“Vada Blighton,” Claudius Templesmith begins to explain, “admitted into the 60th Hunger Games at the age of thirteen. The boy must have been no older than three-years-old.”
Caesar laughs as if impressed. “Ah, yes. And now fifteen years later, here he is. Handsome man like him, I doubt he’ll have any problem attracting sponsors, let alone women. What do you think about him and his fellow tribute partner?” Cathal’s jaw tightens and his shoulders tense.
“Another of pair of star-crossed lovers? I think you need to calm down with the matchmaking there, Caesar,” jokes Claudius, nudging his partnering host in the arm. “But I’m sure our viewers have noticed that the siblings have different surnames.”
“Yes, right you are! A source has informed me that they were in fact stepsiblings. Miss. Blighton would have had her name changed after this reaping,” Caesar clarifies. “Sadly, being reaped meant she would have to enter as a Blighton.” From the corner of my eye I catch sight of Lorna placing her hand on Cathal’s back, trying her best to comfort him.
After Cathal, Liliana and I enter the Justice Building, the District 7 reaping begins to play. I don’t pay much attention as I notice they’ve omitted my father’s last parting words with me, nothing interesting happens anyway. Nobody else ends up volunteering in the last six reapings. However, the last reaping sparks a bit of interest. Things just keep getting worse for the girl on fire. Katniss Everdeen’s little sister’s name was called once again, but this time no one was there to take her place. Liliana gasps, holding her perfectly engineered hand to her gaping mouth, and screeches obscenities at the screen as Primrose reluctantly makes her way to the stage. I turn to look at Sean, his face hard with anger but he keeps his eyes on the television. When Primrose sets barely a toe on the stage, her sister tries to reach for her, knocking down her chair and causing Peeta Mellark and Haymitch Abernathy, both District 12 victors, to catch her before she could envelope her little sister in her arms. Primrose does nothing, unable to do anything but continue to make her way to an emotional Effie Trinket.
We then hear Caesar Flickerman exhale loudly, “This is …” He’s speechless for a moment – everyone is. All you hear are the fierce sobs of Katniss. The screen splits into three and shows the members of the Everdeen family: a solemn mother in the crowd on the left; a broken victor on the right; and a hard, mature little thirteen-year-old girl stuck in the middle. Effie then half-heartedly proceeds to announce the male tribute. His name is Yorke Hamil and is fifteen years of age. Yorke’s sibling, his brother Damon, was in the same year as my brother and Wynter, but thankfully they didn’t have contact whatsoever. The tributes walk into the Hall of Justice then the screen pans back to a visibly frustrated Caesar and a breathless Claudius.
“Well, folks,” Claudius tries to sound enthusiastic, “We present you with the tributes of the 75th Annual Hunger Games! Join us tonight as we will be seeing them make their first live appearance in the Tribute Parade in the City Circle!”
“This is it!” Caesar Flickerman bellows. “Happy Hunger Games!” The anthem plays, and the Capitol seal appears on the monitor.
Liliana flicks off the television and we feel the train begin to slow, followed by a chorus of screams and cheers. We must be here. We’re all quickly escorted into a car that would take us to the Training Centre for the Tribute Parade. It takes a while to leave the train station as Capitol fans throw themselves at the car, trying to catch a glimpse of the tributes of District 6. Which is completely pointless because the windows of the car are specially tinted so you can see out, but you can’t see in. But I do wish you couldn’t see in or out, as the outrageous colours and costumes these people are dressed in creep me out. When we arrive at the Training Centre, Cathal and I are ushered separate ways, and we go through the painful experience of remaking. There I meet my prep team that will stay by my side if I do happen to be the last man standing. My prep team consists of three young women: Ajadia, Rhoda and Yocta. And, goodness, they are the most artificial people I have ever seen in my whole entire life – not to exaggerate. Ajadia has flawless pinkish skin with red pixie hair, magenta-coloured vines inked up and down her arms. Rhoda is the tallest of the three, but she is the scariest with dark green tattoos all over her body and face, her black curls concealing half of her face. Yocta, on the other hand, looks fairly normal compared to the others with dark skin and sleek golden hair, although it’s her accent that reminds me that she is a citizen of the crazy Capitol.
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Final Reality (THG Fanfic)
FanfictionTHIS IS AN ALTERNATE 3RD QUARTER QUELL She believes that she is worthless. That her life does not have a sole purpose. But no. 18-year-old Wren Ivory is not contemplating suicide. She is plotting against the Capitol's pleasures, breaking every rule...
