Hunger Games (DNF)

Part 1, Chapter 1: the reaping

Yes, starting Hunger Games book after writing it for ages. After this it is a Karlnapity book as a bit of a breath of fresh air.

Anyway enjoy, and you do not need to have read the 3 original Hunger Games books and the 4 original movies, but I do recommend it.

Enjoy.
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George POV

My entire reflection was shaking, it took me several attempts to do anything even put on a pair of recently cleaned pants. All I could focus on was the fact that today was the day. I slowly buttoned up my dress shirt, trying not to focus on how much I shook, but that was one of the only things I could think about.

I glanced into the mirror, past my own reflection and into the eyes of my brother. Wilbur was wearing a sad smile as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, I turned to face him and immediately was pulled into a tight hug.
“George…” He didn’t know what to say, neither did I, both of us just soaked in the silence as tears slowly made their way down our cheeks.

Today was one of the worst days for the people in the districts, myself included. It was the mens reaping day for the hunger games, the 80th annual hunger games.
Five years had passed since what was referred to as the mockingjay problem involving Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark from district 12, back when there was a district 12.

After they attempted to take down The Capitol and failed President Snow was killed and replaced by someone who was in fact, worse. President Schlatt. He was more cunning and cruel than the previous president of Panem, and the moment he was put in power he made it worse for everyone in the districts.
Schlatt was the type of person who always looked to improve everything, and his first hurdle was the relationship between Katniss and Peeta.
The President wanted to stop tributes from forming a bond or a relationship in the arena so he started 2 hunger games each year 6 months apart. Every 6 months 2 tributes either female or male (depending on the time of year) would go and compete.

Wilbur and I pulled away from each other and I looked up into his eyes which were glistening with tears, “Wilbur, calm down… I-I’ll be fine, I have been so far, right?”
My brother looked down and nodded slightly, “I’m just worried. I…” he pulled his eyes away from mine and glanced around at the small room that we shared, “...I don’t want to lose you George, not like we lost Mum and Dad.”

I turned back to the mirror and began trying to finish buttoning up my dress shirt, but fumbling constantly with my buttons. Mum and Dad were always a sensitive subject between us.
Behind me, Wilbur smirked as he moved over and helped me do up my shirt, under his breath I heard him mumble a quiet sentence, “just 2 more years.”
“Just 2 more years” I repeated.
Our eyes met again and stayed focused on the other. We stayed like that for who knows how long, until a knock on the door grabbed our attention.

“Come in!” Wilbur called to the person who was there, and after a moment we heard a somewhat quiet voice reply as she opened the door.
“Are you two ready?” She asked.
Both me and my brother looked over to the door where Niki stood, her wavy blond hair falling to below her shoulders, smiling sympathetically at me, “you look good George” the blond said as she took in my appearance.
I nodded a thanks as Wilbur started walking towards the door with me following closely behind.

We walked quietly towards where the crowds were gathering at the centre square of District 3, all the boys in the district dressed similarly to me, clothes cleaned for possibly the first time in months and it’s all just to lead 2 boys off to their deaths. Large factories and buildings towered on either side of the square, reminding us members of District 3 that this was a prison and that there was no escape.

Peacekeepers were standing at the entrance of the square directing people to different places, Wilbur and I exchanged small smiles before parting ways and I watched as he and Niki walked over to the peacekeeper. I watched them until they were lost in the crowd before turning to where other kids my age were lining up to be ID’d, several of whom I recognised from school or work.

They were all nervous, barely talking as we shuffled up to peacekeepers who were checking our ID’s. Soon enough I got to the front of a line and tentatively held out my right hand and winced as a sharp needle pierced my skin and took some blood. The woman sitting in front of me then held out the finger that now had a small drop of red liquid forming on the tip before she pressed it down on a sheet of paper. She then looked up at me and told me to move along, which I did.

I was directed into a small area filled with boys my age or younger, all standing in solemn silence or hugging each other. Even though a lot of us hated showing any emotions because it wasn’t ‘cool’ they didn’t care, none of us were considered cool to The Capitol, in their eyes we were all weak, stupid and poor slaves to tend to whatever need they may have.

But I just stayed looking up at the stage where 2 people were standing and waiting quietly, the first was the leader of district 3, who just so happened to be Niki’s father, was waiting in front of a chair. The other man was Beetee, District 3’s only living victor from the Hunger Games who was waiting in his wheelchair after he was paralized during the 75th games. Beetee also just so happened to be my mentor, teaching me to code and program different objects since I was a kid.

Both of the pair’s eyes scanned the crowd slowly just before the clock tower struck 10, Signalling to the crowd that the reaping was about to begin. Everyone grew quiet, not that there was much noise to begin with, as they turned to the stage.
A tall man with blond hair and gunmetal coloured eyes walked up onto the stage and looked out at the crowd gathered. This man, Philza, was District 3’s escort and advisor, and apparently he wasn’t too bad. Unlike most Capitol people he was sympathetic and didn’t treat this annual event as a celebration or sports event. Unlike a lot of other people he dressed simply during the event, wearing a green shirt with a dark grey overcoat and pants.

He looked around at the group before taking a deep breath and beginning to read out a speech, the same speech he read out every year.

“Welcome Everyone, to the 80th annual Hunger Games!
Today all your fellow Districts as well as yourselves will be sending 2 boys off to represent your District in the Hunger Games. They will have the honour of representing you, your friends and your family.
Now, I will be choosing who will represent all of you.”

Everyone watched silently as the blond then made his way over to a stand with a glass bowl resting on top, in which sat the names of all the boys in my District. Philza’s hand dipped into the bowl and his hand caught around a slip of paper which he pulled out.
Breaths hitched around the square as he opened it and looked over the name before turning to the crowd.
“Our first tribute is Darryl Noveschosch.”

All around me whispers started sprouting and I turned to see a boy about my age walking up to the stage slowly, his eyes focused on the ground.
Darryl went to my school, but we never really talked much. Apparently he helped during the rebellion against The Capitol 5 years ago and killed a bunch of people when he learned knife throwing skills.

Philza gave him a sympathetic smile before laying down the slip with Darryl’s name written on it beside the bowl and reached into the bowl for a second time.
That’s when time seemed to slow, he pulled out another slip and read out a name, one I didn’t hear. But everyone looked over to me and I gulped when I realised what that meant.
Slowly, I walked up to the stage, hanging my head and trying not to let everyone see my tears and attempting to keep my breathing calm and slow. Which obviously didn’t work.

I reached the stage and felt the thousands of eyes which made up the population of District 3 all on me, but only looking for one as Philza read off another speech card. My eyes reached my brother, meeting his in a sad stare, and I bit my lip to stop myself from letting out a choked desperate sob.

Philza’s final words were directed at Darryl and I, as he looked over to both of us.

"𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫."
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1158 words.