The Hunger Games: Reigniting The Flames

Chapter 1

It is the day before the reaping and in total; it will be my 16th reaping. I sit up in my bed and look over at the window. The sun hasn't raised yet, which means I'll have time to go into the woods before school. School in District 12 is pointless in my opinion, I mean who wants to learn about the properties of coal when the most we'll ever do is dig it up and chuck it in a cart off to the Capitol? I quietly slide out of bed and walk over to my wardrobe, being careful not to step on any creaky floorboards. I throw on a long-sleeved t-shirt and some trousers before staring at my own reflection in the mirror, debating on what to do to my hair. My long brown hair hangs limply around my heart shaped face. I find it strange how on some days, I look like my mum, Katniss, and then on other days, I look like my dad, Peeta. I have bright blue eyes that stand out against my olive coloured skin, and a spray of freckles across my nose and high cheek bones. I loathe my freckles. I decide on doing a quick fishtail braid. I'd rather not do the side braid my mum does, I don't like being similar to her, although, living in district 12, almost every girl wears their hair in a braid. "District 12: the town of braids," I mutter to myself, laughing at it slightly as I pull a soft, wool hat over my head. I tiptoe downstairs and put on my old worn socks with my brown leather boots that are slightly too big as I'd been given them as a present for my birthday last year but haven't grown into them like my mum expected. I take my cardigan off of the hook by the back door and put it on as I grab a slice of yesterday's bread from the kitchen counter. I silently slip out the back door of my home in the Victors village and walk towards the Seam. My parents would rather I didn't go out hunting on my own, so I have my whole family thinking I go out for a walk around the District every morning.

As I move through district 12 eating my bread, I smell the familiar smell of burnt coal. Most people don't like the smell, but living here, you get used to it. Of course, I imagine the Capitol smells a lot better, or so my parents say. As Victors hey have to travel there every year for the hunger games and so they mentor the poor souls being sent into the arena, like a lamb to the slaughter. People in the Capitol think I'm a lot like my mum and often, too often compare me to her. I am not my mum. I am my own person. Although we share a few qualities, I am definitely not like Katniss Mellark. I'm always referred to as 'the girl on fire's daughter'. Of course, I am her daughter but to be constantly referred to as that gets aggravating as if I don't have my own name. Is it so much to ask to be called Willow? I reach the end of the Seam with the wind blowing the loose strands of my hair into my face. Having to constantly flick the hair out my face as I go, I find my way to the house where my mum used to live with my Aunt Prim and my Grandmother. As I walk through the door, I'm greeted by aunt Prim's cat Buttercup. "Hiya Buttercup," I say as I stroke his ear. At least he likes me; he and my mum have some 'issues'. Even after all these years, Buttercup prefers this small dwelling over our home in the Victors Village. Technically, we have 2 homes in the Victors Village, but my Grandmother and Aunt Prim stay in the house assigned to my mum, whereas me, my Dad, Mum and Brother all stay in the house assigned to my Dad. I walk over to the wardrobe and pull open the doors, feeling for my Mum's hunting jacket in the darkness of the room. As I pull the jacket from the wardrobe I run my fingers along the soft leather, giving me a sense of comfort. It was my Grandfather's before it was my Mother's, and I always wished I could've met him before he'd died. I pull on the over-sized leather jacket and I grab my mum's game bag and abruptly head out the door again, into the chilly morning woods of District 12.

Before me stands a huge fence that surrounds District 12. The very fence that's meant to keep us cooped in. We are told the fence is for our own protection, to keep out wild animals. I know better than to think that. Out in the woods, there are weapons, there's food, and there are Mockingjays that sing forbidden songs. It's what the Capitol is afraid of freedom. I walk alongside the fence until I reach a section where there's a slight gap. It's supposed to be high voltage but we hardly have electricity during the day, only for a few hours or so, plus there was no buzzing sound, so it's not turned on. I position myself on my stomach and wriggle underneath the fence and I quickly pace it into the protection of the trees, covering my tracks as I go just as my Mum taught me to do. I carry on making my way deeper into the forest until I reach a hollow tree. I crouch down and reach into the tree before pulling out a bow and a quiver filled with arrows. Setting it down beside me I pull out the sharp, wooden knife-like weapons I carved myself, and shove it in a side pocket of the quiver. I sling the quiver over my shoulder and begin my hunt.