[Prequel to CAN'T CATCH ME NOW]
Irene Portwell knew she was made for the extraordinary.
She just didn't know it was her 'destiny' to end up in the hunger games the moment she heard her name called.
Everyone had placed a sickening bet on her, sayin...
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—— HUNGER GAMES, as far as a twelve year old could remember, was the yearly event where children from the age of 12 to 18 were being sent to fight for their survival. Between life and death, the victor will achieve eternal glory, fame and freedom.
Irene Portwell would beg to differ.
District One was commonly known to have the most victors from the past hunger games. This was because they were given the advantage of attending career training programs mentored by previous victors, followed by being well fed and one of the wealthiest districts amongst 12 districts, followed by 2 and 4.
The very recent victors from district 1 were Gloss and Cashmere. Irene knew them well enough because the latter had been spending most of her time at the Portwell's workshop just to see her stepbrother; Perseus. They've been together before Cashmere was reaped, and Irene remembered how she had been there by Perseus' side to comfort him as they watched the 64th hunger games, soon accompanied by the previous year's victor, Gloss.
When Cashmere had returned, everything changed. Nothing was the same and despite being the youngest of the three teenagers, Irene understood very well to not trust the president's every word, as he himself had a different meaning of freedom in his dictionary. It happened when she overheard Cashmere confronting Perseus of what she had been told to do. The price of her body as an exchange for her freedom and the freedom of her loved ones.
Gloss and Perseus were outraged, and Irene was silently fuming. Such emotion was being held in a small body. Her hatred for the president continued to grow every passing hour.
But district 1... they were blinded by the luxury to notice it. They took pride in every victor that represented their district. They worshiped the Capitol and their president, ignoring the death of their fallen tributes and disregarding it as failures.
It made her ashamed to be a part of its people.
Irene looked outside her window, with her bed pushed in the corner of her room next to the window. Legs tucked beneath her chin as her arms wrapped around her legs. Behind her, Cashmere combed her hair and began her work to section it before braiding it. The older girl noticed the distracted look on her face and softly smiled.
"Everything okay in that pretty head of yours?" Cashmere asked her. Her fingers swiftly transfer strands of her soft blonde locks from one finger to another.
She heard Irene snorted. Something that Jolene would no doubt scold her for. "It's just– I'm thinking how ridiculous the hunger games are. It's a curse." Irene muttered.
Cashmere sighed. "There's nothing we can do about it, Irene." She said. "We don't have the power to stop it, and even if we do, the peacekeepers will have us hanged or executed." The blonde carefully turned the girl to face her once she had finished braiding a piece of her hair and let the rest cascade down her back in soft curls.
