The Hunger Games : Marvel's Story

Chapter One

 Chapter One

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Put your hands together for the Victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games — Marvel Sanford!" Caeser yells and the Capitol crowd goes absolutely wild as the host grabs my arm and holds it up high in the air. The Capitol love their newest Victor and excitement floods through me as I think of all the priviledges I'll have now. 

Suddenly the crowd can no longer be heard over the sound of my heavy breathing and airy laughter. I try to hold on to the scene for as long as I can for this is amazing. Truly breathtaking, and if I was to let go I may never get it back... 

But then I jump and my eyes snap open to find I'm laying on my bed, my face on the pillow. It takes me a few moments to realise that I'm laying on my stomach and it confuses me as to why I can hear my breakfast being made downstairs by my mother. Then when I get my senses back I understand where I am. 

This is reality. 

And it's the day of the reaping. The dream was too good to be true;  Capitol citizens actually cheering for me? Not in this lifetime. The only thing that's possible about that dream is me actually going into The Hunger Games. But I'm seventeen now, only this year and next year then I'll be too old to enter. Why can't the age range last longer? 

I've tried to volunteer before but, one, someone always gets in there before me and, two, I can't just leave my family on purpose. The only way I'll go to the games is if I'm chosen myself. If I leave my family I think they'll most definitely struggle without me. 

"What were you laughing about?" A menacing voice chuckles and the next thing I know a pillow has been chucked at my head and that's when I notice my scruffy hair. 

"Shove off, Marceles," I groan while smoothing down my hair. Marceles is my younger brother, he's twelve-years-old and this year will be his first year in the reaping. He's always teasing me for one reason or another but I can assure you I don't  take any of the grief. I'll either throw something witty back at him, play fight with him or get him back later.

"That’s the best you got, bed head?" He taunts and jumps onto my bed and pokes my side causing me to flinch. 

"Oh trust me, I haven’t even started," I reply with a grin. I sit up and see my grin reflecting back at me on his face. We're so alike in some ways but so different in others. 

"I’m not exactly going to take that seriously from someone who laughs in their sleep like a psycho," he laughs, 

 "You want to say that again?" I reply not in the slightest way offended. No comment from my brother will make me offended when I can get him back twice as good. 

"Psycho!"

I leap up without warning and pick Marceles up and sling him over my shoulder and run downstairs, laughing just like I did in my sleep causing him to keep screaming ‘psycho’ at me even louder than before.

"Careful, Marvel!" Mother warns as I enter the kitchen and start tickling Marceles as I know he’s terribly ticklish. 

"Yes mother," I laugh as Marceles begs me to let go through his laughter. "Should of re-thought about calling me psycho, shouldn’t you!"

"I-I’m sorry, Marvel!" He says breathlessly. "I d-didn’t mean t-to!"

"Alright, you’re free to go, squirt," I say feeling he's had enough torture for one morning. I bend down and place him on the floor. I see mother is very amused by the most recent performance, which makes me smile. 

"Are you going anywhere today before the reaping?" Mother asks as she sets down breakfast on the table. 

"Only for a little spear throwing," I say and do a slow motion spear throwing gesture with exaggerated facial expressions which makes Marceles laugh.