Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games
District Nine Reaping
Violet's POV
I woke up fifteen minutes before we left for the reaping. I had a very effective way of getting up and dressed in the mornings. I pulled on her shirt and skirt quickly and brushed my long black hair, leaving it down. I wish I had taken the time to glance in the mirror one last time, my last time to look at myself as a normal girl. I know what I would have seen, but it would have been nice to be reminded. Tiny figure, tiny everything, except for my giant feet and the length of my hair. My long hair was deep black, with an ever changing streak in it. This time it was deep red, giving me a slightly scary look. Large purply-blue eyes and a sprinkling of freckles. Cute, but that doesn't matter, does it? Not in these games.
A little later and I was standing with the other fourteen year old girls, not particularly worried. I was smart enough to know the odds of my getting chosen. They were slim. However, people with very slim chances have won before.
Next thing I knew, they were calling my name. Slim chances, eh? That little sarcastic voice inside me said, as I watched my world spiral away from me.
I was numb as I marched to the stage, unfeeling and uncomprehending. Then I looked into the audience, and saw my mother crying silently into my father's shirt, who was stunned and upset. Kewlani, my brother stared at me in despair and I could see a few tears rolling down his cheeks, which screwed me over. When your older brother looks at you with death written in his face, you know that you will be destroyed. A jolt ran through me, and I started to march back down.
"Hey-" the escort started, but I cut her off.
"Look, I'm not supposed to be up here. I refuse to be the tribute. I'm getting off of this slaughterhouse!" I cried, then froze when I heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked. The Peacekeepers held their guns pointed at me, six of them at least. The Head Peacekeeper, Entomophag, paced leisurely up to me.
"I'm afraid that's not the way it works. Unless someone volunteers, you're stuck up on this…slaughterhouse, as you so eloquently put it." I froze-I had realized that it was a streak of insanity to walk off that stage, but I didn't realize it was a suicide mission. I trembled and stumbled back up to the platform. I soon realized there was no way to get out of this, and I knew my murder was inevitable.
Torrent Montague's POV
My last year for a chance in Hell. That was my first thought when I woke up. Eighteen years old, I was already pretty accomplished. I was pretty good hunter, which is really all you need if you want to do well in District Nine. My mother dead and my father a drunk, I had been taking care of myself for quite some time.
When I watched the girl's Reaping, I felt bad for the girl, but she kind of had it coming. Yes, it sucks to be a tribute. Yes, she'll die in a few weeks. Yes, her family's life will be destroyed. Yes, she was very young. I could go on and on with my list. But, that happens to about eighteen other tributes every year. You just can't walk off that stage. If you could, the Games wouldn't exist. I was mulling this over as the escort plunged her hand into the boy's names. Just one last chance to be Reaped, I thought with a chuckle.
"Torrent Montague." Oh, irony. What a cruel master you are. I saw heads turn in confusion. Only a few knew me, my hunting buddies. And even they barely knew me. We were more of, say, acquaintances. But, I preferred to fade in the background and did so quite well.
My head reeled with fear and anger and sadness as I stepped up to the platform. I could now understand exactly why that girl had walked off the stage, and almost did so myself. But the Peacekeepers now had their guns trained on me, and I knew that the only way to survive would be to go to the Games.
Ha! Never thought you'd hear a tribute say that, did you?
Meanwhile, the escort was squealing about me being…handsome? I mean I guess I look okay, leaned, tanned and muscular from all my hunting, and shaggy dark hair and eyes, but I had never thought I was that special.
But I didn't worry. The Games would make me special.
A/N: District Niners! What? I have no idea. So, bye for now. I loooooove you all!
Right, a lot of exclamation points, real professional…
-Stepping on Leprechauns