On the other side of the wall, the book fell with a thud and opened. The smell of a long forgotten time escaped from between its pages and brought back the long forgotten tale, of Johanna Mason, the District 7 tribute of the 3rd Hunger Games.
Present
Johanna…
I stood on a branch with my back against the trunk of a tree. The branch was the width of my hand and was the line between life and death, as I was standing 30 feet high in the air.
District 7 was the lumbar and masonry District of Panem. We cut the trees, carved the wood and made whatever was necessary for Panem. For the Capitol. The District was divided into the Cutters, the Cleaners and the Carpenters, in ascending order of status, pay and living conditions. There were Town folk as well, for food, clothes and such, but they were in in minority.
The fringes of the forest had shorter trees, which were cut, but the deeper you went into the forest the taller and thicker the trees were.
There was an electric fence running through the forest that supposedly ran all day to keep out the animals. But it failed at both. Not that it mattered. Noone came so deep into the forest. Noone climbed the trees and jumped the fence. And Noone hated the Capitol, the Games, the Districts, Panem and all the people in it. I was Noone.
My parents named me Johanna Mason. They were the leaders of the rebellion in District 7. I grew up in a cabin beyond the fence of District 7, which my parents had built. I grew up believing people wanted freedom and would do anything for it.
It was a lie.
The people of District 7 turned my parents in, to the Capitol the moment the rebellion started failing. They believed they were merciful by not sending me there too, and put me in a Community home.
I stayed there till I was sixteen and then I ran away to the Cabin in the woods, only coming out once a year. The reason? The Hunger Games.
The first Reaping day was by sixteenth birthday. I watched the horrendous Hunger Games, the only joy was that the Districts suffered, for letting the rebellion fail. They deserved it. Yet, as much as I wanted to believe I hated them I waited, watching, hoping to see the tributes rebel. Show the Capitol that the Districts were not there toys, not a piece of there games.
I was wrong. They all played to the tune of the Capitol. My parents died for the rebellion, and yet the Districts did nothing. Some said that we were not strong enough. It was true. The Districts had raised a generation that accepted everything the Capitol did.
But my parents died for freedom. As much as I hated Panem, I knew the ones I really hated was the Capitol. So to bring them down, I would spread the word. I would light the spark.
My eighteenth birthday will be my last. Because I am giving myself a present.
Author's note-
Okay, maybe the chapters are short, but I hope the interest is stirring. I promise the next chapter will be longer and much more, interesting. With new characters and twists *smiles evilly* And remember, this is 71 years before the 74th Hunger Games, so any characters sharing last names are ancestors of those seen in the books.
Though that is not any sort of confirmation that they will survive *smiles evilly*
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