AN: Hi everyone! So welcome to this second chapter, I suppose you have read the first one if you are here... well, if you haven't then do it. This is my first attempt at trying to write something seriously, so don't be too cruel D: (and please note that English is not my mother tongue, so blame any grammatical mistake/poor vocabulary on it).
I hope you liked that first little thing. These chapters are going to be really short because I want to introduce characters here and then develop them later on longer and hopefully better ones. Also, I want you to know that I plan on finishing this story (I know it's annoying when stories don't end, duh) and that I've imagined it all in my head, so I just have to sit down and write for some time. I'm at exams period now, so be patient please, updates will come eventually :))
That being said, I want you guys to review if you read this, either if you liked it or not, because I'm starting all of this now and I really want to improve. Thanks for your attention :D
Chapter 2: Choices to be Made
I almost fall off when Sean slams the door shut, but I'm able to regain my balance. I know my face is red because my brother Thory is grinning at me with a mischievous look in his eyes. He's too much like Sean. I walk past him without looking back, my eyes focused on the stone tiles that lead out of my garden. He soon keeps up the pace and we start walking quickly towards the square.
Sean is my father, or he's supposed to be my father at least. He's no more than a stranger to me, always filled with anger, waiting for something to set the bomb off. He has been hitting me for as long as I can remember, but it certainly got worse when I turned 12 and eligible for the Hunger Games. The day of my birthday I remember him yelling at me, telling me that I had to train for the Games if I wanted to do something honourable with my life, that he would train me himself if I didn't. Since then I have been going to this place we call the Bunker, fighting against the other district children, competing against them, learning about weapons, about death. Of course, we always have previous victors to help us, like Gloss or Cashmere – as if that helped at all.
I know I should be grateful to live in the wealthiest district, not even in 2 training is that permissive. Being my father who he is, I've never known what hunger is like and I've never been bullied by Peacekeepers. But I dread this place with all my soul. It only reminds me of my father shouting at me that I should be grateful he feeds me while he slaps me, it only reminds me of Thory laughing at me all along.
They do have a reason to hate me. I was born 17 years ago, but my mother died that day, giving birth. Maybe I'm not the one to blame, but who cares by now? I've carried this burden for so long I don't mind. Deep inside I know that she would love me if she were here.
As we keep on walking, we find a large number of people heading in our same direction. I hear hushed voices as we pass. They're probably whispering about us and our father's fortune as the president of the most prominent jewellery company in Panem. I personally don't care, but the less I have to do with him, the better, so I start walking a bit faster, wanting to get to the square as soon as possible.
Today is Reaping day, of course. It's a dull ceremony, taking into account that here, in district 1 - and as far as I know in district 2 as well – we always have some volunteers willing to risk their lives for the honour and glory that brings winning this thing. I suppose the enormous sum of money is also very appealing. Today, my brother will try to be the first one to get to the stage as he is supposed to, because this is his last eligible year. I, on the other hand, have to wait until next Reaping for my turn.
When we arrive to the square, it's already crowded. We separate to follow the lines of people that lead to the area where they confirm out assistance. I have to wait for about twenty minutes for my turn. I grow impatient, it's not really nice to watch innocent children around me not even knowing what they're getting themselves into. You see, there are two main social classes in district 1. First, we have the rich jewellery producers and traders who – like my father – win an impressive amount of money for almost nothing. Their children are the ones who can afford being trained for the games and consequently, frequently volunteer. But then there is this lower class of drug addicts, beggars, and prostitutes whose sons and daughters are actually innocent but either way they try to volunteer for the money. So yeah, getting chosen is not a simple affair here, you need to run really fast.
The line finally ends and I find myself in front of a Peacekeeper. He asks me my name, and gets a drop of blood from my finger to confirm I am who I say I am. I keep walking towards the 17 years old section and I finally stand in a place next to the aisle between boys and girls.
Not long after that, the mayor of district 1, Brilante Hallow, starts his speech. It's the same as every year, about the Treaty of Treason and how the Hunger Games were first held after the Dark Days, the destruction of district 13 and all of that. I try to listen to some of it, but it's so boring I zone out. How disappointed Sean would be if he saw me. I catch sight of my brother, and he looks at me, his grey eyes so similar to my father's steely ones that I shiver.
For a moment I start to think about running to the stage and get there before him. I could do it, and I know it. My father would be so mad at me it would be awesome. If I got there first I'd have to fight for my life, but Sean has been forcing me to train for more than 5 years. As soon as I got my hands on a spear, I could win.
When our escort, an outrageous capitolite, gets on the stage, I'm still considering the idea. I could scape my father, and one way or another, I would be free. I'm not afraid of death, sometimes it's preferable to living like this – I just can't bring myself to act like that, I have a strong self-preserving instinct. And if I won... I would be richer than Sean, and also quite more powerful than him – no one can touch a victor. I could humiliate Thory, like he has been doing all his life with me. Ever since we were little kids he has been pushing me around, bullying me at school, not letting anyone to get to talk to me. And I'm fed up with all of this.
This capitolite, Darius I think he's called, keeps talking about the honour, the glory that the victor can bring to district 1. Beside him, the mayor and our past victors stand, looking at us like pieces of meat waiting to be served. Two of them will be mentors this year - just like any other year, really – and they are sizing up their possible tributes. However, it's still creepy.
Darius calls for a girl and a boy, whose name I don't know so they're probably lower class, and just when he asks for volunteers, all hell breaks loose.
My feet start moving before I can give them the order to do so. I jump the rope that divides our section and find myself alone in the aisle, but not for long. Thory and a blond haired girl are behind me in two seconds, and we run as if our lives were at risk. Well, they might be.
The girl is the first one to arrive next to Darius, not a tricky thing seeing that she has no other female competitor, but my brother and I struggle in the stairs to the stage. "You treacherous bastard." He manages to say.
"Such a pity, brother." I answer as I shove him out of my way and get next to the others as quickly as possible. Darius proceeds to ask our names.
"I give you this year's tributes, honoured by representing District 1 in the 73rd annual Hunger Games! Crystal Garnet and Magnus Kelley!"