Hey this is the Prologue, and bare with me this is my first Hunger Games fanfic.
This isn't a typical happy story. This isn't a 'once upon a time' or a happily ever after, the end'. There is never a happy ending to these stories.
Beware, this is a depressing story with a devastating ending. It's about love; real love. And sometimes – for the unlucky or even lucky – it doesn't last. Things get in the way, whether it be reality, insanity, humanity or in this case The Hunger Games. The dreaded three letter word to ten out of twelve of the Districts. The Districts thought that they could handle another Games, that they would have to move on like so many before them. Until President Snow asked the unthinkable.
"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors..."
No one was happy about this. However, no matter how sad or angry the Capitol were of this, they had to have bloodshed entertainment.
Anyway, this story isn't just about the Games.
This story is based around a seventeen year old girl named Summer Ladscrop. She went into the arena in the seventy-third Hunger Games. She wasn't reaped. A twelve year old young girl was. Summer watched as the girls' parents mourned for their future dead daughter, and Summer couldn't take it. Summer had been training just in case in the little shack she lived in. And so, Summer volunteered.
At the time of the seventy-third Hunger Games she was fifteen, she had no family; this added to the list of reasons of why she volunteered.
Summer's past will be revealed during this story. Her past has influenced her personality now. Her name does not match that personality. And now you will find out why...
Let me know what you think :)