D.J Grey's POV
"Hurry up, it's starting!" Bree yells from the living room. I quietly make my way down to hall to find most of my family surrounding the television. Bree had been kind enough to take me in when dad kicked me out. She is more like a mother than an older sister to me.
I take my seat on the couch, and watch as Tatum and her husband Franco walk in the from door.
"Did we miss anything?" Tatum asks, and I shake my head no. "You're right on time." Maddie says, barely taking her eyes off the screen. Tatum and Franco take their seats, and Callie turns up the volume on the television when the Capitol logo appears.
"Shh, it's starting." She says.
We all turn our attention to the television screen, and Star Bright appears along with her costar Elvis Showstopper. I personally though they changed their names, but it was a mute issue.
"Good evening Panem! As you all know, I'm Star Bright, and this is my costar Elvis Showstopper!" The crowd goes wild, and I secretly wonder if they're forced to cheer, but even if they were, it wouldn't matter because they'd cheer anyway.
"Thank you, thank you." Elvis says, and they wait a moment for the crowd to calm down before they proceed.
"Well, as much as I'd love to stick around, I'm afraid our time is cut short, as our dear President Snow has an announcement!" Star says, and more cheers come from the audience.
"Yes, it's time for us to find out how this year's Quarter Quell will be! Lets go live to President Snow!" Elvis says with too much enthusiasm, and the screen fades away from the two Capitol airheads to where the president is.
Callie turns up the volume even more, and Raegan sends a glare around the room, begging anyone to speak. Don't get me wrong, I love my sisters, but sometimes they can be a bit too much. Does anyone seriously want to hear about the Hunger Games? I know I don't.
President Snow takes the stage, followed by a young boy dressed in a white suit, holding a simple wooden box. He begins to speak about the Dark Days and how the Hunger Games were born. He says that when the laws were laid out for the Games, they dictated that every twenty-five years the anniversary would be marked by a Quarter Quell. It would call for a glorified version of the Games to make fresh the memory of those killed by the districts' rebellion.
He then goes on to tell us about the previous Quarter Quells. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it. This Games was won by Violet Mosel from District Nine." The oil district; hmm.
All I can think about is how terrible that would have been; to be voted in by your own district, your friends. I'd personally rather have my name drawn out of the stupid bowl instead of being voted in. I can't help but wonder what had gone through those tribute's minds. To know that they were disliked enough to be sentenced to death. I bet Violet was awful bitter to her District when she returned home.
"On the fiftieth anniversary," he continues, "as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes. This Hunger Games was won by Haymitch Abernathy from District Twelve."
Twice as many; the odds are it was twice as worse. Even more people had to die for someone to claim victory. And, as an added bonus, the arena had to be worse also. It was a known fact that Capitol liked to spice up things at the Quarter Quells, and this year was likely to be no different. I truly wonder how Haymitch, a guy from District Twelve no less, ended up winning the Games, when the odds were stacked against him.
"And now we honor our third Quarter Quell." The president says, and the little boy in white steps forward, holding out the box as he opens the lid. The camera zooms in on the wooden box, and now we can see the tidy, perfectly positioned rows of yellow envelopes. Whoever developed the Quarter Quell rules and regulations had prepared for centuries of Hunger Games. It was a sickening thought.
The president removes an envelope from the box clearly marked 75. Without hesitation, he slides his finger under the flap, and pops it open. Quickly, he pulls out a small square of paper and smiles; a smile of pure evil, no doubt. He returns to the podium, faces the audience, and without hesitation reads, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder that no matter where you are or how low-key you remain, we see and know everything, everything shall be shown on a live broadcast all day every day."
At first I'm confused, because didn't they already do that? With the exception of the training room, they already got to see everything live. But soon I get the feeling that he isn't done by a long shot.
"Any and all training sessions, minus privates ones with mentors and the training score session, will be shown on live television. It the arena, any and all deaths will be shown in the night sky as part of the Death Recap, along with the day's highlights. Let it be known that nothing can be hidden from Capitol."
There he drops the bomb. No death would go a secret for the tributes. In a way, this would help their games, but it would more likely hinder it, and quite possibly kill it. Nothing would be a secret; no skills, no alliances, and no secrets were safe. Everyone would know exactly what you were good at and just how good you truly were. You could fake weakness in the training arena, and it wouldn't matter if you ever used that skill in the arena, because it would be broadcasted to any and all remaining tributes.
This would truly be dreadful.
I zone out for the remaining portion of the broadcast, considering just what it might be like to be in the arena. I shutter at the thought. That wouldn't happen to me; it couldn't. There were ten times more people here in District Six than their were others. This wasn't District Twelve; all our odds for entering was decreased, and it was a one in a million shot that anyone would get selected. Certainly not me.
My family sits quietly, no doubt pondering the same things I am. Finally Maddie breaks the silence. "Well, it's a good thing it won't be any of us." she says with a happy and confident smile, and a few laughs break some of the tension in the room. But it's still here, there's no denying it. And under Maddie's confident smile, I can see the worry, and I know it's for me. I'm the only one left in the family that still has to endure the Reapings. Delila, Bree and her husband Rollin's daughter, was only two, and still had ten years to go before her name was forced into the bowl.
And I was glad. I loved my niece dearly, and I hope she'll never have to enter the games.
Maddie, Callie, Raegan, and Tatum and Franco stick around for a little while, but eventually get up and leave with a polite goodbye. I stand up and walk to the door. "I'm heading over to Tanner's." I say to no one in particular, and I hear Bree shout at me to be back before midnight. I shrug it off and walk against the cold wind of District Six and over to the closer inside the district homes where Tanner lived.
