The story is still a work in progress, though I will definitely finish the whole story.
I worked hard to perfect the plot so I hope everyone enjoys it. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.
"Aim, and shoot."
I release my arrow. The squirrel drops to the ground. Clean shot through the eye, as usual. My mother smiles with a hint of pride in her eyes and tells me to retrieve the dead squirrel.
My mother and I share a lot of similar qualities, from looks to personality. I have her dark hair, but mine is pulled back into a loose ponytail which I flick to one side, right over my shoulder. My mother's now have streaks of white and gray in them, and is always pulled back into a braid. I've tried copying her braid, but it's too annoying and time consuming. I have her skill of archery, and her rebellious personality, which gives my parents a hard time. The only difference is our eyes. I have my father's blue eyes.
My mother started bringing me to the woods since I was small, since I insisted upon it. I was proven to be a skilled archer, but nowhere as good as my mother.
"Let's go home, Lily," my mother says, and we make our way back home.
After the rebellion, District 12 was rebuilt. All the arenas were destroyed, and we learn about the games in History lessons. Our numbers are growing and our economy getting better due to our first mayor after the rebellion, Mayor Camelon.
"Are we going to the graveyard to visit Aunt Prim and the others tomorrow?" I ask.
"Yes. It's reaping day tomorrow."
I nod. I know about reaping day. It used to be the day where the tributes were chosen to participate in the Games, but now it acts as a memorial, to remember the people who died. Even if I hadn't learnt about the original reaping day in school, I watch it from the tapes of Hunger Games I found in the attic a few months ago. I didn't even know it was there. I went to the attic to search for something and tripped over the box. I watch one tape per night. I can understand why the Capitol liked it so much.
"Do you think I have a chance of winning the Games if I were reaped?" Because I do, I silently add in my mind.
"You're lucky enough you don't ever have to," she replies with a stiff look on her face.
I give a slight snort. What kind of an answer was that?
I arrive home and am welcomed by the smell of freshly baked cake.
"Hi Lily! Hi Mom!" my younger brother Ferrous greets us.
Ferrous is eleven years old and I am three years older than him. Like most siblings, we bicker a lot, but deep down we love each other. If he were reaped in the Games, I would volunteer to take his place.
"I baked a cake," he announces, and sets the cake down on the table.
"Without my help," my father comes out of the kitchen.
"Really? Then I'm afraid of eating it," I joke and pinch Ferrous' nose.
He smiles. "Like your cooking is any better."
I laugh and raise my arms up. "Alright, you win."
"Lily, do you want to help Ferrous and I ice the cake?" my father offers.
I shrug. "I don't know. Seems like an awful lot of work. I'd rather go up to my room and paint."
"You know, learning to ice cakes saved my life."
I know that. My parents explained everything about the Games and the rebellion. From the tapes I know they left out a lot of details, but I don't question them otherwise. They explained how the Capitol uses different types of torture. I know how my father got hijacked. I know why he sometimes has hallucinations. I know why my mother often wakes up screaming in the dead of night.
My mother gives me a slight nudge. "Go on."
I smile. "Painting can wait."
"Have fun," my mother tells us. My father leans in and kisses her.
Just like in the arena.