AN/ HI THERE MAJICAL PEOPLE OF FANFICTION WHO LIKE THE HUNGER GAMES!
Well I came up with this idea after submitting this character, Belle, to a syot, when I thought 'hey this characters friend sounds interesting… maybe I should write a story.' So here I am, writing this… now I am not the best writer and I have and awful habit for changing tense halfway through a story, so if you could pick me up on anything like that.
Also I am from Australia… why is that important? PLEAS DO NOT COMMENT SAYING 'ughhhh omgeee, did you even pass English you can't even spell mom!
I spell some words differently to all you Americans… like 'mom' is spelt mum and I spell words like realise, organise, etc. with an s not a z.
Hope you enjoy!
Hi, my name is Glade Drealam, and this is the story of how everything changed.
I am from district eight, I am seventeen years old and I live with my mother and my eight little sisters, I know eight is a lot and being the only male doesn't help. All my sisters are from different fathers, we don't know who most of them are. We don't have a lot of money and my mum does whatever she can to get us by… well practically she is a prostitute, and given that birth control is way to expensive for us, she ended up with nine kids… with a tenth on its way. I know who my father is though; he actually tries to be involved. He is a good guy, he is the town blacksmith at the marketplace, he always tries to give my mother money to help out, but she never takes it. My mother is beautiful. She has soft green eyes that fill hearts with joy, which is sparse around here.
We live on the outskirts of town, the slum of district eight, there is barely any happiness, everything is dull and grey. That is why people stare at me… I'm happy. Yeah we live in a dump, and yeah my mother is a prostitute, but we manage. We have a cow and a potato garden so we are rarely ever hungry, and when mum isn't pregnant her job can pay quite well. So I see no reason to be sad.
Well this, and the fact that I have this friend… well 'friend' isn't a good enough term for her. Her name is Belle. She is my best friend, better than my best, she is indescribable. Her and her brother are the only other two people in this part of town who are happy… and when I say happy I mean creepy happy. We spend every minute of every day together, she cheers me up when I am sad, I cheer her up when she is sad (which is rare.) When we aren't at school we sell potatoes and milk from my garden/cow and herbs from her garden at a small stall at the market, right next to my fathers blacksmith.
I have known her since she was nine, she is sixteen now. She came from a well off and happy family, that changed when her parents died in a fire at the factory they managed. Then her and her brother, who was only fifteen at the time had to move here… to this filthy hole… and live as though they had parents taking care of them. Belle's brother, Parker, wouldn't ever let her in the awful children's home. When he turned eighteen, they didn't have to worry about anything, they where care free and happy.
I love Belle. Not in a romantic, sexual type of way. I just love her as a friend… My happiness is completely dependent on hers. I can't se her get hurt, it kills me when she is sad.
I am completely joyful, I love my life, I love my family, and I am so… so happy.
That all changed this morning, when Belle was reaped for the 43rd Hunger games.
AN/ What did you think?
Read and review, constructive criticism appreciated.