The 1st Hunger Games

by StormCloudontheHorizon

The Capitol's retribution to the rebellious districts is both cruel and mesmerizing: a competition, pitting youth against each other for the bloody entertainment of the capitol... witness the beginning of the story... The very first Hunger Games.

1. Smothered

In the blazing heat of the afternoon sun, my brother and I waited. We should be tending, but even if someone had noticed our complacency, I doubt they would have minded. Today, our laziness will be waved away. We sit, idly chatting atop the fence outside our home, waiting. The dirt road before us was empty, and would remain empty, surely, until two hours from now, when we are to rally in town. A high pitched buzzing seemed to cover our words, muffling my brother's words. As I watch his mouth form and move around his words, I hear none of them. My mind is elsewhere. His may be also, but his skills of deception are much greater than mine, so I may never know. He notices my distraction, and falters. Our conversation halts.

"Do you think they'll really do it?" He asked, looking forward. His hands grip the wooden beam beneath us. " I mean, they could just be scaring us, right?" He turns his head to me and waits. His eyes are pleading. He may be older, and he may be smarter, but my brother has always relied on me to reassure him.

" I don't know," I answer honestly. This is a new experience. For all of us. "It's just as likely they will as they won't."

"I don't understand why this is necessary. We're done. We're as good as slaves to them now, why kill us?"

"To remind us."
"Yeah, that's the filth they keep streaming. But, Terra, dear," he asks, plopping down onto the ground and smacking his hands together, " to remind us of what?"

"You know what, Sam. They need to remind us of exactly what it means to rebel against the Capitol."
" I don't believe that." He's heading into the house now, yelling at my mother to find him some dress clothes. My eyes look out down the road, waiting for a sign of life. There is none. The pastures alongside are vacant. There is no breeze to break the swelling heat, nor a cloud to hide me from it. I wipe the sweat from my upper lip and lean back,staring into the sun. Welcome to District 10, home of livestock and slaves. Today though, both are hidden away, waiting for what we are to call 'the reaping'.