WILDEST DREAMS - Steve Harrington in the Hunger Games

The 26th Hunger games

This will be the last day I'll ever have to go through this. I am finally 18 years old and this will be the last year being in danger of becoming one of the tributes. I take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror; the sleepless nights are so visible on my face. I have darkness under my eyes, my face is partly red from the stress and my whole face seems a bit swollen. Great. I put my hair into a ponytail and wonder about today's clothes, It's quite hot outside so a dress would be the appropriate thing to wear. And also if I get terribly unlucky at least I'll look good getting sent to die.

I look around my bedroom and take a deep breath. Our life has changed so much in a year. I've lived my whole life in district two and then suddenly we moved to the fucking district seven. People don't usually move between districts but my mom met some man at a party in Panem and as a result, me and my sister moved. From riches to rags. 

My mom used to be a big thing in district two. Our dad was a big boss and trained peacekeepers so we were on the top. Rules didn't really apply to us.

Our life was pretty great in our home district. We lived a great life and had a lot of opportunities and a great future in front of us. Now I and my sister struggle at school and we do not blend in at all at district seven. I feel like we are from a different world compared to the rest of the district's residents. And on top of that, the people at district seven weren't so into us moving here and neither were we. But our mom is happy and that definitely means a great deal to us. So we are managing.

I walk downstairs and look at my little sister eating her breakfast. She has long dark hair and crooked front teeth. She got hit in the face by a ball and we haven't been able to fix her teeth; it's too expensive. 

God, I miss our old life.

"Good morning." She turns around to look at me and her eyes turn as wide as the plate in front of her. "Oh my god you look awful. You look horrible".

"Thanks," I say and roll my eyes at her. "You look okay, you slept well?"

"Better than you, I heard you crying," Nina says.

"I didn't cry." I say and gently push her. "I was praying."

We are like day and night. She has always been like the sun: she is fun, light, beautiful, and carefree. She lives life to the fullest, at least like normal 9-years old do.

Me? Completely different. I am neurotic, nervous, stuck to my old habits, and a little bit chaotic. I am like a free spirit but with a lot of neurotic habits. 

We both practiced a lot for the hunger games in our old home district. I am extremely against the games, against the Panem, and against our President Snow. She isn't but it's only because she is so young. We were brainwashed in our old district, lied to, and told false information about our "great" country and the games. We knew nothing about the suffering of other districts.

I learned the truth around the year I turned 14. I was really invested in the game that year because there was this guy from my district, Alec. He was tough, strong, tall and like no one else I've ever seen; Charismatic, funny and he won.

The thing is that he killed a 12-years old child and broke down completely. He sort of lost his mind and has never been the same. After the game, he gave an interview about the game and talked about how it felt to kill an innocent child. A few days after that his parents died. Was it an accident? Don't think so. Besides me and my mom, I know one person who also hates the games but we don't talk about him. We never talk about him. 

Before that, I never really thought about the actual tributes. They seemed more like characters from a fake tv-show then actual people.

Now it seems so real; They all have families, parents, and siblings, and friends and they deserved to live a happy life, not die for entertainment. 

I lived in some sort of fairy tale where winning the Hunger games was some sort of honor instead of a show where rich people watch little children die.

My sister's bubble is very slowly bursting. She was in shock when we moved to district seven and she saw truly poor people for the first time. We had some less fortunate kids in district two but it wasn't the same as it's here. Here those kids are not hungry, they are starving. 

The only tragic thing that ever happened to us was our older brother and dad dying when we were kids. They both died when I was ten and Nina was basically just born. I become our caretaker. I have blocked them and their death completely from my mind. I rather ignore it. 

When I was younger I definitely thought I'd train and then volunteer when I am older but no way in hell. My sister needs me, a lot. Our mom and the brand new step-dad are extremely into alcohol. Our mother has always been kind of unstable and it got a lot worse when our brother and dad died.

It's kind of funny because both of us have practiced our whole lives so technically we could survive the game. We know how to use a bow, knife, and some other stuff. I've always loved training for the games, even though now I am kind of disgusted by the whole thing. And disgusted by my old excitement towards killing 21 tributes to win.

"The next few years are gonna be great," I say and look out of the window.

"Yeah?"

"I'll be too old to become a tribute and you are still too young. For a few years, we can just breathe."

She stays silent and so do I. I know she wants to volunteer. I turn to look at her and I smile. "You look beautiful." She has straight dark hair where I have curls. She smiles back at me.

"So do you. Even though you should put on a little bit of makeup, just in case."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah." Nina says and giggles. "Cover those dark circles under your eyes, a little bit of foundation, and maybe some lipstick. You wanna look good for the cameras?"

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Fine."

Later that day

"It's time," I say and open the front door. "Let's go."

I grab my sister by the hand and walk out of the door. We go to the reaping day together. Our mom arrives if she's sober enough. Everyone should show up but nobody really says anything about her not being there.

We walk to different sections: I go to the girl's side and she goes to the audience. In three years our roles will be changed. I'll be in the audience, holding out for dear hope and she'll be standing here with other shaking and nervous children.

Iris Sanksion the escort of district seven walks onto the stage. She has big blue perm and huge yellow eyes. Those contacts are weird. She gives her usual speech about the honor of the games and of course a history lesson about our country. This is my last year and after this, I will be free for three years. Three incredible years in front of me.

And holy shit, forget everything I just thought.

She said my name.

Victoria Arison. 

Out of all the hundred names, she said my name. My fucking, stupid name.

Victoria Arison.

 

Author's note

Hey and thank you for reading my first chapter. I've been playing with the idea of this story for a while and FINALLY, I opened my computer and started typing. So thank you for reading.

And yeah, as you can probably tell English is not my first language, it's my 4th :) So prepare yourself for some weird grammar and typos.