The Storybook Games

Chapter 4

Kristoff

I walked home, contemplating my future. Considering the fact that I had signed up for tesserae for 12, it was pretty bleak. The only comfort I had was my reindeer, Sven, and even he would be taken from me when I was chosen.

Why are you so sure that you'll be picked? you may ask. There are other children, right?

Right. There are two other boys in my village, and only one girl. It's pretty obvious.

I petted Sven. Oh, well. Might as well make the best of my last few days. Get food for my family, so that they could at least live longer than I would.

I set out to dig. Trash dig.

Jack

Though school was in session, I'd skipped. The peacekeepers around here were slim, and considering the fact that (a) the Quarter Quell was next week, and (b) there were barely any kids in school to begin with, I figured no one would mind. I'd checked the school beforehand, and the only student there was 8-year-old Gretel*, a small girl who's brother Hansel was not there. It appeared the other boys were skipping school as well.

I walked around the almost empty town aimlessly, trying to tell myself I wouldn't be chosen, that Gretel or Hansel or that other boy-what was his name?-would be reaped. At the same time, I felt like it was my destiny, and I needed to do it.

I focused on the other boy, and his backround. He never talked, never played football on the field, and in general didn't appear much around town. I wondered if he'd be picked. I think his name was Chris. Something like that. Maybe Christopher?

"Oof!" Gretel ran into my back, knocking both of us onto the concrete. I twisted over to take the force of the blow, bashing in my temple in the process.

I felt cool, soft hands feeling my forehead. Gretel sighed. "There's no blood, but you'll have a dent in your temple for the rest of your life."

I sat up, pushing her off of me. "What was that for? You saw me!" I snapped, grabbing her by the neck.

Gretel appeared to be choking down sobs. Only then did I realize that her cheeks her wet from tears and her eyes were red. I released her. "I'm sorry for losing my temper. But why did you tackle me?"

Gretel whimpered. "There-there's been an announcement. The reaping's today."

Kristoff

I lurked around town, staying in the darkest alleys and near the food market. If I heard a voice, I ducked behind anything I could find-a broken rocking horse, a pile of cardboard boxes, even the trashcans I scavenged for food. I knew better than to let anyone see me. If they did, they would screech and howl and demand that I was stealing "their property". Right. So the stuff they threw away, that they said they didn't want, wasn't available for a kid to bring home to his starving family?

As I dug around in a particularly big garbage can, the bells rang. Startled, I let go of the side and went toppling over to the ground. Luckily, the cardboard boxes I'd hidden behind the other day cushioned my fall.

Why are the bells ringing? The reaping isn't scheduled until next week! I thought as I ran towards the square. Will I even get to say good-bye to my family?

When I got there, I was greeted by a tear-streaked Gretel, a concerned Hansel, and a stoic Jack. For the first time, I wondered who would come with me. If this was a normal Hunger Games, then I would be sure of Gretel-wait a minute! Gretel couldn't go in a regular Hunger Games! She's too young! So that's why this Quarter Quell was like this.

Anyway, if Gretel was chosen, I knew she would lose. She couldn't stand to kill anyone, not even the smallest ant. Trust me, I remember. Once, when she were five, I was watching her from the swings. She was drawing with chalk, tongue stuck out and everything, when she started crying. Hansel ran to her immediately, concerned. In between loud sobs, she told him she had killed an ant with her chalk. Hansel had rolled his eyes and told her there were millions more, but she insisted that that one had a proper burial and service.

If Hansel was chosen, I didn't think Gretel would survive. She loved her brother so.

Jack? I didn't know about him. I looked at him closer. Where had he gotten that dent on his forehead? It looked painful.

My thoughts were shattered as Gaston, our announcer for the Hunger Games, stepped onto the stage. "Welcome, one and all, to the 100th annual Hunger Games!!" He paused, waiting for us to clap. No one did. He coughed. "Ok, then. Let's get started! First off, introducing our amazing, wonderful, awesome announcer, it's-"

Gretel turned to Hansel, confused.  "They got a new announcer?"

"ME!!" we all clap, rolling our eyes and yawning. "Now, I shall draw the slips." He stuck his pale, sickly-looking hand in the reaping ball, poking it around the four pieces of paper. "And, the lucky person is-" he paused dramatically, making sure everyone was listening. "Kristoff Fjordman!"

Jack

Kristoff-so that was his name-walked up to the podium, not looking surprised at all. In fact-I look closer-he appears to have known his name would be called!

"And, for the second tribute, we have drawn- Jack Frost!"

I take a deep breath, then step onto the stage.