Disclaimer: I do not own anything even remotely related to the Hunger Games, wish I did but I don't. Please remember that this is an AU fanfiction by me so I may have chosen to change a few more unexpected details, so please don't be upset and I hope you enjoy! xxx
There's a light ruffling of leaves, the faint snap of a bow as my arrow shoots through the air and a thump as the deer falls to the ground, dead as a doornail with my arrow sticking out of it's head. I'm no Katniss, who's never missed a shot in her life and always gets them in the eye, but I'm no stranger to hunting either. Traps and snares are my speciality. I'm good with the bow, but an artist with the wires. As you grow older, you lose more of your will to live (in the Seam, at least) yet strangely find yourself fighting harder and harder at the days go by to do so.
I sling the bow back over my shoulder and go to retrieve my arrow. I walk towards the doe, and find she's relatively small and bony, which in this case is a good thing since my game bag is already quite full. I get out my hunting knife and sever off her knees and shins, then start sawing at her head. I don't particularly like playing with my prey, but I don't have a choice if I want it all to fit conspicuously, especially today with all the extra peacekeepers.
I can hear footsteps approaching from behind. I recognize them immediately.
"You ready, Madge?" Katniss's voice rings softly through the forest. She's already put her bow away and has two dead turkeys slung over her shoulder.
"Yeah." I reply as I stuff the last of the deer into my game bag and stand up. The grass is covered in blood but I'm relatively spotless, just a few stains on my hands and a smudge on my knee.
I put away my own bow and Katniss bags her birds. We walk in silence, side by side out of the forest and into the meadow. We stick together; always have and always will. Once we're back inside the District on the other side of the fence, we're extra careful. Reaping day is the most quiet day of the year and I'm willing to bet we're the only ones walking around on the streets right now. Might as well sleep in, if you can.
We remain completely silent until we reach the doors of the Hob, which happens to be throbbing with life, as usual. We're greeted by familiar, soot-covered wrinkled faces and welcomed back into the crowd of crooks and traders trying to survive in this cruel, pathetic world.
After years of bargaining and doing business at the Hob, we know our way around by heart and can no longer be tricked into unfair deals. We know exactly what we want, who we want it from and how much we're willing to pay.
"Morning, Albert." I say to the gruff old man behind one of the tables. Albert is a tall, well built man which could only mean he used to work in the mines, with typical grey eyes and hair so white which could only mean it used to once upon a time be blond. He smiles his almost toothless smile at me.
"What can I do for ya, sugar?" He asks, using the nickname I absolutely detest. If it were anybody else, they would have already gotten a painful bony flick to the forehead.
"Special delivery," I say curtly and lightly, resting my game bag on the table and pulling out the deer. It's far too big for my father and I and I'm not in the mood for more brutal cutting. Besides, deer meat tends to be tough and muscular, and so we (including Katniss and her family) avoid it when we can. Sometimes there's no choice.
Albert takes his time inspecting the meat and at last names his price: "Eighteen PDs*" He declares.
"What?! Twenty one at least!" I protest- wide eyed and open mouthed, slamming my cold hands on the table, which causes some people to turn around and stare.
"Sorry, sugar. Times are tough, you know. This is the most any old hag in this hole s' gonna offer ya." He says grimly. I trust Albert, and deep down I know he's right. He's always looked out for me, in his own peculiar kind of way.
So finally, we make the trade after he adds another fifty PCs (Panem Cents) to the price and I bug along, making my way around the stalls until I've sold and traded all I can, leaving just enough to split between Katniss and I.
I bug along, finding my way around the stalls, selling and trading what I can, leaving just enough to split between Katniss and I.
When I'm done, I wait for her by the entrance and within a few minutes, she's there. We walk out in silent agreement we walk out and head towards the town. That's how it is between me and Katniss, we don't even have to talk. We just know. We're so alike and used to each other, our company is the most natural thing in the world. A grey-eyed me. A blonde version of her.
Ever since we were little girls, we'd been sticking up for each other. From sharing clothes to having sleepovers, Katniss and I became sisters. We both live in the Seam, me with my father (my mother passed away during the peak of her illness when I was only eight), Katniss with her mother and sister (her father was killed in a mining explosion when she was nine).
