The 4th Quarter Quell : A Hunger Games Story

Prologue : The Capitol

Alora Trivett had the day off of school. As any kid would be, she was excited. If possible, she was even more excited for the announcement of the next Quarter Quell. Her uncle worked as a Gamemaker, and though he wasn't the Head Gamemaker, he still had quite a bit of prestige. But he hadn't let a word slip to Alora about the Quarter Quell. He had just promised that it would be something Alora should be glad she was alive to see. So as soon as the television flicked on, Alora plonked down on the couch, refusing to tear her eyes from the screen.

Alora Trivett
President Snow stepped onto the stage. She was a smart but pretty young woman, around 30 years old. Light brown hair and dark blue eyes with pale skin and a few smart-looking freckles. She stepped up to the microphone. "Hello, citizens of Panem." As always, I responded with a gleeful wave, even though she couldn't see me. "You are watching the mandatory announcement of the 4th Quarter Quell, a celebration of 1 century of Hunger Games! Let us take a moment to honor all of our fallen tributes, and our victors, alive or dead." There is a moment of silence, and I can feel everyone bowing their heads respectfully. Maybe even shedding a tear for their favorite tributes and now-deceased victors. But I wasn't taking the time to be too sad. I could feel the excitement and adrenaline coursing through my veins. What is it, what is it, what is it? President Snow unfolded a piece of paper carefully, like how the escorts would do at the reaping. "As a reminder to the districts that they are all treated equally, and have their own battles as well as larger battles, we will hold a Hunger Games for each district, where the victors will be sent to the Hunger Games." With that, Cecilia Snow folded the piece of paper she was holding carefully and placed it into a wooden box on the stand next to her. "Thank you for listening, Panem," I nodded politely. "And happy Quarter Quell!" She looked directly into the camera. "And may the odds be ever in your favor." Then the screen flicked back to black. I applauded loudly. My parents came rushing in from their bedroom where they had been watching the television. "This is going to be an exciting year, Lora." My mother said, smoothing my hair and giving me a hug. I floundered out of her hug with a smile, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. With that my uncle rushed in, his chestnut hair a mess. "You saw the Quarter Quell announcement?" I nodded excitedly as my father stepped forward to embrace his brother. "Tell us everything!" I said, grabbing my uncle's wrist and tugging on his arm. I did this often as a child to get attention, and I still had to around my dad's family because they were all so tall, a trait that I had not inherited. He just smiles and sits on the couch next to me. My uncle was a great storyteller because he would make grand hand gestures, which he did now as he was describing the Quarter Quell.

"Each district will have 24 tributes, 12 girls and 12 boys. Those 12 tributes will be sent into their own Hunger Games with a shorter interview. The two last standing tributes will be sent to the final Hunger Games. The Hunger Games will go in order, starting with District 1, ending with District 12. Then, once we have 24 victors, they will be thrown into the final arena, and the last two standing tributes both get to come out of the arena, which we're actively working on. It's going to be very exciting."

"What are the arenas going to be like?" I asked, staring at my uncle. He smiled at me as he spoke.
"Now now Alora, I can't go ruining all the surprises for you!" I sent him a glare which made him chuckle, then he continued speaking. "I suppose I can tell you a bit. The first 12 Hunger Games will have a small arena, and they will all take place in the same arena, so the tributes aren't allowed to see any Hunger Games until they finish theirs. There won't be much in the Cornucopia, because we don't want these games lasting too long. The final arena... Well, I'll just say that it's unique."  I grinned.
"Is it as good as the clock?"
"I'll let you decide when you get to see it." I bounced up and down with a squeal of excitement.
"Act your age!" My mother scolded with a laugh. I shot her a smile with a glare. I thought I was behaving perfectly appropriately for an excited 13-year-old. 

As soon as my uncle left, I scurried into my room and marked days off on my calendar. It was only 29 days until the reaping! My uncle was right; I was glad to be alive to see these Hunger Games.