A/N: Sorry I haven't updated or uploaded anything in forever. As much as I've wanted to write for you and your OC's, I've been really busy.
So not much in this chapter. We're kind of getting to the point in these stories where it starts to get hard for me and even more boring for you. Sorry about that!
Anyways, hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own the trilogy still. Same old, same.
~District Nine Reapings~
Daisy Rawnsen's P.O.V.
I wake up at the crack of dawn like I do on hunting days.
The knife on my bedside table spins in circles.
Someone's touched it. Someone's been here.
I check my wrists. Scars cover them but no newly found blood makes its way out.
My legs are fine except for a few bruises and old cuts running across my calf.
Goosebumps all over my body from the cold seeping in through my open window barely peeking above the ground.
A new small scar above my left eyebrow, still in ripples from two days ago sits lifelessly.
Scars are the only thing left inside me. Outside me. Around me. Everything scars me. Everything is out to get me.
I throw my purple dress onto my bed and brush through the tangles in my fiery red hair.
When I open the doors to the cellar a bright light almost blinds me.
The knife once on my table is clenched tightly in my hand.
Slowly I make my way towards the house.
Up the steps I go.
The screen door, half ripped off from last week, makes a weird slithering noise when I open it.
Wood under my feet reminds me of yesterday's working hour in the fields with all the trees hiding the animals we tracked down.
The smell of vomit sickens me when I enter the kitchen which is unfortunately near the small bathroom we have.
My Father must have been having lots of fun last night. I think while inspecting the empty beer bottles lined up against the counter.
A small loaf of bread is hidden in the army of bottles. Flies are the only thing that's touched it as far as I know.
Even though this isn't the purpose of me bringing the knife, I use it anyways to cut a medium sized slice.
The bread feels hard and stale when it slowly makes it down my dry throat.
The taste is so different and kicks me into grabbing the rest of the loaf.
Bad idea. When my free hand reaches for the bread, it makes a couple bottles fall and break against the floor's surface.
My first thought is to run, but I only hear a loud moan from my father in the room not so far away from me.
I haven't been in this house for so long. It feels so different to me.
Through the window on my left I can easily see my mother getting water from the faucet outside.
Carefully, without making a sound I slip through the screen door without trying to make a distraction and run towards my room in the cellar.
I open the cellar doors covering me in absolute freezing temperatures.
The purple dress still lies on my bed. I'm not even sure if it fits me anymore.
May as well try.
~District Nine Reapings~
Lucas Des' Ray's P.O.V.
"I know, I know. I'm a pro at the three target zones already." I say stuffing a stale biscuit into my mouth.
"Then what are they?" Grandpa says leaning against the countertops wiping the water off his hands with the dishtowel.
After a moment of chewing I begin to clear my throat. "The first is the head area. It screws up the attackers senses. You gotta aim for the temples, chin, nose, and the back of the neck. The second affects his or hers breathing. You have to hit the rib cage, throat, solar plexus, and groin."
"And the third?" He says piling some sort of meat onto Cecily's plate.
"I'm getting there." I laugh setting my fork onto the table. "Third zone is the legs and feet. They affect the mobility for the attacker. Best places to go for are the thighs, knees, instep, and toes. Shin's too." I add.
"Lucas, I thought you said that we shouldn't kick them though because it's too dangerous." Cecily makes her presence and wipes her eyes tiredly.
She sits down on the chair next to me and slides the plate closer to herself.
"Only down low, Cecily." I say ruffling her bed-head hairdo.
She smiles at me and chews on the mystery meat on her plate. I can't help but slip my last biscuit onto her plate.
Cecily takes a big breath. "Luke?" I look down at her sorrow, yet convincing face. "Will you please braid my hair today?"
I curse the day that my mother started braiding her hair in the first place.
Mom. The words are fresh in my mind. The smell of her perfume still lingers around the house taunting me.
"Maybe some simple pigtails." I suggest barely holding up a smile.
Even if she's gone now, I have these two. They're my lives now. My only reason to be in this wicked, twisted world.
~District Nine Reapings~
Daisy Rawnsen's P.O.V.
"You can stay with me until they get it all worked out." Lily suggests hiding behind her hair and looking at the dirt.
She's said this twice or more times before.
And as much as I am her friend, it's the one thing I'm starting to get annoyed of.
I only shake my head and fix my ponytail slipping out of its rubber band.
"We better get going." She says changing the subject and grabbing my arm.
Because I hate being touched, I yank my arm out of her reach and start walking towards the town square.
Lily's breath is felt on the tip of my shoulder.
She's the only person I know who can disappoint people with her height. At least as saying in our home district. I guess since I'm only three inches away from her, you may as well call me tall too.
A slight smile forms onto my lips. It's the first time I've gotten this close to happiness in a long time.
The emotion suppresses when I walk to all the roped areas.
Hateful and Nauseous. It's all that I feel at the moment.
"On the bright side, under all that blood and terror there's a houseful of food, valuables, anything but your parents." Lily says elbowing me in the shoulder before walking off into her section.
A year and a half and I'll be out of hell. On my own and out of the chance of being reaped.
I watch as Cassandra clacks her way onto the stage with her tall heels and mini purse. She does an intro for the mayor and then loudly but elegantly walks over to the first chair.
Annebet Duvall, our newly elected mayor steps up to the podium rubbing her plump pink lips together and staring at us all with an emotion I can't recall in her eyes.
While I tune out the speeches, I look over my shoulder to see all the adults and younger children with their sympathetic faces.
When I turn back, nothing has really changed from just a few seconds ago. The mayor is still working on the greeting in her speech.
As she finishes the rest of the body and complimentary close, I roll a small pebble under my foot.
"Daisy Rawnsen!" Cassandra yells out into the crowd, unexpectedly very close to the microphone.
My vision meets the stage, the podium, the escort, the cameras, anything to perfect for this district.
Disturbing thoughts slip through my head.
I will either fall in the grave the Capitol has dug up for me, or I will live some idealistic future that will never reach my grip.
~District Nine Reapings~
Lucas Des' Ray's P.O.V.
I'm going with the latter choice.
There is no way this girl could last through the bloodbath rather than something more.
She's skinny. More than Cecily.
And just from the look she gives off in her eyes, you can tell from a first glance she's no threat in these games.
I've heard of the name before. She must have cleaned up nice to be the girl I've heard just from whispers across the halls in school.
I can't even tell if I'm staring at the slips in the next glass bowl or the carvings of long quadrilateral shapes on the podium.
The first sunny day in weeks and I'm already getting tired of it. The silver shine off the bowl blinds me horribly and no matter which way I look up at the stage, the light finds me again.
"Your male tribune is- Lucas Des' Ray." Our escort yells her blonde curls bobbing into her slightly dark green eyes.
Calmly I saunter through the newly readymade path that the other district kids have made.
The nearer I get to the stage, the younger the kids get.
But they each feel the joy of not being picked.
They're tessarae will have not made a difference now, and they can surely just go home and rest on their sofas to watch me fight to the death.
I take my seat next to Daisy, the redhead with the ponytail; Images of lost memories, thoughts, unfinished thinking, everything seeps into my head.
And I can only guess it will get worse.
A/N: Yay! Three more to go!
Also- to Luke's creator, I'm sorry if Luke's part was a little off. I'm not a mysterious type of writer unless it comes to suspense. It's easier to write mystery's in third person, so you'll see more in the games, interviews etc.
Same goes for everyone else's mysterious characters.
I'm wishing to get D10 up before the 7th because that's when classes start. But you never know what comes up.
Happy Hunger Games and May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor!
-Fifi