Author's Note: Xanthie is pronounced zan-thee, incase you didn't know. Sorry for slow update! DEDICATED TO CATIE xxx
Chapter Three: Reaping Day.
"You look beautiful Val..." I breathe speechlessly. She looks like an angel in her tight rose dress, her ebony hair and her caramel skin complimenting it. I wish I looked that nice. I'm in a dark coloured skater skirt and a frilly white shirt. My hair is then in 2 low and loose bunchies with a black and white flower in it.
"Oh this? I just pulled it out the closet," She jokes.
"Ha ha. Funny. I hate reaping day..."
"We all do. I feel so bad for Coniine though... Watching another 2 tributes die... Remember last year?"
"Please don't remind me..."
"It was horrific... The volcanic arena..."
"Don't even begin, Val... Now, lets get a move on, shall we? It is reaping day of course,"
"Yep, lets go,"
Val, William and I are all in this years reaping. We get pricked and each go to our sections. Times flies by, and I just concentrate on watching Coniine. She's sitting on a chair, her legs twisted together and her face low. She's dressed in a midnight black long sleeved dress which goes part her ankles. She's sitting there, tears pricking her eyes, holding a small bottle of gin and tonic.
Soon enough, a young woman, possibly mid twenties walks on stage. Crystal white eyes, electric blue and ice white crimped long eyelashes, skin as white as snow, lips neon blue, hair that hangs below the shoulders, dead straight and platinum blonde and tge ends are dip-dyed the colour of her lips. She is then dressed in a dress that is hugging her skinny figure tightly and it is a blue dip-dyed short dress.
"District 11! I am your escort... Sabrinah Melson! Now... Lets start with the boys!" She wanders over towards the males bowl. Please don't be anyone I know... Don't be Will...
"The male to compete in the 69th annual hunger games is... William Anderson!"
It can't be. It actually cannot be... Will walks up to the stage, his face a dark greeny-grey colour. But before he even reaches the steps, a loud voice booms.
"I VOLUNTEER!" Thank you! Thank you, god! Oh thank god my brother won't die!
A strong muscular 18 year old walks on, short spiky black hair, tan skin and sapphire eyes.
"A volunteer! This is highly unusual! What's your name, dear?"
"Lovely name. Now for the girls!"
As Sabrinah calls my name, I know that this was rigged, or the Anderson family has the worst luck ever. But unlike with William, no one volunteers for me. I walk up with a straight face, not showing any emotion, whatsoever.
"May I present to you, the tributes representing District 11 in the 69th hunger games; Xanthie Playzer and Sorrel Anderson!"
First in is Coniine, William and Val. No Rowan.
Coniine has tears running down her eyes. Actually, so does Val and William.
"Sorrel... What am I going to do?!"
"What are YOU going to do?! What am I fucking going to do?!"
"This is going to ruin BOTH of us! You don't realise it, but this is all my fault!"
"It ain't Coniine, give it a rest. At least you will have each other in the Capitol..." Mutters William. We just hug it out until they all leave.
Next in is Mama, Violet, Thorne and Nettie. Mama has a sad face; Of course.
"Oh my baby! Sorrel, come here," We hug and say things comforting to each other. She's been through this before. Poop Mama.
I walk over to my darling Nettie. She's got big tears rolling down her cheeks.
"W-wherre are you going?"
I bend down to her height and stroke her cheeks as I whisper. "I'm going somewhere far far away and I won't be back for a while. Now, gimmie a hug,"
We say our final goodbyes, and Coniine, Xanthie, Sabrinah and I are shipped off on a train. I go straight to my room and cry. Soon I hear something slip under the door... A brass scrap of ragged metal, with a whole in the middle. Through the hole is a dark tiny vine of tatty black nettle cord. This is Coniine's token from her games. Now it is mine.
"He wasn't meant to volunteer! Coniine Anderson was meant to pay for what she did!"
"Now, calm down, Mizzelli-Mae, at least one of her goddamn siblings are going to die. She will still pay for what she did. Without a doubt,"
"But what if, somehow, Sorrel wins? And we cannot prevent it? What will happen?"
President Snow smirks. "That's where you come in..."
"How? What does it have to do with me?"
"If the games go... Unplanned, then it is all the gamemakers fault. And they will pay with they're life,"
I gulp and nod stiffly. Sorrel can't win. She won't.
Author's Note: Now, my fellow fanfictioners, this is the part where I act very immature... I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO A MYSTERY POV! Hope you liked it... Oh! And please please please check out my story "Deceased Angel", on the website quotev! It's by me (DUH), Autumn Black 74.