The Hunger Games: Wroetostar, Merome, Pooflan & Minizerk

⫷Chapter 2⫸

Mitch's P.O.V.

"Meeeeeeetch!" Jerome yelled, flailing his arms as he tried to catch up with me. "Wait up!"

I slowed to a walk so he could catch up with me, his axe slung over his shoulder even though it was our day off. He carried that bloody thing with him everywhere, he hadn't put it down since he had been gifted it at age 12. He had even taken it to school before we turned 16, after which you were an adult and worked instead.

The reaping didn't start until about noon and we didn't have to be there until 10, so we took advantage of the morning off, almost our only one in the year, to wander the forest and be completely alone. We didn't get to be alone often except on Sunday and we always made sure to sneak off somewhere.

Jerome and I had been friends since we had started school together, tiny 5 year old who had... mostly the same memories of living in District 7. I was an oldest sibling and practically raised my siblings because my parents were working almost every day. Jerome helped, but he had no parents, no siblings to help. So he helped me.

Of course I hadn't transitioned at that time and was still female, but as we grew to pre-teens I knew something wasn't quite right. Jerome stuck by my side, as did my family, as I socially and somewhat physically transitioned to male, introducing myself as Mitch, cutting my hair, borrowing Jerome's clothes and selling my old clothes. I only had brothers, so no one would need them.

There wasn't enough technology in the districts to allow a physical transition so I sounded very much female and my makeshift binder sometimes got painful, but I was at least accepted. I had gotten some strange looks before but there was so much else to worry about, like the threat of starving perhaps, that no one cared about a young girl in the poorer part of the district deciding that she wasn't, in fact, a girl.

So I lived my life as a male, even though I knew my name was still entered in the ball filled with the girl tributes. I didn't mind. My chances of being drawn were so slim that I almost never thought about it, at least until the day of the reaping. District 7 was huge, thousands of children in the poorer section alone.

"You ready for this?" Jerome asked as I sat down on the roots of a tree, pulling his axe of his back so he could sit down too.

I sighed, leaning back into him.

"Yeah... I guess." I looked at him. "How many times is your name in there today?"

"30." He said, looking sick at the thought. 5 times for his automatic entry and another 5 times that for tesserae for himself, and even though I tried to convince him not to, tesserae for me, my brothers and my parents. "You?"

"25."

"God, the odds really aren't in our favour, are they." He mumbled, shuffling closer to me so I could lean my head on his shoulder.

"They aren't." I sighed, closing my eyes. "But... let's just get through the day and I'll meet you here after the reaping okay?"

He nodded.

"Dress nice, won't you?" I smiled.

"Of course I will."

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I didn't managed to see Jerome again before the reaping after he dropped me home, where my brother and parents were waiting. I was dressed in a nice shirt and jeans, some of the only items of clothing I owned that weren't originally Jerome's.

I checked in with my brother just outside the town square and then said goodbye to him, watching him rush off to go and stand with the other 12 year old boys. Boys and girls were separated, on opposite sides of the empty area where we gathered.

Across the square I caught Jerome's eyes and he smiled, giving me a quick thumbs up before returning to the stoic, respectful mask he kept up around the Peacekeepers. I shifted from foot to foot, feeling awkward surrounded by girls.

Just breathe. I thought, squeezing my hands together. My eyes were focused on the Capitol lady seated on stage, her wig so large that it seemed like she had an extra head- a bright blue, curly head. I hated everyone from the Capitol and I hated her in particular because she sent people from our district away each year. We had only ever had four victors, three guys and a girl, two of which were dead.

"Ladies first!" The Capitol lady chirped, waddling towards the ball with the girls names in it on her ridiculous heels. Normally she would dig around in the ball a little to find a name but this time she just plucked up the first name her fingers came across. I closed my eyes.

"Michelle Hughes." My vision went black and then white- my deadname echoing across the silent crowd of people. I could feel their eyes fixed on me and it was pretty obvious why, because I was well known. I was the trans one, the weird one. Everyone knew me. "Michelle? Come up here."

She chirped and someone shoved me forwards, several Peacekeepers pushing through the crowd to get to me. I was so numb I could barely move but the second one of their hands reached out to grab my arm I pulled away and stalked towards the stage.

I didn't fall going up the stairs somehow and walked across the stage just in time to see her dig her hand in the bowl with the boys names. I couldn't even think before she called out the name- "Gre-

"I volunteer as tribute!"

I knew who I was. There was an awkward silence while the Capitol lady looked confused and spun around to ask for guidance, and Jerome marched towards the stage.

"I- what's your name?" She asked, seeming stunned. Although to be fair she probably had a good reason too, because no one ever volunteered unless you were from District 1, 2 or 4, and maybe 3 if you were specially trained. Over there it was an honour to compete, here you might as well say 'I want to die.'

"Jerome Aceti." He said into the mic, glaring around at the crowd. I knew what he was doing- he was making sure he looked a threat so he could protect me.

"Jerome..." I whispered, taking a step forwards toward him. "No... why...?"

"Mitch I have nothing here." He whispered, taking my hand, his back to the crowd. "I'm going to protect you. You're going to make it out."

The Capitol lady looked scorned and offended when Jerome turned back to face the front but he didn't let go of my hand all the way through the mayors speech and the anthem. We were escorted off the stage together and when they tried to separate us Jerome stood firm, refusing to let us be split up.

"I think you'll find that his family is my family." He spat, and they backed off.

I turned to him, my eyes wide. He smiled, but it flickered.

"I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you win Mitch. I want to see you home to your family."