It was on my tenth birthday when Katniss had first invited me to hunt with her. My father had broken his wrist in the mines and was sent home to recover with the bare minimal sick leave allowance. I was so starved that my hair had begun to fall out in the school bathroom. She was there, of course, and told me she wanted to show me something after school.
So, there she was, pulling my bony carcass under the fence and welcoming me into the forest- and the rest is history.
We circle off, turning the corner into the really high end of town. When we reach the last building, we climb up the marble stairs and Katniss rings the doorbell as I brace myself. A few moments later the door opens up and we're face to face with the Mayor's eldest son, Gale Hawthorne. Katniss does all of the talking since she and Gale have this weird almost-friendship. His father has a soft spot for strawberries, and luckily Katniss and I have the means to provide him with the berries he craves so dearly. For a price, of course.
I've been too lost in my thoughts that Katniss has to nudge me with her elbow. Automatically, I lean forward to hand him the small basket of wild red fruit when our fingers accidentally brush. I do my best to keep a cold face but I can see a hint of peach rise up to his face. He smells like strong soap and cologne. The scent is so foreign to my system it hits me like a wall and I start to feel nauseous. His hair is all slick and combed back, his skin seems a bit too lively for district 12. He's just so... clean.
He's wearing a pin-stripped suit with a silk handkerchief folded perfectly in the front pocket. Now I really feel sick. However, the whole thing only lasts a second before I'm back and free at Katniss's side. He gives her the coins and when she begins to count them, he shakes his head and tells her to keep the change. The nerve! She shrugs and stuffs it into her pocket. I open my mouth to protest but think better of it and don't. Not today, not on reaping day. Instead all that comes out as we start to back away are the two simple words:
"Nice suit." My tone of voice is completely flat as I realize what an idiot I must look like, jaw hanging there as though I'd swallowed my own tongue.
I'm already on the third step when I hear a genuine "Thanks," leave the lips of Gale Hawthorn. Or was it genuine? I'm confused by the nature of my own comment, since it was indeed a great suit- but I hated him for being able to afford it. Did he pick up on that or was he sure that I was merely being kind? The only thing I'm sure of is that I'll never find out.
On our way back to the Seam we can already start to see people awake in their windows and a few out on the street, so we strike up a mindless conversation.
"I wish we could just run away. Into the forest. Fuck this! Fuck the Games!" I say, perhaps a little too loud and Katniss isn't afraid to shut me up. I can't help myself. It needs to come out.
"Shh, Madge!" She tries to hush me. "Not here, not today. Besides, we have families to think about. Good luck dragging your father an inch past the town square. And Prim- can you imagine her out there in the wilderness?"She adds, trying to push some reason into my hot head.
We don't say much after that, and when we need to part ways, we begin to split our assets of the day. The money we earned, the turkeys we saved, a small piece of bread, some goat cheese she got from Prim and a small amount of salt we decided to splurge on for the occasion. Just as a treat for today.
I gently turn the knob and open the door to the small and weary Seam house which I share with my father. Although he's quite old, retired and no longer works in the mines, he's not completely incapable. Surprisingly he's already up and halfway ready. On the table waiting for me are two plates, each with a small fried egg and a few cooked root vegetables. He made me breakfast.
Life has always been extremely hard for my father, and even though my name is in the reaping bowl more times than I can count, even though I have been the soul provider for this family for a long time now, I never once blamed him. The fact that he saved up and went out of his way to make me breakfast means more to me than I could ever possibly explain.
I give him half a hug and a brief peck on the cheek and we sit down together, as we usually do in the evening. I'm still in my hunting gear and I've never been good at this sort of thing- affection, I hear they call it. I wolf down my portion and give up waiting for him to finish his. I excuse myself and go to boil some water for a bath. Due to the lack of time I can't boil enough of it and the ratio turns out all wrong, meaning that's it's still cold.
Afterwards, when I'm all dried off I pull on the only fancy things I own. My dress is a faded creamy white and used to belong to my mother when she was younger than me. I've been putting it to use for several years now, and the hem doesn't even reach my knees. However, it does cling to my thin frame in a way that makes me look almost half-decent rather than malnourished and poor.
