The 151st Annual Hunger Games

District 11 Reaping

Felicity Ginger's POV:

My mother's sweaty palm connects with my cheek, and sends me stumbling backwards. "You worthless-" She starts to slur out, but is cut off by my neighbor barging through the front door. My mother immediately turns her unsteady gaze to Mrs. Robinson. She balls her hands up and advances on her. Mrs. Robinson is used to my mother and doesn't seem fazed by her. 

"Okay, now Felicity. I want you to slowly walk around towards me and stand right here." She vaguely motions to an area behind her. I slowly shuffle around my mother towards the lady standing by the door. She tentatively reaches her hand out towards me. I take it, gratefully.

I'm so scared.

My mother stands unsteadily against the couch, the glass shards from a bottle still in her hand. She glares at me with a kind of vacant look in her eyes, lost.

"Come Felicity. Hurry up." Mrs. Robinson is becoming more frantic by the minute. I stumble through the fallen tables and chairs and shattered dishes toward the front door. I'm practically shoved down the front steps by Mrs. Robinson and the last thing I hear my mother whisper is "I hope you never come back."

~*~**~**~*~**

"What were you doing back there??" She says urgently yet in a hushed tone. "I thought I told you not to go back there while she's there."

I shrug, dismissing her questions. I went back because that's my home and my mother is never going to take that from me. Mrs. Robinson stops abruptly.

"You know what? No. This is your decision, Felicity. I can't force you to leave. I'm just saying that it can be dangerous to stay there with your mother so...upset. I know she's been through a lot lately but..."

"It's fine Mrs. Robinson. I'm happy for your help." I say climbing the front steps ahead of her. I open the door to the house I've already been periodically staying at for months. Immediately the smell of bread and dried bouquets wafts through the air. A small cat saunters through the front hall followed by a tall, redhead about my age. She looks almost identical to her sister. Her sister.

Another reason I hate living here. My best friend used to live here. Macey and Alina. Until Macey was reaped last year. Poor, innocent Macey killed for the fun of the Capitol's games. As much as I like Alina she's just a ghostly reminder of how she's here and Macey will never be again.

I walk straight through the small house and into an old bedroom still scattered with some of my things. I share this room with Alina. I guess I've kind of been adopted into this family. Sometimes I wish I had just been born into this family. Then I wouldn't have anything to remember about my real parents.

I sit on the stiff bed and stare blankly across the room. It seems like hours later until Alina comes and stands with her arms crossed in the doorway.

"Sorry to ruin your day even more Felicity, but we have to leave for the reapings now." She says, half sympathetic, half sarcastic.

~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~

Walking to the reaping is a painful event for the Robinsons. No one says a word but we're all remembering one thing. One person who should be here but isn't. This is the first reaping that we've been to since poor Macey was taken for the Games and we are all tense with nerves and grief.

The people standing in the crowd are of the same sullen mood. District 11 hasn't had a victor in at least a decade and each year the new tributes feel jinxed.

I stand in the 12 year old section alone while Alina waits with the 13 year olds. Our escort trudges up to the microphone and begins.

"Welcome District 11 to the 151st Annual Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favour." He says monotonously. Our escort has probably begun to realize that District 11 isn't really a prominent victor in the Games. He doesn't dwindle on speeches and gets right to the tributes.

"Axel Button!" He says, as though he's annoyed at this boy before he's even met him. Well I've met him. Actually not really. Only to exchange a few awkward words or pass each other in the streets after school. But still, his dark hair and sharp green eyes are hard to forget.

Axel walks out shyly from the row behind me and stumbles up to the platform. He announces his name and age before retreating to a chair behind the escort. The sullen escort fishes around for another name.

"Alina Robinson." He says in a dull voice.

I can see Alina start to shake, her complexion turning pale. I can't even imagine how Mrs. Robinson must feel. Losing both her daughters to the Games in two consecutive years. No. I can't let that happen to her after all that she's done for me. There is nothing left for me in District 11 anyways.

"I volunteer." I say, beginning to walk up to the stage. My voice is steady and strong and I try to conceal my growing fear. I'm never going to come back. This is it. 

Alina turns a sickly shade of white and turns away. I can't see Mrs. Robinson but I can only hope that she understands why I had to do this. I get to the stage and announce my name and age. The escort doesn't seem to care much about my volunteering and just continues to blab on about the upcoming schedule for the Games. 

I sit beside Axel, who turns to face me with tear filled eyes. The escort dismisses himself and turns to head off the stage. We turn to face each other and we shake hands without even being asked to. A silent vow of trust...

A/N: Sorry I do author's notes basically every chapter. Anyways, only one more reaping left to go. My friend White-Red-Roses has started a new fan fiction of her own and she is currently looking for tributes. She has helped me a lot on this story and it would be great if you could go read hers. Also, any special aspects you'd like to see in the arena?