The Hunger Games 3rd Quarter Quell~ rewritten

Chapter 1- District 12

Willow

I wake up in a cold sweat. The sun coming through the window makes me squint my eyes as I sit up in my bed. I look to my right and see my younger brother Cole snuggled under the blankets with his stuffed rabbit he calls Bear. I'm not sure why he calls it Bear considering it is a rabbit, but no one dares to question him. He is only seven years old. I brush his soft auburn hair away from his eyes. I sit relaxed for a moment admiring him sleeping until I suddenly remember, today is the reaping. My chest feels heavy and it becomes harder and harder to breathe. I try to take slow breaths. It's no use. There's no way I can calm myself. I'm sweating even more than I was before because I realized today is the reaping. And this year the odds are even less in my favor because I am thirteen, and my name will be in the bowl twice. I calm down a little bit at the thought that Cole is still only seven and has five years until his first reaping. I try not to wake him as I climb over his legs in an attempt to get out of the bed. I walk over to the door of my small, two room house with beds in the corner of the room and a small kitchen area that takes up the rest. The other room is used as a changing area and has a tub for bathing. Typically, everyone's houses are very small in District 12, unless you're the mayor or you are a victor of the Hunger Games. As of right now the only people who are living in the victor's village are Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, and Haymitch Abernathy— All victors of the infamous Hunger Games. I step outside and breathe in the cool, dry air. All I can think about is the games. What I would do if I got chosen as the female District 12 tribute? Who would be the male tribute to accompany me on my death sentence we call a game? Almost every morning when I go outside I see Gale and Katniss making their way to the woods to hunt. Though I've never talked to either of them before, I admire them. They always make sure that everyone is fed now that Katniss and her family practically have unlimited food after winning the games. I have talked to Prim before. She's in my grade at school, and is very quiet, but sweet. I wasn't very worried last year at the reaping ceremony considering the fact that my name was only in there once and twelve year olds are almost never picked. However after Prim was picked with her name only in the bowl once, I now believe anything can happen. I don't see Gale and Katniss today. Probably because today is the reaping and no one is out and about. Instead everyone is at home spending time with their families in case it is the last time they get to see them. I turn around and see Cole standing there. He is devilishly handsome for a seven year old. He looks nothing like me with his red auburn hair and hazel eyes. I have light brown eyes and hair. We both have pale skin. "Willow?" He says, clearing his throat. "Yes Cole?" I whisper. Cole was named after what District 12 is known for. If you ask me it's irritating. There's already enough talk about coal in 12, why name your child after it. Especially when it's a dirty, dusty substance. My name is Willow. I think it's a pretty name, although I'm not sure where it came from. There are no willow trees in 12. "Are you going to the reaping now?" He whispers back, understanding my hint to be quiet. "No, not until later. For now let's play some games. How's that sound?" I notice a small smile on Cole's face. I usually never play games with him. I'd honestly much rather spend my time doing something more productive, like cleaning or studying for school. I'm a pretty average student. Not the smartest in the class but I'm not stupid. I usually try my best though. I sit on the floor with Cole and play with him. He uses Bear and I use an old stuffed cat of mine that I gave to him. I have to remind him a few times to keep the volume down because both of my parents are sleeping. My mom, who's an unemployed woman with curly brown hair and brown eyes usually stays home all day with Cole. Cole hasn't gone to school yet because of some behavioral issues. At the beginning of the school year, Cole bit his teacher's finger and wouldn't let go. Ever since, my Mom has taught him from home. If you ask my Dad and I, it's hilarious. My mom didn't find it funny. My Dad works all day in the mines like so many other men in District 12. However, since today is the reaping we are all home. I play with Cole for about an hour–the longest hour of my life. By then my parents are both awake. My mom makes us breakfast. A piece of bread and wild blueberries she and Cole picked the other day. We usually don't get breakfast. But after Katniss and Peeta won, we get it occasionally. My father turns on the radio. "Wonder what the quell twist will be this year." He says. They announced it yesterday but somehow my family missed it when our small, broken down television wouldn't work. It probably wasn't too important anyways. This year is the 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games. And with that means that it's the third quarter quell and there will be some twist to spice up the games a bit. One year it was that the districts elected their tributes, the next there was double the number of tributes from each district–two boys and two girls. I can't help but wonder too. After finishing breakfast I played with Cole a bit more knowing this very well could be my last time. I shook away that thought.  After that I put on my dress. It's a soft cream color with a bow that ties around the waist. I brush out my tangled hair and begin to French braid it. My mom doesn't now how to braid, but girls at school have taught me. I put on a pair of dressy shoes which are hand-me-downs and hardly fit. Every time I walk they pinch my toes. I give my Mom and Dad a kiss before I leave. I pick Cole up and swing him around. He is light, only about 45 pounds. "See you later little man." I say to Cole. I have always called him that. He's always trying to act tough, like the big kids. "Bye Wills" Cole responds. I walk out the door. All of the other people of 12, swarm the streets. Mostly kids from twelve to eighteen. Peacekeepers direct the movement to the place where the reaping is held, we call it the square. As I'm walking, I remember something. I never waited to hear what the quell twist was. I walked through the crowd of people trying to find an acquaintance of mine. I don't have many friends at all. I see Prim. We don't talk much, but when we do it's usually pretty awkward. "Hey Prim!" I shout. She looks around trying to comprehend where the voice came from. I shout again "Prim!" This time I got her attention. She walks over to me. "Hey." She says. "Do you know the quell twist?" I ask desperately. "Oh, yes. They said this year that there would be a different age limit." My heart aches. Cole. Cole could be reaped. "Well it's ages twelve through 20. And victors in that age limit can be reaped. It's awful. No ones happy." Prim says as she tucks her hair behind her ear.  I sigh in relief. "Thank you, Prim." I say. I wonder why the age limit goes up to 20. They probably still wanted fresh, young tributes. I stand in line to get my finger pricked, imagining what it would be like thinking that you are in the clear. Thinking you've successfully made it 18 years without being reaped and then you get told that you have another chance to die in the arena. Then my mind shifts to the victors. They think that they can live the rest of their lives in peace, now they may be forced into the arena again. However, they'd probably win anyways. "Next!" The peacekeeper calls as the girl in front of me walks off. It was my turn. The woman in a white uniform pricks my finger. A drop of thick red blood drips onto the sheet of paper with the names of all of the kids of District 12. She presses my finger on the spot labeled "WILLOW FERNSBY" leaving a fingerprint of blood. "Next!" She calls out again. I walk away. I stand with the other kids my age. After about ten minutes everyone is checked in and standing in the crowd. A voice appears over the microphone. "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen." Says a woman with a white face. She looks as if she had just poured a bag of flour over her head. I quickly recognized who it was. Effie Trinket. I personally think she is the most obnoxious being I've ever seen or heard. She is from the Capitol, which makes sense. She has on a pink dress with buttons sewn all over the bottom. The buttons fade from a magenta to a white and wrap around the whole bottom of the dress which stops just above her knees. "Welcome, and happy Hunger Games to all! Now before we begin, we have a special video for you brought all the way from the Capitol!" She says. It's the same video every year. The video talks about the war, explains why we have the hunger games and other useless information. Once it ends Effie Trinket begins to talk again. I don't listen. The only words I can make out are "May the odds be ever in your favor!" I snap back into it after I hear her say "As usual, ladies first." My body trembles. Effie reaches her hand in the bowl and twirls it around for a moment. Then she reaches her hand into the pile of little white papers with a piece of black tape that holds them shut. She finally grabs one. I hold my breath.

