Author's note:
Hello again! Thanks for reading that first chapter and continuing on (That was the prologue. This will be chapter one). I wanted to let you know what has happened in the past 20 years and how Panem rebuilt itself into New Panem. I gave you Katniss POV and hope to revisit that. Know that I may be switching POV's in the middle of the chapter (Not this one though). I will let you know in bold if I do change POV.
Thanks,
-LTCF
District 12
Reaping Day
I light a cigarette. No one notices.
I began collecting restricted items in spite of my mother. Even though she says she still has some 12 in her, she has completely changed. She comes by and visits 12. She says she is just on business, but I know she is here to check up on me.
Peeta tried a bit harder to connect with me, but it just wasn't genuine. He hasn't given up, but he won't have to even try once i'm killed in the Hunger Games.
Yeah, I know it's hard to call, but based on how little our population of 16 to 18 year olds is here, the odds are not in my favor.
I sit up in my bed, cigarette clenched between my teeth. I notice a bottle of beer next to my bed as smoke billows out of my mouth. I have a bad hangover.
I've heard all about how smoking is bad for you, but if I'm gonna die, my mom will give me the advanced medications to treat me. Because she "loves" me. Like I believe any of her stories. She just wants to keep me alive long enough to turn me back. She thinks she may be able to bring me back home after the games. But I'd rather die than go back with her.
I sluggishly swing my legs over the beer stained sheets and open the smoky drapes. Nothing like the smell of Reaping day, I think even though I've never even experienced a Reaping.
I casually walk downstairs and down the street. I reside in the Victor's Village. It was never bombed by the Capitol. Smoke filling my charred lungs, I continue down the street.
Its early. 5 am, it seems like. I breathe in the fresh air, knowing these were my last few hours in District 12. And I would spend them going insane.
My head hurts from my hangover and I can start to feel a migraine in my temples, so I go to the one place I go to drown my sorrows and sink myself into oblivion: the wine cellar.
I trudge back to my house and down the stairs. I smell the sweet, sweet smell of whisky and know I'm in the right place. I open the door to the cellar and see the bottles lining the sides of the room. I pull out one of my favorites, one that I've been saving for a long time, and drown it in one go. I begin to feel dizzy, and soon collapse into the chair that I have positioned perfectly for scenario's like this. I grab another bottle, not my favorite, but still just as sour, and drain that one too. And another. And another. I laugh hysterically, then fall into a deep, drunken sleep.
I wake up and find that I've slept until around 8 o'clock. I slowly and shakily stand up and make my way up the stairs with a beer in my hand. I step outside, fresh air filling my liquor stained, smoke charred lungs once again. I decide to take a stroll.
It's foggy, but I can make out a helicopter landing in front of the Justice Building. I already know who's on board. damnit, I think as I duck back behind a wall, leaving a trail of smoke from my mouth. I hear voices from down the street.
"...important for the district that I'm here," I hear my mother's voice as she walks off the helicopter.
"I understand but they may think you're bias."
Oh great. Peeta.
"I know. But I just have to see him before they ship him off to the arena," Katniss says.
They're talking about me.
"If you really want to keep the peace, you shouldn't be here, sweetheart."
Haymich.
"Fine, I'll go back to the Capitol. I just have to talk to him. He could be safe from all of this. I could make him safe," Katniss says.
"But you can't," Peeta argues, "You'd put him and yourself in more danger."
I stick the cigarette back in my mouth and step out with my hands in the pockets of my jeans.
"Looking for someone?" I ask innocently, blowing smoke into their faces. They both cough hysterically as I stand there as if I was doing nothing wrong.
"Boy, I hope they let me use my cigarette in the arena. I could burn the whole place down!"
Katniss reaches for my cigarette but I snatch it away.
"Ah ah ah!" I cackle insanely. I've always wanted to do this, "Have you forgotten you 'please' and 'thank you's?"
Katniss shoots me a glare and I return it. Haymich laughs.
"Now, can the two of you stop this?" Peeta says angrily.
"Ah, I've almost forgotten about you, Peeta. Always trying to be the hero. Her hero," I say dreamily, fluttering my eyelashes like a little schoolgirl. Peeta turns around, his face flushed with anger. Haymich laughs, uncontrollably this time. I smile, knowing my job is done.
"I just wanted to say goodbye!" Katniss screams. Everyone goes silent.
"So this is your doing. You're going to send me into the arena because you hate me," I say, calmly at first, take in a shaky breath, then I yell, "You are the one behind this! You want to kill me! You want me dead!"
