The reaping day is hot and sultry. My breath catches in my throat as I move into my allocated space for 16-year-olds. I see Hull, smiling weakly at me. I smile back, forcing my lips upward. It could be me this time. And I could never get out if it was.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let the 69th Hunger Games begin!"
I look up and see the crazy escort for District 11 standing upon the stage. She flicks her weird lime-green hair to the side. Her heavily shadowed eyes sweep across the groupings of huddled District 11 boys and girls.
"Girls first," she says, putting her hand into the girls' reaping ball. her hand draws out the name and I'm praying desperately that it's not me, that it's not me, that it's not me. . .
"Spicca Asphodel."
Oh god.
It's me.
The name feels like a slap to my face and a punch to my middle.
The cameras begin to zoom in on me, capturing my every facial expression. I remind myself to keep my face straight. I can't afford to lose my dignity at this crucial moment.
I walk in stiff, robotic steps towards the podium.
And my probable death.
"Boys now," the escort says, flicking her hair to the other side.
Okay. That. Is. Super. Irritating.
She digs around in the boys' reaping ball. I'm still recovering from the shock of being called that I almost miss the name being called.
"Hull Whet."
No. No. No.
Why?????????
Yes. it is him.
Hull walks in slow, measured steps, and I clench my teeth as I hope that I don't have to end up killing him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yeah guys, the next part is FINALLY OUT!!!!!!! AHHHHHHH I ACTUALLY MANAGED TO GET IT OUTTTT AFTER SO LONG XD
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Obscured (a Hunger Games Fanfiction) ~DISCONTINUED~
Ficção Científica(Cover art credit to @gooeymallowmelt156)) Spicca Asphodel is a victor, but her glory came at a great price. I made this YA because it involves more mature ideas. Also, the idea of the Hunger Games gives credit to Suzanne Collins, as well as the wor...
