How odd this girl is.
Isn't she from 8?
She is? Then why is she like this?
Like how? Don't you see it? The monster hidden in the deep?
Well this might be fun.
(I know, not the type of title you expect for a Hunger Games fic, but I couldn't hold myse...
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District 8.
The 'capital' of clothing.
Creating magnificent and elaborate clothing.
From the simple, lovely fabrics of the districts to the brocades favored in the Capitol, District 8 makes it all.
From the youngest to the oldest, all work in cities of dark stone and grey dust.
They only had two victors still alive nowadays, Cecelia and Woof.
Due to district 8's urban environment, its people knew very little of the natural world, putting its tributes at a serious disadvantage in outdoor arenas and the Capitol more often then not threw woods, mountains and plains at the tributes, leaving them with little to no chance of ever making it out, plus they were a lower district.
No one really expected to win anymore, the mentors mostly being a final console in the dark times before their ends, a last light in a tunnel that would soon be covered with their own blood, more often then not... In the bloodbath itself... Many didn't even try anymore in exchange for fast deaths.
After Cecelia's victory they had given up on having a third ever victor but no one wanted a victor really, seeing the sadness in the victors' eyes day by day.
...
Well...
That was before an oddly named girl was born into the district's clutches.
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The streets were meant to be calm.
Again.
Were.
"Gah!" A strangled cough came, the sound of a body hitting the ground was heard.
Yet again an innocent being tormented by a peacekeeper... Well not exactly.
"I told you to stand." The man almost growled out. "How can you be so damned weak when the blood of 2 is in your veins! I asked you to do one simple thing!" He yelled and yelled, the girl wondered if one day he'd lose his voice and when that day would come.
She growled, tho it was from pain, gathering her limbs under herself, pushing up with one hand, the other on her stomach.
Young, so young, and yet the world's pain had already found its way into her heart, It is not her fault, she didn't ask to be born.
She wiped her mouth.
It is not her fault her mother got pregnant young and then got reaped at 18, leaving her in the hands of this repugnant man that might carry the weight of the awful title of grandfather at 43.
She pulled her hand off her body and swung but she stumbled, him stepping backwards and avoiding the left hook before driving a painful punch at her side.
Her little body bounced off the wall and fell down on the pavement.
"How many time have I told you to not do so much telegraphed movements?!" She covered her head as he threw, feeling the now cold soup and the pieces of veggies in it splatter on her. "Short rapid movements!!" He even threw the bowl against her, backing up to the door and entering, slamming it behind him.
She wanted to cry, she really did, and she did. Tears rolling down her face from the pain, from the words, from the hate.
She stood, knocking her fists on the door.
"Let me in. Please!" She begged. "I promise I will be better!"
A hand reached back out the opening door, shattering her hope by showing her in the chest.
"All you were asked to do is throw a correct punch, you don't deserve to come inside."
"B-but I'm hungry and it is getting late, please tomo--""There is no tomorrow! If you want food or shelter to need to get better!" He slammed the door closed.
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He watched the grain of the wood, the sobs the little girl tried to muffle broke his heart.
But he must do this.
There is no other.
He doesn't care how much she'll hate him, despise him... But this way she'll be strong, this way she'll be...
Tears.
Tears were what he shed each night.
"I am sorry." He whispered in the cold loneliness of the house. "I am sorry sweetheart but I can't love your daughter because she needs to survive if the time ever comes... I'll accept my punishment the day I die... For now know I blame myself enough for the two of us."
He'll make sure his granddaughter would survive anything thrown her way even if pain awaits him because of this choice.
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She stumbled through the streets with a slight limb, hurt because of fall.
Her shoulders feeling heavy as she hugged herself, cold wind snaking through her clothes and caressing her body.
She was still sniffling, maybe if she walked to school she could sleep in the little play cabin?
She let out a little scream, a rat running out in front of her and making her trip and fall on her ass.
She watched the rodent scurry around.
Both of them not that different from each other in the end.
