May The Odds Be Never In Your Favour (A Hunger Games Fan Fiction)

[1] The Reaping

Right guys, I love the hunger games and thought I'd write a fan fic :3

It's in the Point Of View of Primrose btw :)

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I could sense it. Today, something bad was going to happen. Something that would probably change my life forever.

Slowly, I roll over in the ancient bed that I share with my Mum when I get scared, being careful not to wake up Buttercup, my lovely little cat, that's cuddled into me. I don't get why Katniss thinks he's so hideous though, he's actually pretty cute.

I don't want to get out of bed, but I suppose I will have to. Seeing as today is the day of the reaping.

I'm just pulling myself out of bed, when I hear the door slam shut, and heavy footsteps leading towards the bedroom I am in now. I hold my breath in, just in case it is one of the Peacekeepers who have come for Katniss, because she hunts in the woods so that we will not starve.

But when the door opens, it's only my loving sister, back with food for after the reaping.

"I'm back, hope I wasn't too long," She tells me. I can't help but notice the worried expression on her face. Yet, I know why that is, she must be scared that I, or even herself, may be picked for the annual Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games, in case you don't know even though surely you must be forced to watch it, is an annual show, where all 12 districts must take part. One unlucky boy and girl are chosen from each district, to fight to the death in an arena near the Capitol. The last person alive is basically the winner and from that moment on, will live a life of luxury. If you're chosen for the games, you have to take part, and somebody cannot nominate themselves to take your place.

I don't expect that to happen though. Compared to Gale who has 42 slips, I should count myself lucky. But that doesn't stop me worrying, just in case the odds are not in my favour today.

"No, you were fine. Just got up anyway. Where's Mother?" I ask her, smiling sweetly so she won't think anything is wrong.

"Making breakfast I think," She replies, as she takes of her hunting boots and stows away her bow and arrows.

Mother soon calls us to tell us that breakfast is made, and all 3 of us took in to a meal of fresh rabbit and grainy bread.

As I'm eating, I can't help but look over to my left, to the empty seat. Father should be sitting there, enjoying the meal with us too, and maybe even singing. And when Father sang, all the birds listened, memorized by his beautiful voice. Yet that won't ever happen again, not after the mine explosion.

I try and take my mind of that horrible day, yet somehow I cannot wipe away the memories. I guess in a way, they comfort me, knowing he died a hero. All he did was care for his family, and always managed to make me laugh.

I feed Buttercup the rest of my rabbit underneath the table secretly, as I don't want to upset my Mother by not finishing of her meal.

The next few hours go by really quickly, and before I know it, it's time to get ready for the reaping. I pull on the cotton top and long skirt that Mother has laid out for me and slip on my ordinary, everyday shoes. We can't afford shoes for special occasions.

Going in to see if Katniss is ready, I gasp at the sight of how beautiful she looks. She's wearing one of Mother's old blue dresses, with matching shoes. Just as i enter the room, Mother is plaiting her hair and clipping it up. She truly does look breath-taking. I guide her carefully over to the cracked mirror, my hands over her eyes, and when we reach it, I let go of her, allowing her to look at herself and see how pretty the new hairstyle looks, compared to her sensible plait she normally wears.

Katniss admires herself for a while, with a unsure look on her face.

"You look amazing," I reassure her, smiling, "I wish I looked like you,"

"Why? You have such a fresh, flawless face with lovely blonde hair. If anything, I should be jealous of you." She whispers in my ear, as she grabs me for a hug.

We stay like that for a minute or so, but when I try and get out of her hold as I know the clock is ticking nearer and nearer to the time of the reaping, she just doesn't let me go. It's like she's saying her last goodbyes; that she has a bad feeling about all this too.

"If I get picked Prim, please look after Mum. Don't let her get like she did when Dad died." Katniss tells me, looking deep into my eyes.

I just nod.

We then walk from the room, hand in hand and standing boldly, like nothing could touch us.

"All set?" Mother asks us, her eyes already tearful and we haven't even got to the reaping yet.

"Yes," Katniss says, as we walk out of our old shambled house, and off towards the square, where anyone of our district will come face to face with death and fear.

By now, each year when the tributes stride of to the Hunger Games arena, we say our goodbyes, forever, as we know there's a one in 24 chance that they will come back, and even then, both of them won't come home. And anyway, we haven't had a winner in 30 years, so we don't expect one this year either. I pray each year that at least one of them will return safe, but I know that the odds most probably will not be in their favours.

As we arrive in the square and I'm separated from Katniss and my Mother as they had to take my fingerprints so they know who hasn't showed up, I can see, almost feel, the apprehension on everyone's faces. Little girls, little boys, close to tears as they think of what could happen to them today. Big boys, big girls, trying their best to be strong for their siblings. Mothers and fathers, looking on as they watch their children walk away, not knowing if they'll ever see them again. They try to stay silent, but inside their heads they're screaming.

I wander to where all the other children my age are standing, looking at the huge stage ahead. A woman, with a pink wig and too much make-up appears as if by magic on the stage, and walks up to the microphone, situated at the front.

"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!" She says down the microphone; the words echoing all around me. Her name is Effie Trinket, and even enough she tries to hide it, we all know she'd rather be at any other district that District 12.

I look at my tensed surrounding, only to see people rolling there eyes at her and her overused make-up, whilst others just continue staring at her, waiting for her next remarks.

"We are reminded of why we have the annual Hunger Games, so now, lets move on to the reaping! And remember, may the odds be ever in your favour!" She announces, beaming at all of us.

Just at the word of 'reaping', everyone freezes. Like that word is the plague.

But Effie Trinket doesn't notice, she just totters over to the huge bowl full of names, some with their name in there one, some with their name in it numerous times. She reaches into the bowl, roots around until her hand reaches the bottom, grabs a slip of paper with the unfortunate victim's name on it, and walks back to the front of the stage.

"The girl tribute for district 12," She booms into the microphone, smiling at everyone, "Is... Primrose Everdeen!"

That's me. I'm the one who's going to die.

No, Effie, the odds are not in my favour today.

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First chapter, so what do you think?

Drop a comment telling me :D