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the deal was that if julia blackthorne won the 68th hunger games she'd live the rest of her life in peace. she planned to spend the rest of her life high as a kite, growing a sweet little herb garden for her baby...
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THE 68TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES HAD BEEN A TORRID AFFAIR. Blood, guts and gore galore; with a hearty helping of backstabbing and betrayal.
Julia Blackthorne had barely flinched when Ravenna Hopewell called out her name, beckoning her up to the makeshift stage in District 8's market square. Of course, inside she'd been screaming, heart beating hard enough to burst out of her chest (in hindsight, she might have been better off if it had). Little Emrys had only been 6, but the young boy understood exactly what was happening, and it took three of their elderly neighbors to keep him from scampering his way up to his unnaturally stoic sister.
Reece Costa had taken his place beside her with a tremor in his hand, shifting uncomfortable - he'd sat beside her in her history class before she'd dropped out to finance her little family's survival.
Only two people came to visit her that day. Emrys, who'd been bawling his eyes out, had been on a hellbent mission to claw the eyes out of any peacekeeper within a 3 meter radius. She'd kissed him on the head with a shaky smile and told him to remember to plant the sage whilst she was gone. She'd be back before it was fully grown, she told him. Her second visitor had been her elderly neighbor promising to take care of Emrys in her absence. She'd said farewell, not see you soon.
She'd barely spoke a word to Reece aboard the train, no matter how many times he poked her ribs in an attempt to tease a response out of her. Cecelia had been assigned to mentor Reece, whilst Woof (who was almost certifiably completely senile) had taken Julia by the hand and pulled her into a maintenance room to marvel at the copper piping. She hadn't minded too much - she'd never seen copper before.
The Capitol, she soon found out, was everything she'd dreamed to hate and more. Ridiculous nail lengths, outlandish fashion choices, and unbearably loud perfume. The food on the other hand, had had her moaning into her dinner plate (and Ravenna Hopewell reprimanding her abysmal table manners).
In the training room she'd stuck to herself, hiding away in the shadows, watching - waiting - learning. She'd quickly noticed that the tributes from 4 threw their spears in the same way she caught her fish in the rock pool in 8; the ones from 2 flung their knives in the same way she'd play darts with Emrys against their back door; the girl from 11 recognized the same plants she did from the pitiful herb garden she'd started on their kitchen window. And best of all, Julia noticed she could swing through the rafters in the same way she'd had to weave her way through the elevated tubing of the District 8 factories.
The gamemakers had awarded her a mighty score of 10; Woof had thrown a basket of bread rolls in the air in celebration, Cecelia had smiled and Reece had stormed out of the room.
