There are several concepts, characters, and real life things that I use and/or mention in this chapter that I don't own. These include but are not limited to the Hunger Games and Finnick Odair.
A/N: Thanks for your interest in my story! I am writing the 65th Hunger Games. At the beginning of each chapter, I will post a warning with any kind of "age related content" upcoming in the chapter. I intend to keep the story rated T, but I appreciate it in other stories so I am doing the same. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review, even to say you hate my story and I suck. (Only say that if you really think that!) I will try to give as much detail as possible, so let me know what you think!
IN THIS CHAPTER: Moderate violence
The axe lodges into the back of Lecia Odair's head and a cannon booms. A hovercraft promptly removes her body. The voice of Claudius Templesmith, the Hunger Games announcer, breaks my trance. I'm eight.
"I present to you the winner of the 59th Hunger Games, Glamour Rosenfeld, of District 1!"
My mother makes a strangled sound from behind me on the couch. I turn to see a silent tear running down her cheek.
"Lecia. No, no, NO, not my Lecia. I can't lose another member of my family."
My father died in a fishing accident less than a year ago. Seventeen year old Lecia volunteered for the Games intending to bring back the money that we'd need to survive without his income.
"Oh Finnick. Lecia's gone. Gone! What will we do without her?" my mother cries.
I rise from the floor and go to sit next to my mother, wrapping my arms around her.
As upset as she is, being comforted by her eight year old son is just too much because she says unexpectedly, "I'm so sorry Finnick. I should be comforting you, but instead your comforting me, and you must be so upset, and I'm not any help at all, and—" At this point she's crying so hard that any thing else she says is unintelligible.
The death of my sister is hard for me too, but we'd never been close since she was nine years older than me. The main issue on my mind is that Lecia had entered the games to win money, and now she's dead. How were we going to survive now? If I start doing odd jobs, we may be able to scrape by for a couple of years, but it wouldn't be enough for long. There is only one possible answer. When I'm older, I'll volunteer for the Games. And I'll come home victorious.
Finnick Odair. District Four tribute, Victor, Mentor, and some other things I'd rather not talk about. This is my story.
Please review, I really appreciate the feedback!