Deep in the Meadow: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 1: The Reaping

A/N (2017): Hi everyone! I just thought I'd put a little note at the top of this story for anyone planning to read it. You're welcome to read on, but please keep in mind I wrote this ages ago, and my writing has improved immensely since then; this is not an accurate representation of my current writing. Also, be warned that I never finished this fan fiction, nor do I intend to do so. I've moved on to other projects that I will hopefully share on Wattpad at some time in the future!

Anyway, if you do plan to read on, I hope you enjoy it!

Katniss must notice my obviously worried expression, because she walks over and gives me a hug. It's my first time at an eligible age for being reaped. The age limit is 12-18, and I just turned twelve. We walk outside and down to the main road, where there are roped-in areas with different age groups. I walk into the 12-year-old section, and turn to the 16-year-old section where I see Katniss flash me a smile. Effie Trinket walks onstage, and a recording of President Snow, parts of the past war, and District 13 play on a large screen. I tune all this out, as it's the same every year. Then Effie Trinket turns off the television and walks over to the podium. I'm especially nervous for Katniss this year. It's the 75th Hunger Games, the 3rd Quarter Quell. When President Snow announced what it was, nobody was happy. This year, they're having a double-sized Hunger Games. There will be two girls and two boys reaped from each district. Instead of the usual 24 tributes, there will be 48 this year. 47 will die.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Effie shouts in her odd Capitol accent as she walks to the ball containing the girls' names. "Ladies first!" She says, as she does every year. After spinning around the ball, she reaches in and pulls out a slip. "Katniss Everdeen," she reads.

"No!" I scream. I see Katniss walking towards the stage. I weave my way between the other twelve year olds and throw myself onto her. "No! Katniss! You can't go!! Please!" I'm pulled away from her, kicking and screaming, by a Peacekeeper.

"Next up..." She digs dramatically through the ball once again, pulling out another slip. "Primrose Everdeen!" My eyes widen. I can't believe it. Both of us? I can't stand the thought of being sent into the arena to fight to the death with my own sister. I look around, tears forming in my eyes. Mom is leaning on another woman's shoulder, crying her eyes out. Tears now dripping off my chin, I slowly walk up to the stage, my legs wobbling. I sit down in the chair next to Katniss and she wraps her arms around me. "Oh, you two must be sisters!" Effie exclaims. Katniss slowly nods her head as I cry softly into her shoulder.

Effie Trinket walks over to the other side of the stage. "Next are the boys!" She says, reaching her arm into the large ball of names. She pulls out a slip and reads it. "Daren Anderson!" A boy walks up to the stage from the 14-year-old section. I don't know him. "And finally," Effie announces, pulling out yet another slip, "Gale Hawthorne!" I feel Katniss tense up. There's no way this is happening. What are the odds that all 3 of us would be picked? I see Gale walk up to the stage and sit down next to the other boy, Daren. "Alright, we have our four tributes! Come on and shake hands, you four!" Effie says. We get up and slowly walk to the front of the stage and shake hands.

Moments later, the four of us are escorted to the Justice Building, where we are put in separate rooms to say our last goodbyes to family and friends. I look around the room. It's nicely decorated, and the sofa I sit on is made of a really soft material. Velvet, I think it's called. I wait for what feels like hours before I hear a knock on the door. "Come in," I call. I see Mother come in and sit on the couch next to me. She's clearly been crying, as I have, and we sit and hug each other for a minute before she lets go to speak.

"Prim," she says, "I want you to know I love you. And your sister. I'm going to miss you." She starts sobbing again, and I wrap my arms around her. There's no point in saying I'm going to win, because we both know I won't. I'm only 12 and there's no way I'll make it out alive, so this is our last goodbye.