hear the names. Who else is going?" says Conrad.
"Shadow," I say.
"I would have volunteered for you, Leda." Minerva says.
"And I would have gone for Shadow," says Conrad.
Minerva continues, "But we were too far back in the audience, and we didn't hear about it until later. Even if we had, we wouldn't have been allowed to take your places. The instructors were watching us like hawks, to make sure we didn't volunteer early." I nod my head, knowing they are telling the truth. They would jump at the chance to fight in the Hunger Games, even if they were in it together. They're both seventeen, and they're scheduled to participate next year, in the 74th Games. I know one of them will win. They've been training so hard. Minerva is an amazing archer, and Conrad is skilled with a spear.
"Why didn't any of the eighteen-year-old volunteers take my place?"
"There was an…accident, yesterday during training. The entire group of eighteen-year-olds was deemed incapable to volunteer afterwards." Conrad says.
"We told you not to take tesserae!" scolds Minerva, "We don't need any, much less extra! How much did you sign up for to be chosen four years in a row? Did you think you would benefit? And now, you have all this grain and oil, but is it worth going to the Capitol to be killed?"
"She's not going to get killed," Conrad says. Minerva and I ignore him.
"No, but I was so confident there would be volunteers. There always are. You could have told me there weren't going to be any! You knew!" I say.
"It was too late, then! Once you sign up for tesserae, you can't take it back!" Minerva argues. We realize we're shouting at each other, and quiet down.
"Listen. There's only one way to get home at this point. You have to win." Conrad tells me.
"We don't have much time, but we'll try to give you as much information as possible while we can," Minerva says. I nod my head.
Conrad says, "In training, there are two options. The first one is to show all your skills all at once and intimidate the other tributes. I don't think you should go with that one. The second option is to go for the survival stations first, and then learn the weapons on the final day. Luckily, everyone will be so occupied with last minute training that they won't notice you, or find out how you fight."
"All right," I say.
"Also," Minerva says, "You should try to learn how to shoot a bow and arrow. I think you'd be good."
"Thanks," I reply, "I'll try it." Before they can tell me anything else, though, the door opens and the Peacekeeper tell us it's time to leave for the Capitol. Both Minerva and Conrad, despite their cruel personalities, hug me tightly.
"Take this," says Minerva, handing me a small package, "Father made it. He sent it to us to give to you, to wear on reaping day. Will you wear it for luck in the arena?" I nod, and slip the package in my pocket.
"Maybe you'll be teaching us in training next year," says Conrad. I smile weakly.
"I hope you're right," I whisper.