Here is the second chapter. Hopefully this hints towards things that may be in store as we progress...
The dark haired girl moved silently among the packed crowds of District 7 civilians, the air hot and tepid against her skin. It was almost unbearable, the cloistering warmth and closeness of sweating bodies, but she did not hesitate, she did not flinch as she pushed through the closely packed town square. Her eyes searched calmly for the broadcasting screen looming above the chattering crowd. It was almost time. Peacekeepers stood rigidly to attention, lined up like dangerous ornaments on the stage, their stainless white armour concealing any sign of humanity. The girl's eyes lingered on the heavy guns by their side, alien weapons to the people of District 7, but not to her. She pushed back her unevenly chopped hair from her face, as the harsh sun beat down on her forehead, sweat beading on her tanned skin.
Silence hushed across the crowd as the ominous sound of a tannoy fuzzed and crackled like paper. The atmosphere in the square was tense, tangible. An image flickered onto the gigantic screen ahead- a man in his thirties sat righteously at a Capitol balcony, his brown hair quiffed to perfection, and his spotless grey suit ironed immaculately. The girl considered his face, lips stiffly pressed together, sensitive eyebrows framing dark and deep-set eyes. His gaze seemed to look within her, baring her secrets and turning her inside out. She had never met him, but she knew exactly who he was.
Music surged as the man on the screen stood to his feet. The sounds of trumpets and multiple other resounding orchestral delights blared intrusively from the speakers on the stage. The sound died, and there was silence, as the residents of District 7, and undoubtedly every other district strained to hear the man speak. He paused, unhurried, and adjusted his wrist cuffs patiently. Then he began.
"My dearest, dearest people." His voice dripped with sincerity, as he glanced upwards to the cameras, eyebrows raised in welcome.
"I address you today, as a Patron of our beloved Nation, as the Protector of Panem" he half smiles, his mouth twisting into an almost smirk. The girl waited, her face a mask of apathy.
"Recent... events... have rocked our country- as many of you will be aware, rebellion has run rife among our homes, our towns and districts."
A murmur washed through the crowd, as he paused, considering his words.
"These so called 'Revolutionaries' have sacked our resources, destroyed our lively hoods, and torn apart our strongholds." He emphasises his words, his eyes watering as he speaks.
"No one has felt your plight more than I- I who suffer alongside you, weep for the sick and starving, mourn our lost brothers and sisters. I am appalled by the chaos that those, those criminals have wreaked in our Nation!"
The murmurs grow louder. He dabs a handkerchief to his face, subtly enough to not be pantomime, but discreetly obvious to anyone watching. Boy, he was good, the girl thought to herself.
"I address you now to tell you of our victory- these rebels have been squashed, and the war, our war has been won!" He smiles, and a mechanical cheer booms from the Capitol crowd and metal speakers, overshadowing the absence of celebration from the square. People around her look towards the screen impassively, too hardened by grief to feel, too exhausted by hope to believe.
The man's face drops. It sets suddenly into a tight mouthed, anxious expression of concern, his dark eyes glinting curiously under a brow furrowed with worry.
"However, it is my duty to inform you that these people have left a last mark of injustice on us. It is these people who are to thank for what I'm about to tell you. As they sit in their jail cells, as they rot in their graves, they impact our lives even now."
The girl tilted her head to one side, her head buzzing with curiosity now. What was he saying?
The glint in his black eyes shone brightly, almost pleasurably at his next words.
"It is because of these criminals and traitors that we regrettably reinstate tradition. We must regain the control and safety of our Districts, and it is with a deep sadness that I announce the return of the Annual Hunger Games."
A guttural scream bursts out from the crowd. Mothers shriek, children cry, survivors stand in shock. The girl quakes in her boots, a familiar fury rising up inside her, an old friend. President Augustus' honeyed words fade into oblivion as she stands immovably on the cobbles. Looking down to her left, dizzy with disbelief, a small and wide eyed child looks back up at her, barely more than 9 years old, fear and confusion in his eyes mirror the girl's own. As he takes in her appearance, his eyes widen further, and she watches in slow motion as he screams, terrified. The girl instinctively whips a hand to her face, and touches the rough surface there- the hideous scar that is slashed across her left cheek, stretching it's crooked white line to her forehead. She forgets the small boy, whisked away by his mother, as she drops the hand from her conveniently disfigured visage and turns back towards the man on the screen. Her gray eyes harden, and so does her resolve. She is no one anymore, and that is exactly what she needs.
So I will post the first tribute list update soon, but I wanted to leave it open initially for a little while longer. A huge thanks to the people who are supporting this story, whether that is by submitting a tribute, or following/favouriting and reviewing, it means so much, really. You can submit a tribute via PM, the form is on my profile, but don't forget to leave a review telling me what you think about the chapters so far and things you would like to see as the story develops! Thanks so much!
