Well, here it is! My baby that I've spent months nurturing and re-writing. Please be kind to her. Reviews are welcome! ^-^
You didn't want to wake up, not today of all days. Your stomach churned in a sickening way that broke your resolve as your mind came out of the fogginess of sleep. Reaping day. Holding onto your pillow, memories of three years ago played through your mind. Your older brother, nicely dressed for his own upcoming demise, standing in front of all of District 11 as that year's male tribute for the Hunger Games. You had to watch your own brother's death alongside your father.
"(Y/n)." your father's voice grabbed a hold of you. "(Y/n), you have to get up."
No, you didn't want to. Not even if the Peace Keepers held a gun to your head. But the strained pain in your father's voice was the only reason you opened your (e/c) eyes and pull yourself out of bed. He was a strong man which gave you inspiration to be brave yourself. Both of you looked at each other with knowing of the possibility. Your dad placed a dry, calloused hand on your head and led you to the direction of the washroom. Shortly leaving only to return with your Reaping day dress; simple dull beige dress that you never really cared for. To you it was the ugliest dress you had ever seen, but you couldn't complain. You couldn't afford to, after all, your dad paid good money for it. After you got washed up and dressed you looked out the washroom window to see bright blue skies with a couple of clouds scattered here and there despite what a solemn day it was. It was like this on the day your brother was chosen as well. This made the pain in your stomach worsen and the dread in your chest deepen. Little droplets of water ran down your arm as you tightly gripped the wash basin. Your eyes concentrated on that single droplet running down your arm in the way that reminded you of when your brother died. He had managed to make it to the final five with some casualties. Wielding a sickle that was similar to the ones he used in the field gave him an advantage as did the searing heat which bit at his back and caused his skin to turn red.
After a couple more minutes of brooding, you collected yourself and went outside to meet your dad and head out.
...
"(F/N) (L/N)!"
You could feel your heart literally sink into your stomach, brain becoming dizzy as it registered what had just happened. No doubt about it as everyone around you stared at your frozen form. Looks of pity, glances of worry, stares of pure fear for your own fate. (Y/n), thusly you, had been chosen as the female tribute for this years Hunger Games. As you made your way forward your heart made it back up to your chest cavity and began beating rapidly. You knew something was definitely wrong today when you looked at the clear sky. The fast beating of your heart gave you a sick feeling in your gut. It got worse when you quickly looked up to view the citizens of District 11.
"For the male tribute. . .
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!"
Well shit. Today was not your day.
When Antonio made it up he still wore that happy smile of his, although you could tell it was a bit strained. It didn't reach up to his emerald green orbs.
"Hola chica."
He held out his tan hand, waiting for your own (s/c) appendage. Little spasms went through his hand, gently making it quiver. He was just as scared as you.
"H-Hey Toni. . ." you managed to choke out while grasping his hand. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. The odds were never in your favor.
Because now, you were pitted against your best friend in this years Hunger Games. You knew right then and there that you would most likely die.