Hey guys,
So You may know who I am. If not, nice to meet you I am PeetaKatnissEverLark, I am a big hunger games fan, but for more info about me feel free to stalk my profile. Anyway, you are probably here because you saw this new awesome fan fiction I have created. So I don't really have a fan fiction based on the hunger games itself like the games. So I thought it would be fun to like create a story of a girl from district 7 (I made her up) and have her fight in the hunger games. So I have already pre written this story so as you are reading this I know who wins. So I wrote it for fun but really became attached to the character so I decided to continue it. When I write fan fictions with new characters I like to base them off the looks of a celebrity so the main character in my mind looks like Bella Throne at the age of 15 (don't judge me) As the story goes on I will mention who I think the characters look like in my head. Ok so anyway lets get into this story.
xx
PeetaKatnissEverLark
Summary: Some people say it's a sacrifice, some people say it's a death sentence. Those people are both wrong. It's not a sacrifice, It's not a death sentence. It's Torture. The story of Rowan Taylor and her journey through the 312th annual hunger games.
Summary 2: "I thought I would die in the blood bath. But when I saw the arena was like my woods, I thought of home and I knew I couldn't give up like that, I mean I know I'm gonna die, but I thought I might as well die trying."
chapter 1
As Rowan Taylor launched into the arena, rising up from beneath the earth tears streaming down her face as one thought came to mind I'm going to die now. She knew this was it, she would just die in the bloodbath like all the weak kids. The platform was now level to the ground as her eyes adjusted to the light. She saw the tributes around her adjusting too and looking around. The arena were woods, just like her wood from back home in district 7. She wiped her tears and pushed her light Auburn hair back from her face, she was suddenly filled with confidence. And for a second she thought she was home running through the woods as her father chopped up the wood for the fire that she would have that night. But all too quickly she was back, her hazel eyes looked to the clock, 40 seconds. All she had to do was grab a bag and get out then maybe she could survive the night. She pictured her older Brother Ash and her dad sitting in front of the TV, dreading the moments to come. All her life her brother was a joke always picking on her, teasing her, now here she is about to be slaughtered and he was at home in the safety of the cabin, watching his beloved sister die. 30 seconds. Ok she had to make a plan her eyes looked around the pine trees then back to the cornucopia where she spotted a dark brown backpack not to far away, no one was looking at it. She could see all the killing machines from district 1, 2 and 4 were on the other side. near the entrance, she was near the rear of the cornucopia in between a 12 year old girl and a 13 year old boy, being 15 she was bigger than both of them,.
"10" a voice boomed through the arena as it counted down the seconds to her almost certain death. before she knew it there was 5 second left, she positioned herself in a running stance looking straight at the dark brown backpack. 3 seconds. The gong sounded as people around her rushed into the cornucopia. She ran, faster than ever before, as the wind blew her hair behind her, she ran to the backpack picking it up in one swift motion as she started towards the woods, she heard a scream. within 20 seconds a cannon sounded, signalling the death of the first fallen tribute. suddenly a tomahawk flew past her landing head first into the ground less than 3 meters away it was a small tomahawk. She picked it up in a swift motion just as she had done with the backpack as she reached the line where the grass field met the woods. Cannons ringing in her ears. She didn't stop running afraid that if she did she would inevitably die, Then a low branch of a tree came out of nowhere slicing the outside of her left thigh, it stung. She didn't stop running. She had been running for hours it felt like, her legs burned, her throat hungry for water she was very far from the cornucopia now, she was sure of it, she had counted every cannon 9 people dead, 15 left.
For the first time since she started running she sat down on a rock removing her backpack from her back and checking her wound, Her wound wasn't that deep, but blood and pus was still oozing out. She ripped her pants around the wound some more not wanting the fabric covered in blood, or infect her leg. Hopefully there was something in the bag to help her. She opened the bag to reveal. some rope, matches, a bag of dried meat and apples enough for a couple of days, a first aid kit, a little bag with a dozen mini knives, and a small flask. She shook the flask and sure enough it was full of water, she opened it and took a small sip. she opened the first aid kit and treated her leg wound then used a bandage, covering it, the blood and pus had stopped pouring out but she was likely to get an infection. She packed her bag getting ready to continue walking, as she picked up her tomahawk she noticed it looked like the ones they had at home. like her Father's one, except the handle was polished oak wood. it was her Father's pride and joy, well apart from her of course. She wondered what her Brother and Father would be doing, probably crying in relief she didn't die in the bloodbath. She looked up to the sky she estimated it was about 3 in the afternoon as the griped her tomahawk tightly, she continued walking. Thinking about her strategy still trying to stay alert.
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