The 66th Hunger Games~ The Wattpader's Edition! {ON HOLD UNTIL SUMMER}

Slade Torin

District 12 Mentor (AmenityEverlark)

Name: Slade Torin

Gender: Female

District: Twelve

Age: 35

Appearance: Brown hair, a golden streak near her left ear

Won: 59th Hunger Games

Introduction : Reaping

"Do you have no values?"  

"I do; but you don't deserve my trust, and I can't waste them on the likes of you." I snarl, raising the blade in my hand. I watch as she squirms beneath me, while my other hand occupies her whip, its long leather coiled around my fingers as I tease the girl below me. 

"Slade," she chokes out, as I bring the knife to her throat. "Don't.. do this. There's three left. I'll... I'll help!"

"You had your chance, Raziel. You had a lot more than you deserved."

A cannon fires. 

I still hear her screams, and my own, when my eyes snap open to an obnoxious buzzing from beside me. Bleary eyes search the bright room, and then my hand stretches out to push the 'snooze' button, then flipping the switch off.

Then it dawns on me what today holds, as soon as I smell the scent of soap from the air outside, wafting through my window.

Reaping Day. 

I remember my own, which was unusually cold, and I wore a wrap over my dreary grey dress; threads matching the clouds, I can picture everyone else—thin boys in slacks, dress shirts; while willowy girls walk in dresses like my own, or a pairing of a blouse and skirt—with sad and mourning faces, as though whomever was picked, were already gone. A death sentence, to say.

"Our vexed children, sent to great gala! Slade Torin and Ransom Cage! Let's have some wondrous enthusiasm, shall we?"

There was an outer ring to the sectioned square, making the area resemble a cube of different prey... surrounded by the watchful and cautious. Those in the middle were in danger. 

A terribly dressed woman with aqua skin pranced on stage, joined by only the mayor, and an indistinguishable man with a surly temper—Tameryn Boax. He'd won the 37th Games, and was a drunk like no other. 

I can scarcely remember his face now, and to clear the haze, I cup water into my palms, splashing it over my sickly-looking, pale features. 

All I know is that Tameryn's casket is located somewhere official, and someplace where people handle it as if his body be a disease. I guess it could be, by the fact that he hardly gave me any advice, except for a miserly running joke in this district...

"Go out in a bang!" 

I turn around in the mirror that I stand near, looking over the reflection and reaching behind me to tie my belt. The clothes in the Capitol are ridiculous, though I managed to snag some that resemble normalcy. A coal black blazer, pencil skirt, and a solid-colored tie on the neck of my shirt. 

"Accept the fact of your probable death, and keep your whimpers inside. Seem strong, while you sob inside."

All too soon I hear the tolling of the bells, and the crying. The hushed whispers and clack of rare heels on the stone Justice Building's stage. 

"Our gems... Fiero and Melina!" The lady screeches, bringing her hands high above her translucent skirt that foams like waves when she walks. 

More like glass, even more fragile, I think, tucking my hair behind my ear angrily; I grab the two's wrists and yank forward, then they stumble after me into the shady Justice Building. 

"Go say goodbye, it's your last chance. Might as well cry now, get it over with." I bark, thrusting them forward, in opposing directions.