My eyes are filled with rage and insanity. I can feel myself boiling to a point that I've never reached. I let out a cry and lunge at Katniss uncontrollably. As we struggle, Peeta tries to rip me off her. Then Haymich begins to help Peeta, and the two men drag me off her. Katniss is in some state of shock.
"You're right," she breaths, almost to herself. Then she looks me dead in the eye and whispers coldly, "I do want you dead."
I watch as my mother orders her minions around, setting up shop in 12. The Justice Building turns into a wonderful masterpiece. I notice that she has recently added two bodyguards to her protection unit that used to only consist of Peeta.
The citizens that were within the age limit staggered toward the Justice Building, not have had nearly enough food this morning, me, among them, have had nothing for two weeks. I notice one of the guards puts a sandwich down, and I snatch it. Hunger has driven me insane.
Soon, as it most of the time does, it rains. But this time it's raining hard. The bullets of water hit my frail build. They seep into me, weakening me to the point where I go up to my mother and ask for a blanket and some food. The other 5 kids follow me.
Peeta and Katniss give us food for our families, even though I don't even have one. She lets the others go and bring the food home before the Reaping. Katniss sits me down.
"Look," she says, staring deeply into my eyes, "If you get chosen today, it is not my doing. Everyone here has there name in there once. The odds are just...not great."
I nod, the knot in my stomach just tightening, my muscles clenching, my jaw setting. She sees me do this, knowing I'm uncomfortable. She scowls, playfully, trying to make me feel better, but it doesn't help. And then, for the first time in years, I do something.
I cry.
The tears come as I lean into my mother. She takes me in her arms, just as Peeta comes in. The three of us embrace, for the first time in years. And I realize something. It feels so good to be loved.
"I-I-I'm sc-sc-sc-scared," I say between sobs.
"We'll help you," Peeta says softly.
"We'll help you," Katniss echoes, and I know that's the only sentimental thing she could say.
I break away from both of them. I look deeply into Peeta's eyes with genuine hurt and sorrow because I know only he will respond to what I'm about to say.
"Promise me," I say, "Promise me that you will help me."
"I promise," Peeta says and I believe him. Katniss nods.
I glance down at my watch and see that it is 1:50 pm. The reaping is set to start in 10 minutes. I sit up.
"You need to get back to the Capitol!" I exclaim.
"We're staying here," Peeta says as he puts his hand on my shoulder to relax me.
"We need to get going," Katniss finally says after a long silence. I nod. I hug the two of them one more time and head outside.
The air is crisp as I step outside, even if it has stopped raining. I look at the five others standing there, two boys and three girls. I'll be the third boy. I wipe my eyes, quickly reading their looks. Some of them look like they have been crying with their parents too. I quickly take my place among them. Katniss looks out from the balcony, our national flag, the Mockingjay, hanging from the sides.
I see a cameraman give her a "3, 2, 1," and she begins over District 12's live speakers:
"Welcome, one and all, to the first annual Hunger Games in New Panem!"
She says this while not breaking eye contact with me. I already know she hates this.
"The board and I have decided to reinforce the Hunger Games, but in a much safer way. Tributes will be spawned into the arena at different areas with a pack and the weapon of their choice. However, if any weapon too extreme is chosen, the Tribute will have no weapon. There will be a list of weapons available.
"Only the fittest Tributes will actually make it into the arena. However, if you do not try your absolute hardest to get into the arena, you will automatically be put in the arena.
"Each tribute will have an individual trainer that will only focus on them and their strategies. The tributes will also be given a mentor and stylist.
"There will be sponsors from the districts, and anyone wishing to come to the parade of the tributes will receive transport. Please speak to your mayor.
"And finally, may the Hunger Games begin!"
She steps down and the fake applause comes from the sound effects. The cameras turn to the six of us.
Effie is our announcer.
"Hello and welcome to the Reaping in District 12!" she says enthusiastically. I could tell that she is excited about having her old job back.
"As you just heard from our President…" I didn't bother to listen. It was only until Effie finished that my ears perked up and my stomach dropped as if it was an anvil.
"As usual, ladies first," she says as if this was the 76th Hunger Games. Effie walks over to the girls bowl and grabs the first name. Her eyes flicker as she read it over to make sure she's reading it right. She looks confused and saddened. She walks back over to the microphone and in a small, shaky voice, she says this:
"Mist Abenathy."
Haymich turns around. Katniss and Peeta exchange a glance. I think, Goddamn, Haymich is dead.
Without a word, Effie heads over to the boys bowl. She draws the first name, not even bothering to ponder over it, just praying that it isn't who she thinks it is. She reads it like she read Mist's card, and with tears in her eyes, she calls out my name:
"Fletch Mellark."
Goddamnit.