The Games
Rose's story.
Chapter One
I didn't know where I was going, or what I was going to do, but I needed to get out. They were going to kill me if I didn't follow my instincts, and my instincts were telling me to get the hell out of the locker rooms. It was three against me. The odds were definitely not in my favor, unlike Effie Trinket's famous words (by the way, will she ever die?!).
Some sick, pshycotic man decided to take power and start a tyranny in England. Yes, England. Then, it spread (very surprising, I know) to the United States, where I live. Eventually it spread to the whole world (This crazy man only likes to make Americans fight the Games because of our ancestors who declared independence from Great Britain so many years ago). But, yes, we all have districts, and we all get "reaped" every year, and we all watch or participate in the Games each year. I was fine, until this year. Instead of the age range being 12-18, this pshycotic man thought it was unfair to have 12 year-olds fighting 18 year-olds. So, now, it's 16-21. I just turned 16. Oh, what a generous man. (I love sarcasm).
Back on track, though. So I wasn't the most popular girl in our school. This was obvious. I was never admired by the girls in my school, they hated me. I don't know why. Every time I would hang out with my best friend, Jake, I'd get really nasty looks. C'mon, he's just my friend. Anyway, Jake and I were hanging out in the locker rooms, where no one ever goes because we don't have sports at school anymore, and we were just "cuddling" as the girls called it. What I say it was, though, was a girl that was tired, and crying her eyes out because tomorrow would be her first reaping, and a boy best friend that's been entered in reapings for two years now, comforting her.
"You come back here you--"
I turned around and stopped. "What? What am I? Because I have a best friend named Jake, and you don't? Awww. Boo. Hoo. Hoo." I whipped back around and bolted outside to where Jake was standing, laughing at me.
"What?" I said breathlessly.
"You, Rosey, look hilarious when you're running from pshyco girls wanting to rip your throat out."
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't call me Rosey. And for your information, I was running so they could come and find you." I grinned my evil grin.
Jake's eyes looked like they were gonna pop out of his head. "Let's, uh, go...home. Now." Next thing I knew he hopped onto his horse, and swung me onto the horse as well, and he bolted as the girls stood back, scowling and muttering inappropriate words at us.
Later that night, Jake and my brother Pete were playing cards and chatting just like they do every night. I, however, was being the mother of the house and ironing my dress for the Reaping and washing Pete's and Jake's clothes.
"Rose, honey, why don't you get to bed? You need rest." My older brother Pete took the iron carefully from my hands and brushed some hair from my face. "Go to bed hun." He kissed my forehead and started ironing his pants for tomorrow.
I slowly walked down the narrow hallway, my eyelids refusing to stay open. My mother's picture caught my eye. Her smile was tired, and she was holding a baby with blonde hair and pale skin, newly wrapped in a hospital blanket. I remember vaguely, my mother telling me about how she refused to ever have children. Then, she led the whole Resistance and overthrew the tyranny of Mr. Phsyco man. It didn't work. When I was thirteen, Pete sixteen, strange men with white suits and helmets stormed into our house, screaming for my mother to get out of her hiding spot, or they'd kill all of us. My father tried to stop my mom, but my mom was a determined woman, and came out to save her precious family. Right there, in front of me, Pete, and Dad, my mother was murdered. Brutally beaten, then shot with an arrow. Not just any arrow, a flaming arrow with a mockingjay on the bow.
"Rosey dear." Jake was behind me. "Bed."
I tried to turn around and slap him, but he grabbed me around the waist jokingly and dragged me to my room. He kissed my cheek and flopped onto his bed on the other side of the room. Pete didn't like it, but her knew better than to think Jake and I were romantic at all. Jake's like a second brother to me.
"Rise and shine Rosey Posey." It was my father's strained voice. "I got ya some of those cheese rolls you love."
I opened my eyes and smiled up at my blonde-haired, blue-eyed father. His beautiful blue eyes were sad, and they've always been sad since the love of his life was killed. "Thanks Daddy." I kissed his cheek and hopped up. "Now shoo, I gotta get dressed." My dad's eyes seemed dark, hiding something. He knew something.
A few hours later, I realized that today was the day. My first Reaping.
I hope you liked it! More chapters to come. Oh, and don't like it at first? It should get muuuuch better. Fave and comment please!:)
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