Disclaimer: Thou shall not tell a lie so thou does not own The Hunger Games.
A/N: Promised myself that I would post today so I have. I quite like this chapter but I'm not sure. Anyway tell me what you think.
Chapter 2: The Reaping
She is running through the woods, tripping over rocks and tree roots. Tears are streaming down her face but here eyes don't look sad, they look distant. Then a hover craft appears above the trees, a huge claw reaches down and grabs her, lifts her high into the sky and into the huge metal shell.
I wake panting and sweating. I kick away my covers and curl up into a ball. I don't want to get up, I don't want to move, but I have to. It's time to get ready for the reaping, I wonder who will get chosen? I feel a smirk grow on my face as I leaver myself up from my small wooden bed.
I get dressed extraordinarily slowly, readjusting the bow at the front of my dress at least twenty times. The rose red of dress makes my already pale skin look snowy white. I look like a porcelain doll with my silky black hair reaching just below my shoulder blades and my straight fringe. Then there are my eyes. My eyes actually do look like they are made of glass, they are so shiny and bright. Green with flecks of gold in them, even if I do say so myself they are beautiful, maybe that is why people can't look away from them. I slip on a pair of simple black flats and walk into the kitchen where my dad is eating a slice of toast and honey.
"There you go weird Jam-Girl," my dad says pushing a plate of toast and jam towards me.
"Thanks Honey-Boy," I laugh grinning. I take a bite of my toast, "Yummmy yummy yummy jam in my tummy," I sing dancing round the table.
My dad pulls a face of disgust, "Yuck, honey is way nicer; I don't see how you can actually eat that stuff!" This is the only argument me and my dad ever have, in fact we have this argument every morning, which is better honey or jam?
"Admit it," I say, "You love jam really," I skip over to him and give him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Look the colour even matches my dress." I hold the slice of toast up next to my dress.
"They're different shades of red."
Damn, I'm stumped, "Yeah well, urm, honey is made by bees and bees are bad because they sting people so honey must be bad too." Beat that one dad.
"Aha but jam is made from squished berries, jam kills the berries! Jam is murder!" My dad looks around pretending to be all wide-eyed in horror.
"Dad," I sigh, "Berries don't have feelings."
"Yes they do."
"No they don't and anyway how would you know?"
"Because I am the king of the berries!" My dad cries adding an (awfully bad) evil laugh for effect.
"So you must like jam." I try, does he have a come back? Does he have a come back?
"No," shoot, "Why would I like something that contains the dead bodies of my people?"
Sheesh, urm, got one, "Because from the sound of you laugh you seem like an evil king."
"I am only evil to you because you eat jam."
"But Daddy," I bat my eyelids, "You can't be evil to me, I'm your little princess." I give a twirl as if to demonstrate the point. My dad looks at his watch.
"And it looks about time to make my little princess sparkle." I guess the argument's over
My dad and I lock up the house and head next door to our shop. We own the jewellers, it is not a big business in District 7 but the richer population pay very well for our goods. It's enough to get by anyhow. Every reaping my dad lets me wear some of the stock. This year I choose a huge gold necklace and an assortment of rings – nothing too expensive, not this time. Then I put on my charm bracelet, it has sixteen charms. My dad started adding the charms but then I took over, one gets added every year. If you look at them closely you will spot a pattern, each charm is linked to the winner of the Hunger Games on the year it was added. I finger the two latest editions, a flaming arrow and a loaf of bread. I smile, this will be the perfect lucky charm for the games, I think that was my father's plan all along, in case I ever got chosen.
We walk to the town square in silence. It is quite full when we get there, I start to walk over to where the fifteen year olds are standing – I always look out of place in my age group, yes I may be fifteen but I only look about thirteen - but my dad pulls me back. He gives me a quick kiss on the forehead and whispers, "Good luck."
I take both of his hands in mine and look into his eyes, "I love you, remember that." I say
"Ditto," we both brave a smile before he walks away. I watch him, dreading the heartbreak he is going to endure – heartbreak caused by me.
As Jakiry Himblesmith and the Mayor take to the stage along with our two victors I hurry over to stand next to my one and only friend Everest Campbell. His white hair (or just very light blonde as he calls it) is splayed in front of his eyes. He thinks it makes him look gorgeous, I tell him it makes him look stupid – lie, he does look gorgeous, so so gorgeous. I really like him, as in like like him. But nobody knows and I'm too afraid to tell him. I can only pray that it isn't his name that's called.
"Good luck." I whisper slipping my hand into his. Between us this is not a romantic gesture, we walked into school on the first day holding hands, it's just normal, friendly, comforting. He gazes at me with his soft amber eyes. He doesn't need to say 'you too' out loud, I understand. You only really know a person when you can have a conversation with your eyes.
"Good morning District 7!" Jakiry Himblesmith's voice booms out on the loud speaker, "Happy Hunger Games!" Time to see my plan in action.
I hop from one foot to the other as the Mayor makes all his 'important' speeches, the ones I have never listened to. Everest gives me a strange look, a 'why are you so agitated?' look. I shrug back and place my feet more firmly on the ground.
After what seems like years, or a matter of minutes as a clock would say, Jakiry Himblesmith steps up to the microphone once more.
"I think we'll start with the boys this year, what do you think?" rhetorical question, you're not meant to answer, something I often forget.
***Teacher – "Would you like to hand out these sheets Aiza?"
Me - "No."
Teacher – "Detention!"***
Jakiry dives his hand into the bowl and pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd holds its breath as he unfolds it.
"Zizal Karry! Congratulations Zizal, would you like to join me on stage?" A boy slowly stumbles forward, he looks as timid as a mouse, I bet he's only twelve. He has muddy brown hair and a very thin face. As he mounts the stage he looks like he is trying to smile, but failing badly. Jakiry gives him a quick nod before walking across the stage towards the girls bowl.
"Ladies?" Jakiry gives a mischievous grin. He picks out the first piece of paper he lays his hand on because of course he knows what name he has to say.
"And the girl tribute is... Aiza Monett!"
My heart plummets like a stone, hearing my name out loud I realise what I have been dreading I would come to think, that my plan doesn't actually work!
I thought it all out perfectly, went over it again and again in my head – so why didn't I see this one floor? I covered it up with a rug, convinced myself that it looked fine but in truth it doesn't. Trust me that floor underneath is really bad, it's unwalkable...
The floor?
I don't actually want to do this.
A/N: Aha what is going to happen next, is she going to reveal that she rigged it? Or was it actually her name on the paper? Will someone else volunteer? Will she compete? Will a banana come to life and run through the streets pretending to be Batman? Will she find a random pot of bubble mixture to play with? Who knows, well I do but that's beside the point. Question for you... what do you think happened to her sister? Tell me in your review, I would love to hear your theories. Anyway I probably won't be updating for a while because I have exams all next week (only end of years but we will be getting streamed) so I shall be doing lots of lovely revision ( sarcasm if you didn't guess). My total is zero hours so far lol. Thanks for reading and please review!
IMPORTANT: I need some help! Does anybody know what District 7 represents? I need to start thinking of a chariot outfit!
