DIVESTED: A Hunger Games Story

CHAPTER 2

"Wow... This moves me every year." He starts to clap, but nobody joins along. "Well then... Time to start. Young ladies first." He walks over to the glass bowl and reaches his hand into it, swiftly pulling out a folded card. He is holding the fate of some kid in his hands. As he opens it, his face drops, and he turns completely white. He walks back to the microphone,

"Persephone Craven."

As my name is called out, a shiver runs down my spine. Fear grips me uncontrollably, and my heart pounds in my chest. My breath catches in my throat, and my hands tremble uncontrollably. The realization quickly hits me like a tidal wave - my life as I know it is over. I won't be coming back from the Hunger Games. The thought sends shockwaves through my body, paralyzing me momentarily. Everything around me blurs into a hazy fog, and my ears start to ring. I can hear my own heartbeat thundering through my ears. I hear my mother shriek, her voice echoing through the square.

"Come on up, sweetheart," My dad tells me through the microphone. You can see in his face and hear in his tone that he isn't happy with the name that was called. His own daughter. My knees feel weak, threatening to give way beneath me as I walk through the aisle and onto the stage. I know there is no escape. I am trapped, just a pawn in their game where survival is an illusion. I am destined to die in the arena. I am so in shock that no tears are falling from my eyes. I am emotionless. At this moment, I am no longer me- All I am to everyone is a soon-to-be-dead tribute.

"And-" He takes a deep breath, trying to control himself. "For the gentleman." He walks to the other bowl and does the same. He unfolds the paper and goes back to the microphone.

"Onyx Peak-"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A voice in the crowd hurriedly cuts him off, not hesitating for one second.

"Come on up!" A tall and built boy walks onto the stage, his dirty blonde hair cascading over his forehead. He was standing in the front, so I assume he is 17 or 18.

"And what is your name?"

"Arvel Peak." He has a cold tone. You can clearly tell he isn't volunteering for riches or glory.

"And I'm guessing that was your brother?" Arvel nods at his comment.

"Well then, let's congratulate our tributes for this year's games, Persephone Craven and Arvel Peak!" He claps. My dad does a fantastic job at containing himself- putting on a fake persona. We walk into the double doors once more. I, again, go into a small room. Peacekeepers bring in my new family. My Mom and my sisters.

"You got an hour." They say sternly. An hour, then forever, goodbye. My reunion was cut too short; I was only here for a day. 24 hours isn't nearly enough time. My mom hurries and pulls me in for a tight hug; she starts to choke up on tears.

"I'm living this nightmare all over again." She tells me. "You have to win. Do whatever it takes."

"But... I had never even touched a weapon before. I got in my fair share of fights at school- but that's not life or death." I start to breathe heavily.

"Play it smart, Persephone. I know you can at least do that. You are much smarter than you think." I take a deep breath, then hug her tighter.

"Here. Your tribute token." She says to me, pulling out a beautiful silver flower hair clip. It's a posie.

"It is so beautiful... Thank you." After what seemed like minutes, my time was up. Goodbyes are over. Peacekeepers pull me onto the train, along with Arvel. The train is beautiful inside. These are the ones that go around 250 miles per hour. They are so spacious; it's crazy how the train can go so fast, yet it feels as if nothing is moving. The Peacekeepers lead Arvel and me to our rooms, directly across from each other. We still haven't exchanged words, but I'm unsure if I want that to change. Once we get into the arena, there can only be one winner. I don't want to get close to anyone, especially if they are all going to die. I don't know how I am going to win. I refuse to throw my entire life away because of this-- I refuse to let the Capitol destroy me. I'm definitely no hunter, but I do know about plants. A lot about them. They were Dad and I's only food source for a while. I also had my fair share of fistfights at the Capitol-- that's at least a start. If I practice thoroughly at the training center, I can quickly get hand-to-hand combat. I need a plan; I have a few days on the train to think of one. Allies or solo? Fighting or hiding? So many options... but most of them end with sudden death. A bloodbath at the cornucopia. I throw myself onto my bed, still numb. There are no tears, just complete and utter fear. There is no time to wallow in it; I must get dressed and have dinner. I walk over to my closet and see many options. Comfort and confidence go a long way. I put on a long-sleeved dark purple shirt and black cargo pants. Then, I put my mother's flower clip back into my hair and walk outside my room, heading to the dining room. My dad stands up and hugs me. Arvel is already sitting at the table, along with my supposed mentor.