I need to take a second to remind myself why I care; if they're taking away my life and my father's will to live then why on earth should I put on a show for them? Either way, in this thing, with the top of my back and my lower arms exposed the way they are I'll freeze to death before they even have a chance to get their hands on me.
I don't know what to do with my hair and since I can't find my comb, I tie the only ribbon I own (a pink one I got from my grand mother when I was born) into it and hope Mrs. Everdeen doesn't use it as an excuse to start fiddling with me. My blonde hair is still a bit wet but has begun to dry into blonde waves with split ends which I promised her she could cut off.
It's time to leave so I pull on my only pair of shoes (not counting my blood-stained hunting leathers), some black leather ancle boots which my father took the liberty to polish last night. I'm finished and so is he, so we lock the front door and head towards the town center for the actual reaping.
The square is packed, people from all over the district have gathered to watch and take part in the whole ordeal, Seam kids and Townies alike. I shoot my father a neutral look before heading off to the center of the square. What am I supposed to say? I'm so sorry that we're poor and I'm probably going to get reaped? I look away before I let it get to me and try to clear my mind.
When they start to corral us off I'm desperate to find Katniss, and find her I do, with little Prim holding onto her for dear life. Of course, it's her first year. I push and shove through the crowd of girls and make it to them in time. Again, there's no need for words. I give Prim a reassuring hug and compliment her hair. The back of her shirt is sticking out of her skirt but I'm sure she already knows.
Prim is like a little sister to me, since I have none of my own. I figure since we're already in town and there's a spare coin in my pocket (well technically it's not spare, since I put it there intentionally and I don't actually have any money to spare) we can all go to the candy shop afterwards and buy some peppermints or something.
I'm about to voice my plan when we're silenced by our mayor, Gale's father. Then, our wondrous Effie Trinket takes to the stage in her 8"" heels and skin-tight costume. She looks like a plastic bubblegum doll with her ridiculous bright pink hair and plastic face. It makes me sick to my soul.
Her shrill voice rings through the town center- and her accent. Oh, her horrible, horrible accent... Not two hours ago were me and Katniss out in the woods making fun of it. They play the damn video and the anthem and I can feel myself getting more and more antsy by the second. I grab hold of Katniss's hand and she squeezes back tightly. She;s got her hair up in intricate braids and a pang of jealousy shoots through my veins. My mother used to braid my hair, back when she could actually stand up and wasn't confined to her bed.
When the film which I have been trying to block out with every fibre of my being comes to an end, Effie shuffles her way back to the microphone, announcing that the reaping has officialy begun.
"Ladies first," she said way too happily, dipping her hand into the glass bowl and moving it around, getting a good feel of all the papers before pulling out one of the tags.
And then everything stops.
My head starts to throb and I begin to feel dizzy, realizing that I've forgotten how to breathe. My grip on Katniss's hand is so tight I;m surprised it hasn't fallen off and my heart is beating so fast and dramatically I can practically feel it banging against my ribcage. It's beating so hard and I can hear is it's internal rhythm as blood rises to my head I feel myself freeze. My hands are clammy and the hairs on my neck stand up as Effie scoots closer to the microphone and unfolds the paper.
If possible, my heart beats even faster and I can actually feel the waves of adrenaline gushing through my body as my stomach tenses and I hear her call out loud and clear:
"Primrose Everdeen"
And then all of a sudden everything stops, all the nerves go away, as though I'm drained of all my blood and all my thoughts. I imagine the sensation is somewhat like standing at the edge of a tall building and finally jumping off.
A/N: Alright, here it is and welcome to my wonderful world of Gadge, haha! Erm so yeah it's the first fic I've actually ever published so I'm kind of nervous about it and anxious to know what you guys think. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, sometimes I'm a bit lame when it comes to proofreading. Anyway, it's a bit long but it's the first chapter to I guess it's okay, I promise the others won't be! I really, really do hope you guys like it and want to know more, please leave me reviews and comments to think about, otherwise you can find me on tumblr if you like ( .com )!
* Panem Dollars