Storm: A Hunger Games Story {Book One of the Storm Trilogy}

PART THREE: The Mentor (Nineteen)

SIX MONTHS LATER:

I was more than sure that they would pick my brother this year. Siblings of victors are just as famous as the victors themselves. My brother was well-liked in the Capitol, unfortunately.

I hadn't done anything to anger Snow. In fact, I felt like I had become a Capitol puppet. There was no reason to harm anyone around me. I hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe they would spare my brother for that? No, I don't think they would. Having him in the games would be beneficial to them, regardless of all the sucking up I've been doing. Interview after interview, Capitol party after Capitol party, all in the span of a year.

I barely slept. I was too afraid. I was haunted by nightmares of Mason in the games, being hunted by careers or mutts. Nightmares of him dying, over and over and over.

"If you get picked, I don't give a damn what I have to do. You're going to survive. I swear it Mason." I told him, trying not to cry. He pulled me in so tight I thought he might never let go.

"No matter what, I love you Ophelia."

"I love you too."

The square was packed, as always. Wes, Cecelia, and I were escorted onto the stage. We took our seats next to Mayor Fields, and the rest of the District Eight government.

Anastasia took to the stage wearing a bright purple, glittering dress that stopped right at her knees. It poofed out in her hips, and fell down into a pencil skirt. I can't imagine how uncomfortable that dress is.

"Welcome District Eight, to the Reaping for the 69th Hunger Games! As always, ladies first." She swirled her hand in the glass bowl, plucking another unlucky name. She strutted back to the microphone, her stilettos echoing through the sound system.

"Lilah Aldaine!" As the girl began her walk to the stage, I noticed she couldn't be older than fifteen. Her dress was well made, probably meaning she was from the richer side of the district. She had dark hair, brown skin, and dark eyes. She reminded me of Trina. She walked onto the stage slowly, taking it all in, just as I had done the year before. No one volunteered.

"Wonderful! Now for the boys." Anastasia picked yet another name, one that I believed was my brother's. Wes held my hand, and I closed my eyes. I didn't want Snow to see my cry when I hear my brother's name.

"Apollo Keaten!" I let out a deep breath. My brother wasn't chosen. The boy who was chosen showed no emotion upon hearing his name. He walked up to the stage with confidence. He was most likely eighteen, with a stocky build and tan skin. His dark hair was swooped back with gel, like most boys.

"District Eight, here are your tributes. Lilah Aldaine and Apollo Keaten!"

———————

After the Reaping, Wes and I were brought to the train to wait for the tributes. I was officially a mentor. This would be my life now. Television appearances, interviews, and mentoring children who will probably die.

Anastasia came strutting into the train with our tributes. They looked around at the luxury we were all kept from in our district. Wes stood up to greet them, and I followed. This was his third year as a mentor. I'll basically be following his lead.

"Hi, I'm Wes, and this is Ophelia. We will be your mentors." He greeted them. The boy, Apollo, nodded. He shook hands with us and continued looking around the dining cart. Lilah came up to us to shake our hands as well.

"I'm sorry you were chosen." I told her quietly.

"Thanks. You too." She turned and walked over to Apollo, giving him a hug. I was a bit taken aback. I wasn't expecting her to reply like that, but I'm glad she did. She's clever, and she could use that for the games.