James Godfrey's (District 9) P.O.V:
I stand in the audience with my mother. We are at my older sister's Reaping, to watch, and when the time comes for the fifteen-year-old Reaping, I hope she will be here to watch me.
I strain to see over the many heads that block my view of Nora. I can see the escort walk out of the Justice Building, and hear her 'hello, hello, Happy Hunger Games' whatever. I rely on my sense of hearing to tell what is going on now. Her heels clack as she walks over to a glass ball with either boys or girls, I can't tell. I bite my lip. Not Nora, please not Nora.
"Owen Lithe!" It was a boy. Thank God it was a boy. I breathe a sigh of relief and try to think. Owen Lithe... Where have I heard that name before? Was it... Nora's boyfriend? Am I remembering that correctly? I think so.
The heels begin to clack again and I know that it is time for the girls. Please, please, please, please, please not Nora. Not Nora. Not Nora. Not Nora. Not Nora. I repeat this in my brain. Not Nora.
"Nora Godfrey!" The Capitol woman says. I cover my face with my hands and sink to my knees. I let out a curse. Now I have to repeat something else. Live Nora, live Nora, live Nora.
President Snow's P.O.V:
I admire the name of the girl who has just been reaped to represent District 10. Isis Osprey. Isis. Sounds like ice. I suddenly have an epiphany. I call down to Jumbalya. "Jumbalya, every drop of water in the arena is ice. Even the rain that will happen on the 2nd day," I say. Ah, I just love epiphanies!
"Would you also like cold temperatures, sir?" Jumbalya asks.
"Yes, Jumbalya, especially at night." I suddenly have another thought. Maybe it would be best not to kill Jumbalya. Well, we'll have to wait and see how she does in the other games. Yes, we will. I have just hung up on Jumbalya when I think about the rest of Isis's name. I re-call Jumbalya. "Jumbalya, birds. Include birds." I cut the line before she can say anything else.
I turn back to the Reaping. A young man named Vernon Diggory has just been chosen. There is a girl crying in the background. I ponder if it is his year-younger sister or his year-younger girlfriend. They look relatively similar, but then again, everyone in 10 looks similar. But he is relatively attractive. For a young man from 10 at least.
The escort walks them into the Justice Building, and I turn the television off to a high-tech transparent screen and sit silently at my mahogany desk, plotting the death of Felicia Feathersfowl.
YOU ARE READING
THE 150th HUNGER GAMES
FanfictionThe story of 192 tributes in nine different Games, the special twist for this 150th year of the Hunger Games, the experiences they will have, and the two rebels that could change everything. ~do both of us a favor and don't copy #Bowlicia~