So here is chapter 2! Hopefully this chapter will answer any questions or confusion, but if you still need anything cleared up, just let me know! And thank you to my reviewers and the ones who favorited and alerted my story! :) Anyway, on to this chapter!
Oh, and by the way I don't own the Hunger Games just incase you were wondering if I was or something. haha!
I fixed Tarragon's tie for him after his trembling fingers forced him to throw his hands up in the air then threw it on the ground. Tarragon is so much different than me. He feels so much all the time. I always tease him and call him dramatic, but he really feels and everyone knows it. He is so filled with emotion all the time and is so open to everyone about everything. He is just so sweet and innocent. I, on the other hand, am not. My only emotions that I really show are indifference and being a cocky smart-ass. It's not that easy to open up like Tarragon does.
"Haymitch…" His voice quivered and trailed off at the end. This was going to be harder than I thought.
I grabbed his shoulders and stared into his eyes, "one." That had been our mantra for over a year now. Only one slip of paper had the name "Tarragon Abernathy" on it. I didn't even bother to think about the number of times my name was in there. Too depressing and I don't do depressing.
"But Haymitch, the Quell…" Tarragon began again. Here we go.
"Tarr, listen to me, I don't care how many names they pull from that bowl, you will be fine. And if you are reaped, how about I volunteer for you, okay? I promise." I had to admit, I was a little nervous after the announcement of the Quell-the 50th Hunger Games. This year there were going to be twice the amount of tributes, four from each district. Poor bastards.
Mom, Tarragon and I got to the reaping only minutes before it began. I checked in, said bye to Tarragon, gave my girl a quick kiss, then headed over to the 16-year-old boy's section and met up with a couple of my buddies. I looked up at the stage set up in front of our Justice building. There was the podium, two glass balls, and three chairs. Then, three people come walking out and two filled those chairs while the Mayor, a well groomed man who is probably one of the most well fed in the district, goes up to the podium. He babbles on about the history of Panem and why the Hunger Games are so important. Just a load of crap that I don't listen to anymore.
I attempt to focus my attention on something slightly more interesting and lay my eyes on the two people sitting on stage. There was our escort-a strange Capitol woman with not a flaw on any part of her body or outfit. She had shoulder length rainbow hair; she had a large ring on every finger, earrings going up both ears as well as other piercings, and a neon green tiny dress. She sat upright, a smile plastered on her perfect, fake tanned round face. She has been our escort for about 7 years now. Bitch.
Next to her is she. The only victor of District 12 and this will be her 7th year mentoring; the 43rd Hunger Games was both of their first. She too has a Capitol-like glow to her. She sat, more nervous and less cheery than the escort, her unmistakable Seam eyes wide and alert. Katniss Waters. I gazed at her, watching her actions and taking her in. She had changed so much since she was first reaped. She had dark brown wavy hair that cascaded down and around her chest, framing her face perfectly. Her olive skin and those eyes were the only features that claimed she ever belonged to the Seam. She certainly took being a victor better than a lot of other people. Some turned to drugs or alcohol while others were hermits or stuck up regular Capitol snobs. She always appeared very grounded and with it. Well, she was hardly here anyway. She was always in the Capitol and quite the popular singer there.
Today, she wore a strapless, skin tight peach dress and silver heels. Her neatly manicured hands sat folded in her lap and I noticed she wore her locket that was her token in the games and has worn it every day of her life ever since. I wondered if her brother was anywhere near me. Breeze Waters was the same age as me, sixteen, while she was three years older.
My focus finally snapped back to what was going on in the center of the stage as our escort, Leta Lockheart, was crossing the stage in 6 inch sparkly heels to pick the poor girls that would be sent to their deaths. It took 43 years for District 12 to finally have a victor and it would probably be at least another 43 until another victor came about from here. She plucked her hand into the large glass bowl before picking one with her orange thin hand.
She then read the name and I held my breath in fear that it could be Skye's name, my girl. Her name wasn't even in there half as much as mine, though so she was most likely okay. "Maysilee Donner."
Immediately, I hear a cry and look over to see her hugging a group of merchant girls. I know her, not well, but she is in my grade and she is from the Seam. I feel sorry for the girl. And for her twin sister who is hugging her and sobbing. They pry her off and Maysilee shakily makes herself to the stage next to Leta.
Leta plunges her hand into the glass bowl again to pick a second girl's name, "Echo Skipivy." The crowd goes silent and all eyes turn to the 12-year-olds section. This is the worst. Stupid Capitol forcing 12-year-olds to fight in these games against 18-year-old Careers. I felt anger boiling up inside of me. 12-year-olds never stand a chance. In fact, only one 12-year-old has ever won. My eyes flickered over to Katniss whose eyes were tearing up and it was apparent she couldn't control herself. Thankfully, everyone's attention was focused on little blond-haired, blue-eyed Echo as she slowly shuffled to the stage crying. These girls would never get sponsors after this emotional scene playing out.
Leta just looked at them for a minute before crossing the stage to pick the boys' names, "Time for the boys!" she chirped.
So? What did you think? How am I doing with Haymitch? Let me know-leave a review! :) Thank you!