A Pawn in Their Games

Chapter Two

Emma’s job at the ranch had been to watch over the animals as they grazed. She would sit out under her favorite cherry blossom tree with a sickle lying on her lap, in case any wild animals needed to be chased away. There was one day just a few years before, when she was ten, when she had dozed off while on duty. A wolf had snuck into the grazing pen, and decided the sleeping girl would be better than the few animals dispersed around the large area.

With a leap it pounced on her, scratching and biting at her face and neck. When she was woken up by the wolf pressing all of its body weight onto her slim figure it felt like all her breath had been stripped from her lungs.

That’s what it felt like now, standing here while her older sister slowly walked up to the stage. Emma watched Tylie, her head held high and her straight chestnut locks waving behind her.

She should’ve been happy that her sister was leaving, that she would never have to put up with the constant bullying again. But she was… sad? Why would she be sad or scared for her sister? She should hate her sister. She closed her eyes for a moment before the song came creeping back into her mind…

“Are you, are you

Coming to the tree,

Where they hung up a man they say murdered three?” In front of her was a tall tree, whose branches stretched out far into the horizon. It seemed like these branches at one point held to many leaves to count, but now were bare and a creamy brown color. Underneath it was a poorly built stage; at least it looked like a stage. There was a lever on one end, its purpose Emma couldn’t decide. Two nooses swayed from the dead branches in the wind, a small voice rang out over the area.

“Strange things had happened here,” A woman stood by the tree’s trunk, touching it with her pale hand. She looked up at Emma, her grey eyes boring holes into the young girl before she looked back at the tree and continued her song;

“No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight at the hanging tree?” A strong gust of wind pushed Emma’s head up, in the formerly bare branches was a picture. A moving picture, Emma raised a eyebrow but kept watching.

A woman with a tall eggplant colored hat stood on stage, her hand in a large glass bowl. Obviously a woman from the capitol, she thought. The woman carefully plucked a slip out of the bowl, un folding it and reading the name in a loud voice.

“Primrose Everdeen!” A little girl, probably a twelve year old, with blonde braids slowly stepped out and into the aisle between the group of boys and the group of girls. Her face was ashen; anyone could tell she was holding back tears.

An older girl stepped out of the group, chasing after the little girl. The older one’s mouth opened, and one phrase rang out of it.

“I volunteer!” Emma’s small voice rang out over the area; her eyes opened and went wide. She gripped the fabric of her dress as realization donned on her.

She had just volunteered for Tylie! For her abusive sister of all people!

She swallowed the lump rising into her throat as she put her chin up. She stepped out of the group, each step a challenge as her limbs protested. She knew this was the end, she would never win the Hunger Games. Never.

She turned and shakily walked up to the stage, brushing her sister’s shoulder softly as she passed. Tylie was dumbfounded, Emma shouldn’t have done that. She shouldn’t have volunteered! She had no chance whatsoever!