"Willow Fernsby!" Effie announces. It takes me a moment to comprehend what had just happened. I feel eyes on me. Not just one or two sets, hundreds. I didn't believe it. I stood there for a while, what felt like an hour. I began to take slow, small steps toward the stage where Effie stands. I feel the peacekeepers surround me. They escort me to the stage. The crowd is silent. I could hear my own heart beat. I walk up the steps. As I turn around to face the audience I see my mother and my father, and then Cole. My mother is not one to cry but I could tell she wanted to. "Very well then. Let's move on to our male tribute, shall we?" Effie says. She walks over to the bowl of boys' names. However, this time when she goes to draw the piece of paper she doesn't swirl her hand around in the bowl. She simply reaches in and grabs the first paper her hand touches. "JJ Michaels!" JJ was a tall 13 year old boy with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. He was also in my grade at school. I've only ever talked to him once. Almost all of the girls at school want to date him. Not me. He's nice enough, but most of the boys are all kinda jerks. JJ walks up to the stage. I notice a couple of his friends pat him on the shoulder. He's not happy, obviously. He walks slowly. One of the peacekeepers grabs him by his arm, hinting to him to pick up the pace. JJ shakes him off. Once he's finally on the stage Effie announces "Here are our District 12 tributes for this year's Hunger Games!" I can't help but scowl. "For this year's quell twist, which most of you already know, the tributes are reaped from all citizens in each District ages twelve through twenty. As a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, and that the Capitol will always be in control." Effies explains. That isn't that bad. At least they aren't making my little brother go in I think. Effie tells us to shake hands. We do. The peacekeepers direct us to the justice building so that we can say goodbye to family and friends. My family shows up, no friends. Not like I have many. My mom hugs me. Her eyes are filled with tears, but none of them manage to slip out. My dad kisses my forehead and I stand there in his embrace for a moment. Then I see Cole. I can see he is trying very hard not to cry. He wants to maintain his "tough guy" reputation he has formed over the years. "I believe in you Wills." He whispers in my ear as we hold each other. That's it. I haven't cried yet, but that made tears flow out of my eyes like a river. "Times up!" Says a peacekeeper. My family is forced to exit the room. I put my hand at my chest and felt a small heart shaped locket held up by a small chain. It was silver and had an outline of another smaller heart on the inside. It was my mother's. I must not have noticed that she slipped it around my neck. I'm not surprised I hadn't noticed, I could hardly even make out the words they said to me.