Jon
I got ready for the Reaping. I was eighteen, and already engaged to a girl I really liked: Vicktoria. I knew that if we both survived this Reaping, I was going to propose to her. Meeting up with Vicktoria, we walked together to the City Square. Vicktoria was fairly plain, with hazel hair and eyes, and freckels dotting her cheeks. If we survived, I could have an entire lifetime with her.
In the Reaping Square, I held Vicktoria's hand as the ceremony started. The announcer walked to the ball with all the names, and picked one. It was Vicktoria Littleton. I might faint. Then, I knew that I, Jon Hill, had to volunteer. She wasn't going in there alone.
Vicktoria
My heart almost stopped beating as I made an effort to unclasp my fingers. He held me tight, but at last, let me go, and accepted my fate. I looked at his face. His messy brown hair, and those deep blue eyes. Sensing an idea forming in his head, I made a silent prayer that he wouldn't be stupid enough to volunteer.
But he did. I nearly cried as I hugged him on the stage. Only one of us could come back, if we even managed to survive. In the privacy of the room, he told me that he planned to let me come home, since I had a life ahead of me, when he was just poor.
He told me he loved me, and we cried together until we boarded the train, and I wondered how we were going to survive the weeks to come.
YOU ARE READING
The 139th Hunger Games
Teen FictionThis is the story of the 139th Hunger Games, if Katniss and the rebellion didn't exist. This year's tributes are all thrown into an arena, but only one comes out. Their stories will change Panem for the better, and spark a revolution. Who will win?
