I want to say a big thankyou to laralulu and i'm sorry i didn't choose D3 girl, but it's just that you have submitted loads, so i wanted to let someone else have a go, sorry, and thanks! hope you like how your character has turned out? thanks guys, you all are awesome! review if you like it pleasey! just want the submitters to know how much i love each and every character, and i'm sorry for those who have to die, let me know if you liked how i portrayed your tribute guys! love you
Nemet B
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Archibald Marx- District 2
"MUM! GET ME SOME PANCAKES FOR BREAKFAST NOW!" I scream, sitting up in bed. Today was the reaping and I wanted breakfast in bed. Was that too darn much to ask for? God, she was so selfish sometimes.
"Coming, sweetie." My mother calls from downstairs. She better be. She hates it when I get mad, and I'm starting to now. She cries sometimes, gets upset when I'm mad at her. She always turns it around, so she gets the attention.
"Here they are honey." My mother says, laden with a tray full of pancakes and hot chocolate. She places it on my lap and hands me a knife and fork. A napkin was laid on the side for me to clean my hands afterwards.
"You took your time!" I grumble, before shoveling the food down my throat. My mum lingers in my room, watching me. "What?" I snap. I hate it when they want to talk to me when I'm busy. She flinches and scuttles out of the room. God, I hate my parents.
I finish off the food in record time.
"Daaaad?" I shout. "What do i have to wear?" I don't even bother to get up. My father will pick me an amazing outfit for me. What's the point of even trying to do it myself? He comes in not a minuet later, holding up a freshly ironed, black tuxedo. He lays it neatly on the end of my bed. He picks up my abandonded tray for me and leaves the room without a word.
I put on the tux, looking at myself in the floor length mirror. My straw coloured cropped curls sprung out in random directions, my skin was alabastor pale. But my big blue eyes stood out from the black of the tux, making them seem doll-like and handsome. No, not seem, I was.
I go to my desk and take out my favourite throwing knife from the draw. I throw it with great precision and accuracy that I get a good solid stick in the back of one of the chairs in my room.
I had a lot of furnature, but that was because my parents sold and made it for the Capitol. They ran the whole business, making them one of the richest people in district 2. They were looked up to and admired, but they would be if they had such an amazing son like myself.
I go downstairs into the living room and flop down onto one of the sofa's. My mum was sat in a big chair, staring into space. She looked worried about today. She should be. I could die. Her whole life started the day I was born, and it would end the day I die. But that won't stop me from getting what I want. Winning the hunger games.
"What is wrong?" I ask Rainbow (my mum) with a sigh. I roll my head lazily over in her direction, staring at her patronizingly.
"Nothing is wrong dear." She says, coming out of her trance. "Do you want anything before we head off?" she asks with a smile. That's more like it. She needs to concentrate on me. Today, is my day. Today is the begining of my brilliant victory.
I shake my head. I don't want anything right now, but when I do, she better make sure I get it.
I'm a spoiled pretty boy. I know that. Whatever I want, get it. And thats why I want to enter the games. It's something I want, I want to be a victor, but I know that only I can actually get it. I can't get someone to win it for me, as appealing as that sounds.
I'd had been training since I was little, but now that I know what I truly want, I've been training harder than I ever had before. But, I still threw tantrums when I missed my target.
My father comes down wearing the exact same suit as mine. He see's me and beams down at me. I roll my eyes, but i can't be bothered to make a big deal out of the same outfit.
When I get to the square, I leave my parents without even saying a goodbye. I just lope off towards the 13 males section, and meet up with some guys from school. They all high five me and congratulate me on my bravery for being a soon-to-be victor. A couple of boys nearby suggest that they might volunteer next year. I quickly steer the conversation back to me, telling them all about my strategies and my methods of killing.
But all too soon, we have to pay attention to the stupid mayor, who just babbles about nonsense. I have a quick nap, planning on waking up when it's my time to shine.
But my nap is interupted by a loud thud, echoing through the square. I look around curiously and see a pretty girl lying on the floor unconsious and an even prettier girl stood over her, her eyes blazing but her face serene. The prettier one walks to the stage and announces her name. I don't listen, because I don't care. She has to die.
Our escort goes to the male reapong ball and reads out, "Quinn Osmond." A big burly guy heads towards the stage, but I butt infront of him.
"I, Archibald Marx, volunteer to be a tribute, and plan on being the one coming home. Victory for district 2!" I yell, fist pounding the air. Quinn glares at me and the girl tribute looks at me with a emotionless expression. It totally means she digs me.
I take my place on the stage and wave to my adoring fans who are cheering me on after my little speech. I want to win. And I always get what I want.
