Hey, you guys! So from now on I promise to give the absolute BEST QUALITY TO MY STORIES! Here's my pledge…I pledge allegiance to fanfiction, for the better quality of my stories. I shall not update, unless I feel it is the best I can possibly do. Therefore my chapters will be long, detailed, and precise.
How's that?! Good? I have a new system for writing stories now…so this should be interesting. I decided I needed to make changes after what not having any reviewers on the last chapter (cricket noises return!) NOOOOOOOOOO! Haha lol so I will not give up on you guys! Well ontra da chapie! So please REVIEWWW PLEASE! TELL ME IF I'M AT MY FULL POTENTIAL!
Chapter 9
The Reaping
"Welcome, welcome, to the new and improved Hunger Games!" The all too happy escort speaks cheerfully to the crowd. She disgusts me in here bright metallic orange dress/suit thing, and her bright orange metallic hair to match. She has a mocking jay pin embroidered on here right shoulder. Evan though it was the rebellion symbol, it's still of the highest fashion in the capitol. What idiots?! I think all of a sudden, I mean come on?! First they dress like lunatics, and then they wear the symbol of their enemies after war as a fashion icon. Ironic, isn't it. The orange hair doesn't surprise me, she's obviously mimicking Katniss's whole "Girl on Fire" thing she had going two years ago.
It's funny to think, here she is, most likely paying thousands of dollars, for her thousands of dollars' worth coat, to be embroidered with the mocking jay. While I'm here, with just a long distant aunt and uncle, who barley knows I exist. And don't care that I exist either. They were the ones left to feed me in my parents will. And they didn't, they abandoned me. So I was left to fend for myself, barely scraping by with one meal a day, from hunting outside the district boundaries.
District two was always supposed to be considered a "wealthy district." Well, it was, in some parts of it. For example the closer you live to the town square, the richer you are in the district. It's a beautiful area, shops and buildings scattered about for various different reasons. The markets filled to the brim with food, fresh fruits and veggies, meat, milk, everything that should be in a market. My personal favorite one to look at is the pie shop. Piled high with apple pie, raspberry, strawberry, you name it, it was there. My mother had always taken me there, before she died of leukemia. My father was a jolly man too. We used to be able to afford stuff like that, when I lived in a decent part of the district. After work we'd go and buy some pie's and surprise mother.
That is…until he died in an accident at work, they were making an archway of masonry for the reconstruction of the district 2 capitol hall. When all of a sudden, the archway collapsed onto all of the men in my father's construction unit, killing them all. Due to a small earthquake that had happened.
We had all felt the earthquake, and it didn't damage any other buildings because they weren't under construction. So everyone thought nothing of it. Until we found out several were dead…
My mother had passed away before my father. But he had kept strong for me; I guess that's another thing I missed about him.
There was a part of the district even poorer, but not the poorest, one of the two parts that was not known of in the other districts. This is where the minority of us lived, the ones who actually did all the masonry work. We could afford food and maybe one or two treats a day. And we scrapped by paying all of our bills. But still-maybe we really were a rich district, we lived better than the people of all the underdog districts-didn't we?!
But then, you got to the rural part of the district, only about 10 different families lived in this part. It may as well have been one of the underdog districts, because that's basically the only way you can describe it. I had to move to this part of the district because I couldn't keep up with the bills after mom and dad died.
All these memories have come rushing back to me as I stand here before this capitol prissy-cat. She continues gushing on about how much she looks forward to this year's games, and how much she is honored to represent district 2. Finally, she shuts up and shows the trailer about our rebellion that now is twice as long due to the second rebellion. But as I'm watching it, my thoughts drift off as to why I'm here In the first place.
I had come to the doctor two weeks in a row. The same old, but healthy man and same young nurse Nancy took care of me. The second Monday (four days ago as now today was Friday, reaping day.) The doctor told me that he wouldn't personally suggest it, and that I should recover more. But that based off of cold, hard, facts, and lots of his charts, my arm was good enough to use to compete in the games.
I personally didn't care what the doctor had to say personally I just wanted to compete in my game. The one that I have been training for my whole damn life. I was out of that hospital for good (hopefully.) However the doctor had the nerve to stop me on my way out the door.
"What?!" I snarl at him.
The doctor, not even intimidated by my anger responds by saying. "Give this pass to your stylist in the games; since I know you'll want to compete, I still want you to wear a bandage, even during the games. This way he will give the pass to the game makers and they will allow you to wear the extra cloth, err, bandage whatever you wish to call it, they'll send you more if you need them. So be sure to give this other one to your mentors, so they can parachute the bandages to you, ok?" He asks me.
This is an extremely nice gesture from this doctor. I am flattered, but yet creeped out that he would know that I wanted to compete in the games. But I guess I shouldn't be creeped out. I've been to this doctor many times, due to training accidents. He's given me many prescriptions or "time off." Due to injuries, and I've just about denied it all. This doctor does know me pretty well I suppose.
I want to hug the doctor, tell him thank you so much, as he has done a lot for me over the past few years, but I just reply with a simple,
"Okay, thank you…very much." And leave the doctor with a shocked expression on his face. I guess the small gesture surprised him. I'm glad I didn't hug him. I might have given the old fart a heart attack! I had chuckled at the idea of this.
I had then gone to tell the people that were in charge of the voting for the games, that I was back in the games.
Just then the video ends and our overly excited and dressed escort continues.
"Ladies First, Now remember you voted for the victors you wanted, and there will be four of them!"
"You have voted for….Enobaria Aboutt!" Shrieks the capitol lady, excited, as Enobaria is a capitol favorite, as much as I hate her.
Then the lady announces me "You've also voted for…Clove Kennedy!" She screams into the microphone, jumping up and down like a five year old, I'm a capitol favorite too, just a bigger one. This causes my already evil smirk to go wider and my death glare to be even scarier, if that's even possible. I walk up onstage to the smiling joker escort and the scowling Enobaria, and shake hands with her. Evil eye meeting eviler eye. As the escort announces the boys.
The boys that were chosen weren't a surprise, Brutus and Gale two more favorites of the capitol, were chosen. The capitol is probably now realizing that a majority of their favorites are going to die and are sobbing away into their multi-colored tissues. It's sick really.
I'm sitting here in the waiting room, just waiting for someone to come in to say good bye to me. But I know no one will come. My parents would have been the only ones to come. With their proud, yet worried eyes looking into mine, offering words of encouragement before we would part ways.
My eyes start to tear up, and I know I shouldn't be thinking of it. So I do what I must and brush away everything. That means the tears, and the thoughts of my parents.
Soon the peacekeepers come to get me and I'm walking through a mad mob of crazy photographer's I smirk and glare at them all. Giving the slightest hint of sexiness to them. As I am quite pretty with my brown eyes and black hair with light freckles on my nose. And even though I'm much shorter than the other victors parading through the crowd with me. I look just as deadly.
We arrive in the train and the escort simply says "You know the drill!" Winks at Gale and Brutus, who return death glares and disgusted looks, and then walks away.
Brutus and Enobaria wander off somewhere together and leave me and Gale standing together awkwardly. All he says to me is.
"This should be fun."
"Yes, yes it will be." I reply. Although the look in his eye says that he still has feelings for me. I on the other hand, am not so sure of what I feel anymore.
A/N: So just again wanted to say to PLEASE REVIEW! I really want more encouragement and responses to my story. I'm sorry if I messed up anything, but just know I truly tried my best because I love you guys! ;b (and cheesecake!) So, in summary…
REVIEW PLEASE!
