Just A Game-Phan/THG

 A/N: This is one of my first fanfics ^^ If you like The Hunger Games, enjoy!

I'm having kind of a Writer's Block now, so don't expect me to update soon :/ I'll make the best I can out of it, and I'll see you cupcakes later! 

(Did I just call you cupcakes? I think I did)

I need to stop

... 

  ”Phil! Wake up!” Sunlight hits my face as I open my eyes. Dust flies around the room.

  “What, mum?” I ask slowly as I drag the blanket over my head. Early mornings are the worst.

  “You need to get up, sweetie” She says. There’s something different in her voice. Then I remember, today is the day of the reaping.

  “Uh-.. I’ll just, get dressed, then” I say.

 We never speak of the reaping, Mum never talks about it. It brings up memories, bad memories. I still remember that day, so well. It was a sunny day, like this. I was only eleven. Fred was fifteen. With only four slips, the odds were in his favor that day. We walked together to the square. Holding hands. But mum was still worried. For the unthinkable to happen. And it did.

In district 2 they always pick the boys first, as opposite to the other districts. In that moment, just before the slip was read, I looked him straight in the eye. And I saw that he knew. He knew it was going to be him. And it was. I remember mum, calling out for him, screaming for mercy. Not him, not Fred. If I had been old enough I’d volunteered. Our district was that kind of district. But no one was willing to take his place, only the wind answered in response. I looked at him, just as he was forced inside the court house. And that was the last sight I saw of him.

I never watched the games, I knew I couldn’t. But later that day, when I was lying in my bed, emotionless, still frozen from the shock, mum came in. And her eyes were dead. She’d lost her favorite son, her lovely Fred. I was told later he was killed by the District 8 male. I had always hated District 8 since that.       

I return abruptly to reality when my little sister, Zarah, enters the room. She has a worried look on her face, fearing that my fate will be the same as Fred’s. She was only two, but I think she remembers, at least the dead, silent month that came afterwards. I stand up, my legs feeling numb, and I walk towards her, lifting her up in a hug.

  “It’s going to be ok” I whisper while hugging her tightly. “Don’t worry; I’ll be here again when you come home.” It feels more like a promise to me than to her.

  “Phil” She says with her angel voice. “I love you”. I can’t help but feel a sting in my heart. If it’s me who’s going in the games this year, who will be there for mum? Zarah can’t, so I’ll just have to wish for the best. I put her down on the floor.

  “Promise to take care of mum if-“I can’t continue, my voice is stuck in my throat and I can only finish the sentence whispering.  “If it’s my turn this year” I finish, turning around to look outside. The sun is beaming, making the room glow. It’s a beautiful day for something terrible. As Zarah walks out I sit down. My family isn’t poor, so taking a tesserae has never been an option. With only six slips in the pool, I’m pretty safe. There’s families is District 2 whose life is much worse than mine.

-

The square is stuffed with people. Children, like me, standing in line, nervously looking around. There are plenty of people around. They’re not in the reaping, they just like to watch, bet on which person who’s going this year. It’s 2 pm. The sun is gazing over my head, making me sweat. I just want all this to be over, so I can drag myself back to my bed and sleep through the games like I always do. Next year is my last year, and then I’m out for good, no worries. In a few years, it’s Zarah’s turn. I don’t know what I’ll do if she is entered in the Games.

I wake up from my trance as Regina enters the stage. Her long, blonde hair is curled and falls light on her shoulders. Her big, green eyes look out over the crowd. Her hair isn’t naturally blonde, and the big, sweet eyes of hers aren’t  naturally green. But this is District 2, and here it’s the looks that are important.

  “Welcome!” She says with high soprano voice. “Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!” She says happily, smiling. I wonder what it’s like, to never have to fear they you might be in the games.

  “The time has come to select one courageous young man and woman, for the honor of representing District 2, in the 41th annual Hunger Games.” She speaks, the same line as the other districts.

  “Gentlemen first” She says, as opposite to the other districts. I hold my breath, please don’t be me, please, not me, not me. Suddenly the square is so silent you could drop a needle and everyone’d hear. You can hear the crowd take a deep breath when she unfolds the slip.

“Philip Lester”

My whole body freeze, my legs feel numb. I try to take a breath but there’s something stuck in my throat. My head feels dizzy when I take a step forward. A scream breaks the silence. Mum.

  “No! Please, not him! No!” She screams desperately. Someone cries, I bet its Zarah. What will they do now that I’m gone? I slowly make my way through the crowd. It’s not a problem to walk; everybody moves and creates an aisle like I’m some kind of king. It’s just that I’m not. I’m the opposite to a king.

“Here we have our first tribute!” She says happily. A few people make an effort to clap but stop as soon as they realize its dead quiet.

  “Any volunteers?” She asks the silent crowd. Since this is a career district, we have at least one volunteer almost every time, but now, It’s as silent as space. “Please, someone volunteer, please” I think desperately, but no one steps forward. I slowly begin to shake as she walks over to the girls pool, carefully choosing a slip. She almost runs back to the microphone and unfolds it.

“Mimona Taylor” Regina calls. A small, red-haired girl with hazel eyes steps out of the crowd. Her eyes are glazed over with panic as she moves slowly towards the stage. Finally there, Regina drags her up.

“Do we have any volunteers?” She calls happily. Another red-haired girl steps out of the crowd. Her green eyes look paniced.

“I volunteer” She shrieks, staring at the girl on the stage. And it’s in that moment I realize, that the girl on the stage is her sister. She starts moving forward, and when she reaches the stage, she takes the girls hand and whisper something to her. A tear escapes her eye as Regina calls her up on the stage.

“Please give us a warm applause for this year’s tributes!” She calls, and this time, the crowd breaks into a small applause. I look over to my mum. She’s hugging Zarah tightly, tears streaming down her face. I bite the inside of my chin until it bleeds. I cannot cry. Not now, that would be a sign of weakness. I get to see a final glimpse of mum and Zarah before we are taken into the court house. It’s probably the last I’ll ever see of them.