Helllo fellow fanfictioners! I want to start off by apologizing for my temporary leave. I have had an abundance of reunions, surprise vacations, and ice cream boats, and now the summer is almost over! Where have the months gone?! :( Though, I am glad to give everyone the next installment of this story! Also, I mentioned this is my last update, but I have temporarily deleted Lola's story. I want to make some changes to the plot, but it will be up soon! Also, if you have any suggestions/ideas/comments/questions, feel free to PM or review! Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own the idea of the Hunger Games.
Chapter 2: Goodbye or Hello?
I reached my home and secretly went up the stairs. I was late and would have to hurry if I want to make it to the Reaping on time. But why should I even have to go? I thought as I went into the bathroom to clean up. Our family didn't have to shower in buckets like some of the others families in District 12, but we didn't have a touch pad electronic shower either. It was an old wooden looking thing that was made out of some type of wood, with some silver pipes leading to a shower head. I think my dad must have built it when we were little, because I had used it as long as I could remember. Unfortunately, the water never got very hot, but it was better than bathing in a bucket. I gingerly stepped in, and took a quick shower, because I could hear Liam banging on the door!
I finished my shower and opened the door, in which Liam made a beeline for the toilet. Wow, Liam. We had a separate bathhouse outside, but everyone preferred this one. I went across the hall to my bedroom, and was able to choose from many of the dresses that hung in my closet. (aka: a rickety piece of wood that opened to probably a 4x4 foot space with metal rods on the wall.)
I picked a green dress, with pink flowers spattered across the front and back. I never really wore it often, so I decided to wear it today.
I slipped it on and moved to my vanity, and did a look-over in the mirror.
I looked myself up and down, and I have to say, I looked nice. And girly.
I looked at my mop of hair and sighed. It looked like a tangled mess! I could have just gone down to my mother and asked her to do it for me, but that was the one flaw my caring mother had. She could not do your hair to save her life. She barely knew the term of the ponytail, much less a braid, so I learned for myself, from some nagging from some of the girls in the District. I did my hair into a quick side braid, and plopped down on my bed. I laced up an old-looking pair of leather oxfords from some animal I did not know the name of. It's weird how time does that. I looked myself over in the mirror one last time, before stepping out of my room and closing the door shut behind me. I slugged down the steps to find my mother and brother sitting at the table. Now it was just my dad we were waiting for. He gave a small speech at the beginning of the Reaping every time, and this was no exception.
He appeared at the foot of the steps a few moments later, and we all headed out for the square.
We split up as we saw the crowd slowly gathering for the Reaping. I slipped into the line with all of the other girls, after getting my finger pricked, while my mother and Liam slipped into the stands with all the other parents. The parents in the stands were either concerned for their children, or could care less since it was one less mouth to feed. I could see my father zig-zag among the crowd to the front of the stage, where he stood polished and prominent, like he was every year.
We were one of the last families to show, so the "ceremony" didn't start long after. I stood there, bored, like I usually was. Since I had never had to sign up for the tesserae, a meager supply of grain and oil, my name was only on five slips of paper. Unfortunately, since many of the girls my age were forced to sign up for the tesserae to provide food for there family, there names would be in there about twenty times.
I looked up toward the stage to see the usual setup. Four chairs line the back of the stage. Every since the 74th Hunger Games, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Mellark have been the victors that will train and shape the new tributes. Then, one chair is for my father, the Mayor, and finally, Effie Trinket. Effie is the representative for District 12, so she basically takes us to the capital and tells us all this boring stuff we could care less about. Her blemish free skin and bubblegum pink hair have been replaced by wrinkle lines and pale pink locks, though she still acts like she's twenty-one. Her neon orange suit makes me wants to gag, and her shoes clink on the stage and she settles into her seat. I look to the sides and see two jars almost piling over with starch white slips of paper, and a wooden podium standing tall at the center of the stage.
We hear the familiar chiming of the town clock striking two, and my father steps up to the podium to deliver his yearly speech.
I love my dad, but he really isn't the best at delivering public speeches. And to make matters worse, it is always the same old speech, about the Dark Days and Panem and blah blah blah. I honestly fell like I'm in history class! Then he goes on to explain the rules of the Hunger Games, though we all know them by now.
"Now, it is time to give thanks to all of District twelve's victors," my father said as he reads off a tiny slip of paper that hold a meager four names. Three of them are still alive. First is Haymitch Abernathy, an old man who still hasn't gotten over his horrid drinking problem and the fact that he is always constantly eating something. He has really taken. It's hard to imagine he won the Hunger Games, when he surely has claimed first prize for the eating games. The last two are the Mellark's, Katniss and Peeta. They entered the 74th Hunger Games, and they both came out alive. Applause ripples through the crowd as he finishes off the list and moves aside and bubbly Effie Trinket comes up to the stage. I can see her slightly stumble as she reaches the stage, but she acts like nothing ever happened.
"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" She plasters a huge smile onto her face, but everyone knows its fake. Her face practically sags with all of the wrinkles that line her face. Her pale pink hair looks like a sick pig as the crosses the stage over to one of the glass bowls. "As always, Ladies first!" She digs her knobby fingernails deep down into the bowl, slips of papers overflowing onto the stage as she digs. It almost seems like she's digging for a particular name that was carefully etched onto a slip of paper. After what seems like ages, she finally draws out her long fingers to reveal two slips stuck to each other. Without a second thought, she plucks off one of the slips and lets it free-fall back into the bowl. She clomps back over to the podium, dragging her metal heels across the stage. She grabs a pair of neon blue glasses out of her suit pocket. Her perfect vision has now been replaced with her not being able to see ten feet ahead of her. She unfolds the crisp sheet of paper and projects the name loud.
"Shay Undersee."
Thank you guys for reading my story! If you have any comments, questions, or ideas, feel free to review or send me a PM! Thanks!
-DomoFan122
