Scarred | The Hunger Games

Prologue

Pre-Catching Fire - The 72nd Hunger Games Reaping

I hid my sister in the walls of our makeshift home, just like I did every time I went out to steal some food. Home. The walls I hid Ottiline in were just hollowed out trees, but her little 11-year-old frame could fit in it. The mountain of fallen leaves and branches layered that acted as the roof of our home were browning, but it helped us camouflage into the background.

"You stay in here and you don't come out until I come back. Don't come out until you hear 5 knocks on this tree, ok?" She nods as I apply a dot of the homemade paste I mixed with hackmanite onto her hand. It glows for about 12 hours before diminishing. "When this dot on your hand stops glowing, you come out, and make a plan. If I'm not back by time it stops glowing, I've been caught. Don't panic, don't cry, don't do anything impulsive. I taught you better than that."

Ottiline has heard this speech a thousand times before. Mum and Dad used to give the same speech to Otti and I before they died. And now I say the same thing to Otti every time I leave to steal food. We don't know how they died, but one day, they never came home. It happened when I was 9, Otti was only 6. They probably got shot by the peacekeepers, knowing them, they were probably rebelling. They rebelled by having Otti and I in secret, not registering our births. Snow doesn't know we exist. No one but us knows who we are.

Now I take care of my sister. She is my responsibility. So I keep her safe. "Be careful Eula." She says, grabbing my arm. I've always come back, but there's always this fear in her. "I will baby." I kiss the crown of her head.

I begin the trek to the centre of District Eight as the sun sets, our home was hidden within the outskirts of the district where it was less urbanised.

By time I get into the district, it was early morning, though the sun was yet to rise. The perfect timing. People were still sleepy, but stores were just open. I weave around people, pulling my hood closer over my face.

Quickly, I make it to a little bakery food stall, where I get most of the food from. The owner is always busy in the mornings, so he's an easy target. I walk past, making sure to 'accidentally' knock over a shelf of cakes and biscuits, before walking over to grab some loaves of bread.

"Hey! What are you doing!" Fuck. A peacekeeper. I run, trying to loose them in the crows by slipping past people. But I trip.

A peacekeeper pulled me up, holding me tightly by the shoulders. "The entire town complained about robberies, quite surprised they were telling the truth." Don't scream, don't fight, don't cry. Mum's words ran through my head. "What's your name?"

I say nothing. Don't tell them anything. You tell them something, you expose the whole family. If I tell them my name, they could find Ottiline. I have to protect her. "Alright kid, you're under arrest-"

The other peacekeeper interrupted, "The reaping's today, all 12-18s must be present. We can't arrest her until after the reaping." The reaping's today?!

The peacekeeper holding me asks, "How old are you kid?" I weigh my options. Be discovered as a unregistered kid and possibly be chosen to fight to the death, or be arrested and never see Ottiline again. "I'm 14." There's a better chance I slip through the crowd after the reaping.

They guide me to the reaping registration line, making sure I don't run away. "Next." This is about to get awkward. The woman pricks my finger, but no result comes up.

"You're not registered are you?" I shake my head, feigning fear. "My- my parents died when I was 2. My uncle- he looked after me, um, for a bit but he started getting drunk. I- I don't know, I'm sorry, I didn't know! He just sent me out for no reason today!"

She rolled my eyes at me, not caring about my sob story, just learning that I didn't know I was illegitimate. "Yeah, yeah, name and date of birth?"

"Novalie Tream. 31st of December." I gave her a fake name, and a fake birthday. Why would I give her my real name?

"Head on in with the 14s."

I walk in, a bunch of eyes glance at me before looking away, my presence not the most important thing they're thinking about right now.

A woman with straight, platinum white hair down to her ankles steps up to the microphone. Her skin was also unnaturally white, little gemstones and pearls decorating her eyes. "Happy Hunger Games, happy reaping! A new year for a new victor to join us!" Oh so this is the woman I hear people complaining about on the streets. She sort of swishes around her coral blue dress that poofs out ridiculously. "I'm VeVe Brew, the escort of District Eight for the 4th year!" Her personality is disgusting.

"Of course, ladies first." She flounces around, swinging her arms dramatically as she approaches the bowl on her left. She mixes around the papers in the bowl, before picking one out.

My name's in there, what 3 times? I'll be fine, there are kids with their names in there up to 12 times more than mine is. I won't get picked.

"Novalie Tream." Cool. Some other kid got picked. Can I go home now? Wait I haven't even stole any food yet. "Novalie Tream? Anyone see Novalie?" God this Novalie girl needs to pull herself together.

"Novalie Tream?"

Wait. Fuck, I'm Novalie Tream.