Myliana Rose's POV
Our entire family was silent. The Quell announcement was long-since over, but we all sit here silently. Anastacia sat, playing with her hair, trying to block out everything, and my mother and Crail were huddled together on the couch.
I knew the Quarter Quells had been a hard time on our family. My mother's older sister, Victoria, lost her life in the Fiftieth Hunger Games after she volunteered to save my mother, and has never been the same since, so I'm told. And I also think that Crail's best friend was another person that had gone into the Fiftieth Hunger Games. It was also rumored that one of our great uncles from my mother's side died in the 25th Hunger Games. These Quarter Quells were really death sentences for the Jamis family line. But I wasn't a Shea; I was a Rose. Did that still count?
"Why are we so worried? The chances of either Anastacia or myself getting drawn are one in a million. It could never happen." I say, though I'm not quite positive I believe my own words. With the Hunger Games, anything is possible. My mother and Crail smile at me, and he rubs her back soothingly. I know her biggest concern is losing me or my sister, but her worrying was going to be the death of her if she didn't calm down.
Anastacia is just staring at me, but not saying a word. I know she doesn't necessarily believe my words either, but has chosen not to argue. She's too kind for that. I smile at her, trying my best to comfort as the older sister, though she gets heavily annoyed when I insist on that, considering she's only three and a half minutes younger. She looks up at me with her big brown eyes and weakly returns my smile before crawling back into her shell. I mentally sigh. This place was full of unnecessary grief; neither Anastacia nor I were reaped for the Hunger Games, and it's not like we would be. I need to get away from here.
"I'm going to dads." I say before standing up and walking to the door. "Take your coat! It's freezing out there! And call me when you get there so I know your safe!" my mother shouts and I give an 'mmhmm' in response. When I reach the door, I grab my coat and brace myself for the cold. It does not disappoint.
I duck my head inside my coat, and walk against the snow and wind. It truly was freezing out here. I begin to question my leaving, when suddenly I find myself running into what feels like a stone wall. I fall to the ground, and my face is briefly exposed to the cold snow on the ground. I quickly grab my hood and throw it over my face before looking to see what I hit. Before I have time to make a clear image, a hand sticks out to me from seemingly no where. My first instinct is to scream, but I quickly push it down and allow my heart to return to a normal pace before I respond.
I must of hit another person. I reason with myself, before taking the hand and having it pull me up. When I'm standing, I finally get a full view of the person that I ran into; D.J Grey. I shouldn't be surprised; he was most likely on his way over to see Tanner Lakely, my neighbor. I smile and thank him before pulling away. He nods and smiles at me before walking towards Tanner's house. I watch him until he makes it to her porch, then continue on my way.
D.J was gorgeous, what with his messy, bronze-red hair and sea green eyes. And his built and broad shoulders was just a bonus. But he was completely not my type. Besides, even if her were, everyone knows eventually he'll begin dating Tanner. I call them: Tan.J. Plus, he already has half the girls in the district falling over him, and I find it incredibly despicable. Do they not have any self respect?
I continue walking, and quickly make my way down the streets and find my dad's house. Both my parents live relatively close to the center of the district, but my father is closer because of his need to be by the hospital.
He is one of the best doctors the district has, and has to be close by his work incase he is ever needed. I find it convenient because he lives right across the street from my favorite burger shops. District Six isn't too bad off concerning wealth, and we can afford to have little luxury shops and have them survive here. There aren't very many, but we do have a few spread out in the District. The burger shop is closest, and also my favorite. I'm a meat girl.
After a few more minutes walking, I arrive at my father's house. I hurry up the steps, and quickly pull out my key. Anastacia and I both have one for whenever we choose to come over. When I step inside, I almost immediately become toasty inside the warm house, and slip out of my coat. I hang it on the coat rack before walking to the living room.
"Dad?" I call out, searching the halls. I find him in the living room, staring at the television. When he sees me, he calls my name and pulls me into a hug. "Myliana." he murmurs into my hair, and I hug back, but quickly let go. "Dad, I came here to get away from the paranoia and grief at mom's house. Neither myself nor Anastacia have been reaped, and we won't be. So why is everyone so upset and worried? We'll be fine." He pulls back, sighs, and smiles at me.
I see where I get my eyes from, as I stare into his still worried filled lapis lazuli blue eyes. When it came to our looks, Anastacia took after our mother with her long, mahogany brown hair and big brown eyes, while I took after our father with my soft blonde hair and lapis blue eyes. But other than those differences, me and my twin were exactly the same.
Our father and mother got divorced when we were seven. My father put even more time into the hospital, and my mother remarried Crail, the head peacekeeper. We spend equal times at each house, coming and going whenever we please.
"Can I use the phone? Mom wants me to call her." he nods, and I make my way to the kitchen. As a result of my father's work in the hospital, and Crail's work in generally the entire district, both homes had a landline so they could be reached in case of need.
I quickly pick it up and dial the number that was most likely burned into my memory. "Hello?" my mother answers, a little frantic. I roll my eyes and respond "Hey ma. I'm here at dads. I'm fine, so don't worry. I think I might stay the night, so don't worry about waiting up for me." "Ok sweetie. Just make sure to lock all the doors! And get to bed at a decent time!" I again roll my eyes, but agree to her wishes before hanging up with an 'I love you'.
I sigh before walking into the living room. The mood has lightened some, but still has a long way to go before it can be considered comfortable. I sit down, grab the remote from my father, and flip through the channels for something non-drama related.
This is going to be a long night.
Hey guys! This is the first chapter of my Hunger Games story! Whatcha think? Just because I did D.J and Myliana first DOES NOT mean they are going to win. They still could, but there are no guarantees for my Hunger Games ;) Comment please! I want to know what people think of the characters, and if I got them right or not.