This is my first FanFic, so, review please and thank you! Rated T because it's the Hunger Games!
I was curled up next to Mother. Today was reaping day. And I qualified now, because I was twelve years old. My sister Katniss was eighteen and could not be in the Hunger Games, ever. I was all alone in the world of Panem. I heard Katniss getting up to go hunt for tonight's dinner. If I were going to be here. But the odds were way against my favor, I had only one entry this year. Katniss refused to let me sign up for tessarae, the meager supply of grain and oil in exchange for entering your name more times for the Hunger Games. I crawled out of bed to go milk Lady, my goat.
The Opposite of an Uneventful Reaping
As I stroked Lady's neck, I thought about this morning. Were people already crying for their children, certain that they were going to be chosen because they were entered so many times?
I think that the record amount of times someone had gone in was ninety-three times. And against all possible odds, that boy won.
That boy was Haymitch Abernathy, winner of the 50th Hunger Games. It was also a Quarter Quell, which was that every twenty-five years the Capitol put some deadly twist on the Games.
The first Quarter Quell the citizens had to vote for each male and female tribute. The second Quarter Quell, there were twice as many tributes as usual. That was the year Haymitch won.
Nowadays, he's just a drunk that usually does nothing to help tributes. District Twelve's tributes were mostly the first to die in the initial bloodbath. What's a bloodbath, well, you'd think that since I'm so young that I don't know anything, but trust me. After growing up watching Hunger Games, I know almost as much as the average adult.
There's a Cornucopia in the center of the arena that contains all you could ever need; food, water, tents, lots of weapons, shelter, tools, backpacks full of them all, all you can think of plus more.
Everyone wants the booty, so they all begin fighting for it. Remember, this a fight to the death, which means the last one alive wins, so they all hack it out at each other trying to get supplies. The Careers, or the tributes trained their whole lives for this very moment, all team up and scour the Cornucopia, killing anyone who comes within a mile of the place.
At least eleven tributes die in the bloodbath. Just because you escape the Cornucopia alive, doesn't mean you're that smart. Most kids aren't. They're just lucky. That or the Careers forgot about them while they held off the tributes that got scores almost as high as theirs.
It's the worst part of the Games, except for the ending fight between the last two tributes. It's the worst. Most tributes are the brink of death whenever they win. One tribute had half his head chopped off and was unconscious whenever they lifted him up.
But enough about past Hunger Games; they're too tragic to talk about.
I get dressed in a yellow blouse and a long gray skirt, and then braid my hair back into a braid. Katniss arrives at the house, ready to attend the mandatory reaping. I'm only entered once, and Katniss says not to worry. I'm about as safe as you can get, but in Panem, you're never safe.