Just A Game (SYOT CLOSED)

Chapter 1

As promised, a new chapter, although it is now monday and i had promises it by sunday. And for that i apologize for that. But on the bright side, i actually forced myself to write it.

Also people, I just wanted to be clear with how this story will work. So I'm starting out with two main characters who will be the main focus at first. But as the story progresses more main people will be added to the plot. So don't be disappointed if your character isn't in right away. And I am so so sorry to the people who die in the bloodbath, if they are your only tribute, I will try to give them a close up at some point. And I'm also sorry if you don't feel I've done your character justice, I will try my best but I'm only human.

Elodie Amaya D11

The water splashed over Elodie's head, drenching her to her skin. She glared unconvincingly through her bangs. But she couldn't keep a smile from etching across her features as she let out a laugh.

Her friends, Ally and Callandra stared at her. Elodie froze for a second, confused at her friends' perplexed expressions.

"What?" she asked "What's wrong?"

Ally stepped forward lifting her hand to Elodie's cheek.

"Why do you have this bruise El?" she asked softly. Elodie pulled away from her.

"I tripped, yesterday on the stairs" she lied. "It's not a big deal, I just covered it up because it was ugly"

"Come on Elodie" Callandra whispered "What happened?"

"Seriously guys, it was nothing. Don't make a big deal of it ok?" she shrugged it off "You know me and my clumsiness" her friends didn't look convinced.

Everyone let out a sigh.

"El you know you can tell us anything right?"

"I know, I'm fine really, If I had something to say, I would"

"Alright, just don't hesitate"

"I know, now come on let's have fun! One of us may be going to our deaths tomorrow, so we might as well enjoy our last hours" she ran off into the fields, Ally and Callandra following closely behind.

"You shouldn't joke about that, tomorrow someone is never coming back, two people from our district" Callandra let a heavy breath. "It isn't something to take lightly"

"Of all people I know that" Elodie said softly, her face turning solemn. "If we let ourselves focus too much, we'll become lost in thoughts of death. And that's like letting them win. And that's one thing I'm not willing to give" They'd taken her father, her mother, but they couldn't take her spirit.

She'd never forget, how much the Capitol deserved to pay.

It still plagued her mind, her mother's death. Elodie could see the bullet, shot from a peacekeepers gun, as it ripped through her mother's chest. She could feel that desperate feeling of loss, she could smell the rusty odor of blood as it pooled beneath her mother. And lastly she could her her sister's scream, an agonizing wail whose waves cut through the air. She would never forget what the Capitol had taken from them. Not only was the bullet shot from a Capitol gun but they were the reason behind it all. The reason that Elodie and Coralie's mother had taken them away, desperately seeking a sanctuary beyond the fence. To no avail, peacekeepers had caught up with them within a mile.

They had dragged them away from their mother's cold and lifeless body, Coralie's small three year old frame shaking frantically. They had only one option, so their aunt had raised them. Watching to make sure they didn't cross the line. Except sometimes they did.

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Garland Colenight D12

Garland buttoned up his black shirt, his reaping outfit. The only nice thing he had. He supposed he could have a muscular build, there certainly wasn't an ounce of fat on his body. He was pretty average for district twelve, dark coal black hair that fell lightly in waves, light olive toned skin, he fit in with the district. Only his eyes would hint that maybe he wasn't from the seam, which he was, but his eyes were a dark blue grey colour. Like his mother.

He softly stepped down the stairs, reaching into the cupboard for a loaf of bread. He sliced a piece and spread some butter on it, a luxury. He tiptoed back upstairs and pulled his father's door open, leaving the piece of bread beside the bed. It was still early, a few hours until the reaping, he had time to go out.

Garland stepped into the forest, finding solace within the beautiful green picture. He didn't mind the buzzing of the fence beside him, it lulled his thoughts. Pulling a pencil and a small notebook from his pocket, he began to write. Quietly humming a tune to himself.

And he stayed like that, scribbling and scratching out lyrics as he hummed, a melody that would be heard by no one, but himself