Chapter 2
A/N: Wow! Thanks for all the follows readers! Made my days!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of this fanfic.
Happy Hunger Games?! What the heck is that?
I look around, trying to grasp an understanding of what's going on. It's not working.
"And now to pick our first tribute, as always, ladies first," the woman in pink on the stage says.
Tribute? For what? Maybe to get back to my dimension?
The pink woman walks carefully across the stage to a spot between two large white bowls holding, from what I can tell are folded up sheets of paper.
She sticks her extremely manicured hand in one bowl on the right and yanks out one piece of paper.
She takes her time to unfold it, and during this time I observe the girls around me and their faces. They look scared.
Finally the lady in pink speaks again.
"Primrose Hawthorne!" the woman calls.
What little chatter there was now becomes dead silence.
Then the crowd begins to part to make way for the lucky girl.
I spot the girl who timidly walks up and makes her way with some wierd looking guards to the front of the stage.
Just seeing her, wearing long blond braids and tears pouring down her face from her bright blue eyes makes my heart ache. I suddenly think into the future, well the future from what dimension I came from and I just think that some little girl that could be mine could have to go through something like this, even though I don't understand why she is crying.
Before I can even think twice about a thought forming, I blurt out among the crowds, "Wait! Wait a second! I volunteer! I volunteer!"
Everyone around me turns to look at me surprised. The little girl has stopped in her tracks and looks at me, doe eyed.
"Go," I say to her gently, trying to let her know that she can go to her family before the guards stop her.
She gapes at me.
"Go!" I say earnestly.
She darts away somewhere inside the crowd.
The guards push me up to the stage and I'm met by the pink lady.
"Well this is quite a rare piece of history; a volunteer for a poor district! Don't be shy, what's your name?" the lady asks.
"Katniss Everdeen," I say to her, a little unsure of what the whole deal is.
The lady nods and then heads over to the other big bowl and fishes for another paper.
"Peeta Mellark!" she calls out.
I spot a boy my age—well the age I am at the moment and he looks shocked.
He walks up slowly, yet confidently to the stage, trying to grasp the reality of what's going on. Maybe he is also new here!
When he stands beside me, we are forced to shake hands and this is when I get a good look at him.
He is a broad shouldered, strong muscled, cute, attractive blond.
When our hands meet, I feel a spark jolt through mine and I am shocked by the feeling. Why am I feeling like this? This is just some guy who'll be my ticket out of here an back to Gale. But looking him in the eye, any thoughts of Gale just disappear.
I shake my head, trying to focus on my goal: trying to get home and getting some research done on this dimension.
A moment later the pink lady leads us out of the stage and the building behind it. I am led to a small room on one side as the boy, Peeta, is led to the other side of hall. I sit there by myself wondering why I am here.
A knock startles me out of my thoughts.
The small little girl with the blonde braids peeks through the crack in the door.
"Excuse me," she says.
"What are you doing here?" I ask her.
"I want to thank you very much for saving me. It means a lot to me. I have to take care of my younger sister since my mother isn't mentally well since the death of my father. Without you, I'd probably die in the arena and my baby sister would die," she says. "Here, I don't have much, other than my father's old pocketwatch, but I want you to have it out of gratitude. You'll never know when you might need it."
"I-I can't take it. Keep it, you could use it to help you survive," I reply, trying to give it back.
"No, I'd feel better if I knew you had it, please, keep it and remember me," she insists.
"Thank you," I say finally, looking down at the gift.
She nods and then leaves the room.
"Wait! Are you related to Gale Hawthorne?"I call out.
She looks surprised at the name. "Yes," she replies and the hardwood door shuts closed.
This girl knows of Gale. How?
The pocket watch steals my attention.
I stare at the treasure. It's golden coloured and rounded brass too. I open it and am met with a weird bird shape within the glass of the clock. I snap it closed and pocket it in my dress after rubbing my thumb over its metal.
What am I going to do with this?
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