The Hermit Games

Chapter 1: The Reaping

The wind was like a knife, cutting across the rooftops and down the streets of District 9.

A 14-year-old boy sat on his doorstep shivering, but not due to the cold.

"Grian!" called a voice from inside. "You need to get ready, the reaping is in 20 minutes."

Grian stood up, wiping the dust from his trousers as he did so, and went inside the house.

"I picked out a suit for you. It used to be your brother's," his mother said with a sad smile. Grian's brother had participated in the Hunger Games 8 years ago, when Grian was only 6. He got killed by a girl from District 2, and his family had barely spoken about it since.

His mother turned to the wardrobe and opened the door, revealing a dark red velvet suit with black tie. "What do you think? Do you want to try it on?" asked his mother.

"I'd love to!" he said excitedly.

"Alright then, take it up to your room," she told him, "And make sure to shout down if you need any help with the tie!"

Bold of her to underestimate my tie skills, thought Grian with a smile as he finished tying his tie (rather well, if he were to say so himself).

He quickly polished his glasses on the collar of his shirt and turned to look in the mirror. He had to admit, it looked pretty good.

One of his cats, Maui, rubbed against his leg, purring. "I know, Maui. I'll be back soon, don't worry," he said with a smile.

"Grian! Are you done yet? We need to leave!"

"I'm coming!"

He ran down the stairs, almost tripping over his own feet, and stopped abruptly at the bottom, his dirty blond hair sticking up all over the place and a goofy smile spread across his face. He had almost forgot about the reaping thanks to his amazing new outfit.

His mother sighed and walked over to fix his hair.

His other cat, Pearl, was sitting on the sofa. Grian gave her quick scratch behind her ears before leaving the house.

The wind was still lingering, despite it being the summer, which added to the tense atmosphere as they arrived at the Reaping.

"Good luck," his mother said, squeezing his hand. He smiled at her. He was worried enough as is, he didn't want her to feel the same.

They said their goodbyes and Grian walked over to the table to get his finger pricked in order to identify him.

Once the process was done, Grian found a space in the crowd that offered an adequate view, and waited.

He sat through the mayors speech about Panem, but soon drifted into a daydream about the last two reapings he had been to. He felt slightly less nervous than he had at those two, but he knew all too well that it was a mistake. After all, he had double the chance of getting picked than he did at age 12.

"Welcome to the 83rd Hunger Games!" (this is set in a universe where all the rebellion stuff didn't happen). "And may the odds," called out Cub Fanagher, district 9's escort, "be ever in your favour. Unfortunately, our former winner couldn't make it to the ceremony, but don't fret, they will be waiting for our tributes on the train." He wasted no time in selecting the tributes.

"Ladies first!" he exclaimed, and picked out a small slip of paper reading, "Freya Symmonds!"

A girl walked up to the stage, her long blonde hair flying out behind her in the wind, revealing her terrified expression reflected in her deep blue eyes.

Grian felt sympathy for her. He knew her from his class in school, but they had never spoken to one another.

"And now for the boys!" called the escort, dipping his hand into the glass ball. He fumbled around in the ball for a minute, adding to the tension, but eventually picked out a slip. Cub unfolded it and read out the name on the paper.

"Grian Xelqua!"