Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games :(
Wow, I am on a role with this fan fiction… I should probably write some more of my Harry Potter one… I will after this chapter.
District 8
Ivy
My red hair falls over my face. Sadly, the uniform they are forcing me to wear can't cover up the many scars from me cutting myself. I promised my mom before she died that I'd stop. I didn't. I'm disgusted with myself. The Mental Institution for Youth has been my home since I was fifteen. Apparently cutting myself counts as being mentally ill. Although a lot of the doctors here have told me about things I've apparently done that I don't remember. Maybe that's why I'm here.
I walk outside for the first time in years. The sun is bright, but I feel free. I smile. My friend Grim looks at me confused.
"Are you actually smiling?" he asks.
"I think the sun is what I've been needing." I tell him.
"I swear you have a split personality!" he rolls his eyes.
"Whatever. I'm just hoping this stupid reaping is over soon." I complain.
"Why? You worried they'll pick you?"
"Yeah, I actually am. I'm a danger here. Remember how I apparently escaped from this nut house and almost murdered a whole family!"
"Oh yeah… They had to call me up to help you out."
"Why can I never remember any of this?"
"Because you're mentally disturbed."
"Gee Grim, thanks for the support." I say sarcastically.
"Just being realistic…" he looks at my arms. "What are those…? Oh my-"
"It's nothing. I fell out of bed the other day." My eyes look at the sky, like they always do whenever I lie.
"You promised you weren't going to cut yourself anymore!"
I look at the ground.
I blew it.
Grim
I grab my friend Ivy's hands. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I…I didn't want you to worry…" tears fill her eyes.
"Well I'm worried now! Did you ever stop!"
"Um… for two weeks after my mom died. But I was too depressed to even move." She starts to sob.
I rub my temples. "You know what this means?"
"What?" she asks, panic in her voice.
"It means I haven't been as good a friend as I should've been. Please forgive me."
"No! No you've been a great friend. It's just… it's nice to know that I'm still alive…"
"Please promise me you'll quit! One day you're going to hurt yourself, badly."
"I'll stop…" she looks at the sky.
"And I'm going to visit you every day to make sure you keep that promise."
She rubs her eyes. "Okay." She smiles again. "Thank you for caring."
We reach the square. We're slightly late and I here. "Grim Nightshade!"
My eyes are wide. I hope this doesn't upset Ivy too much. I really don't want her to have one of her attacks. She doesn't have one but she gets slightly hysterical.
"NO!" she screams, clinging to me. "YOU CAN'T TAKE HIM! I WON'T LET YOU!"
I peel her off and walk up on stage. I try hard not to look too scared, for her sake. I don't think it's working very well though.
That's when the unthinkable, in my opinion at least, happens. The guy that read my name out says, "Ivy Chesterfield."
Ivy
My mind is foggy. I think I hear screaming in the distance.
"NO! NO I WON'T GO!" I realize it's me. Peacekeepers drag me up on stage.
I see someone's hair. It's green. It's Grim.
That's when I punch out a Peacekeeper and feel a sharp pain in my arm. Everything goes black.
I wake up in the train that's supposed to take us to the Capitol. I have no idea how I got here. Beside my bed is my friend, Grim. He looks worried.
"Is this real?" I ask him.
He nods sadly. I shut myself down, then and there. Just as I did when my mother died.
Grim
I see her eyes go vacant. I've lost her. That's it. I sigh and say, "Goodbye Ivy."
I kiss her forehead and leave the compartment.
My mentor is sitting at the food table.
"We lost her. She won't last five minutes."
He frowns. Then he takes out a bunch of photos and sets them on the table.
"Are those the other tributes?"
He nods. He never talks for a very simple reason. Someone cut his tongue out in the Games he won.
Each one has a name and age under them. On top is the district that they're from.
I look at them.
District 1 looks hard.
District 2 looks like they'll be tough too. But Star is… beautiful. I shake myself and look at the other pictures.
Looks like a tough year. There are three twelve year olds. My heart breaks when I see the picture of the boy from District 9. He has a haunted look in his eyes.
My mentor points at him and writes one word on the back. Schizophrenic.
How could anyone vote a schizophrenic kid into the Games? The girl from District 9 looks angry in her picture, as if she didn't want to be photographed.
I go to my compartment and lie on the bed. I try to fall asleep but don't succeed. This is going to be a long night.
