Jordaniconda Serpentosilius's (Capitol adolescent) P.O.V:
I yawn as my father clicks on the District 11 Reaping. I don't really care about them. I'm already rooting for that cute guy Duke Nachos. Ugh, I'm so jealous of that Alex girl. She gets to be with him.
Somehow, very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very distantly, I am related to a person from District 11, those stupid underdog, non-winner people. No, no, no, it is better if I say my father is related to a District 11 person, not me. I will not go through with that.
My father has our whole family tree for the last 150 or so years laid out on his lap, looking to see if a long-lost relative of his great grandfather has a descendant who just happens to be Reaped today. He'll be rooting for them. Pshhh, I say kill them all. I don't care if we're related.
The guy is called first. "Brett Tinman!" Ugh. I wouldn't be surprised if he was actually tin he moved so stiffly. If that kid needed to run, he wouldn't be able to.
Next is the girl. "Shakita Norton!" the escort calls. She walks up to the stage with a strange smile on her face. Not that happy, but not grimly either. I can't place it.
"Aha!" my father says. "Shakita Norton is related to us!" I roll my eyes, fed up with my father's family tree stuff. I don't care if strange Shakita is related to me.
I don't give a damn whether she wins or loses.
ESTÁ A LER
THE 150th HUNGER GAMES
FanficThe 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~
