The First Annual Hunger Games 13
Her watch beeped, signaling it was time for the Reaping, which greaty annoyed Natashia. She was a no-nonsense kind of girl, and this whole 'Hunger Games' stuff was nothing but what she tolerated none of. To watch kids die on TV because they killed each other….ugh, just immature and retarded beyond reason.
"I'm off!" she called as she swung herself over the fence, brushing off her white wife-beater, which revealed her biceps and made her look all that more beautiful…and dangerous.
"Alright," Ol' Roger Mcginnins smiled to his daughter figure, admiring her slender, curvy figure, mixed skin, and carmeal hair as she walked off gracefully, in a stalking away, almost.
He had no regrets about taking her in whatsoever…..
XXXXX
I have nothing to lose and nothing to gain….it was unusual for most be singing in District 10, but then again, Mark Gearheck wasn't exactly 'usual', so he sang now as he walked to the reaping with the other fourteen year old's, so why does the bad always happen to me?
At least it was true. He was a loner, having seen his parents commit suicide together before his eyes two years ago. So now he was litteraly a shell of a person, walking around with only the music to comfort him. Nothing could knock him down…he was under the ground permantley now.
XXXXXX
"Natashia…." She was already boiling over in anger before the Reaper finished talking.
Her? Her? How the mess did they pick her? Ohhhh…she was going to kill somebody before they got to the blasted Capitol….She stormed angrily on stage, snatching the microphone and stalking to the male tribute bowl.
"Mark Gearheck," she barked out, "there. Now let's all go home and watch the two of us freakin' die and then rot in hell for murder."
She sent both bowls flying across the stage along with microphone in her fit of anger, and it took three tazzers to her chest for her too knock out.
XXXXX
Why do I get the feeling she's going to kill me? The black haired, pale-skinned, freckle-face boy sighed when his name was called as he thought this.
XXXXXX
"You are a fighter," Natashia was barely conscience, but she heard the old man's words before she heard him being pulled out, "I know you're going to win this."
When she finally regained enough sense of the world to be even more than angered than before at the Capitol, she realized she had a slip of paper in her hand. Closing her fingers gingerly around it, she read it with shaking hands and slightly wet eyes.
Use anything that can be used like a cattle prod
~Dad
Ol' Roger Mcginnuns last request to her before she became a murderer. She'd hold onto that request for the rest of her life.
XXXXXX
Since Mark had no visitors, the two were on the train in what seemed to be a split second. Natashia looked at him skeptically, shrugging when he didn't look back.
Guess he'll be a bloodbath….she thought as she uplooked weapons in a pamphlet from the train.