Hey, guys! I'm pleased to announce that this is my first FanFiction ever! I will appreciate all reviews. If you see anything that needs improvement, please give me some constructive criticism. No flames, though. Thanks!
Also, a quick note about this book. It's probably going to be relatively short, only about ten to fifteen chapters long. I'm kind of skipping all that stuff with the train and the opening ceremonies and the interviews and all that and just going straight to the Hunger Games themselves. I'll try to update as frequently as possible, but I'm a busy person, so you should probably expect some long pauses here and there. Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!
I lie awake in bed, thinking about the things that have happened to me. The reaping, the train, the opening ceremonies, the interviews… Even though the night is warm, I shiver.
My name is Cassa Rose. I'm a farmer in District 11. And I was reaped for the 23rd hunger games.
It was a windy afternoon. Dark clouds hung above the town, threatening to engulf us in rain. It was fitting weather for that day: reaping day. I had stayed inside for the entire morning, trying to keep my mind off what was to come. But no matter what I did, I just kept coming back to it. Reaping day terrifies me. My parents practically had to drag me out the door when they were ready to go.
I stood next to the only 2 friends I have in District 11, Gloria and Ala. Like me, they're shy. I'm not sure how exactly we ended up being friends. I guess we just started grouping up on projects, and then we started sitting together at lunch, and before I knew it, we were doing pretty much everything together. They gave me a nod, but other than that, they were silent. It didn't bother me. There isn't much of a reason to talk on reaping day, anyway.
Once the mayor finished his speech, Oward Henson, the man who arrives every year to announce the names of the tributes, slowly headed towards the girl's glass that held our names. "Ladies first." He said in a dreary voice. At least he didn't act like it had cause for celebration, like I've seen some of the others at different districts do. He shoved his hand deep into the glass and pulled out a name. I held my breath, and I couldn't help but remember that my name was in their 17 times. Even so, there were thousands of names in the glass. He couldn't have chosen me.
My mouth dropped open, and I struggled to breathe. Cassa Rose. Surely I had heard incorrectly. Surely that wasn't me.
"Cassa Rose? Is there a Cassa Rose here?" Oward asked. I managed to step out and head towards the stage. My head was spinning. I could feel tears spring to my eyes. As much as I tried to hold them back, they began to trickle down my cheeks. "Do we have any volunteers?" Oward asked. I saw Gloria hesitate, but she kept her mouth shut. "Very well. Congratulations, Cassa." Oward told me. I could hear pity in his voice. Then he turned towards the boy's glass. He stirred his fingers through the slips and plucked one out. "Dao Robin." He announced.
Dao Robin. The biggest, strongest, most athletic boy in the entire school. Dao stepped forward with a shocked expression on his face. Like he had anything to worry about! He could easily win. The tiny spark of hope that I held about winning the Hunger Games was whisked away. Dao could slaughter me with a flick of his hand.
"Are there any volunteers?" Oward asked the crowd. None moved forward. "Well, then we have our tributes!" He said. "Shake hands." We shook. Dao's grip was strong and firm. I got the sense that he could throw me off the stage if he wanted to. Great. Just great.
Everything after that was a blur. The train ride, the stupid farmer costumes me and Dao wore for the opening ceremonies, the training score that I got a 4 on, the interview that I totally blew, it all went by in a flash. And now I'm lying in a comfy bed waiting for tomorrow when I'll certainly die. I don't try to muddle my mind with lies that I can win. I know that these games are my doom.
I don't think that I'll be able to sleep tonight, but exhaustion soon takes me and I can feel my eyes closing. When I wake, my mentor, Rocka Lor, is knocking on my door. "Come on, you lazy snob, get up already!" She shouts at me.
I have a strange relationship with Rocka Lor.
Before I know it, I'm under the arena and dressed in a black, long-sleeved shirt, brown pants, a thick coat, and snow boots. My designer, Lida, wishes me luck, and then I'm in a cylinder that's taking me up, up, up. I touch the token I brought, a ring from my parents for my 10th birthday. Suddenly, I'm out of the cylinder. A blast of cold air hits my face, and I gasp. Then the voice of Claudius Templesmith, the announcer of the Games, booms, "Let the 23rd Hunger Games begin!"
I know, I know, that chapter was kind of bad. I haven't written in a while, so I'm considering that to be my "warm up". Hopefully the next chapters are better. Please give me any and all criticism you have, but remember, no flames!
I also want to mention annabelleeddy06. She's making an SYOT story about the 35th Hunger Games, and, last I checked, she needs 23 more tributes. The story is called "35th Hunger Games!" Please check it out and submit your own tribute. Thanks!
Happy Hunger Games,