[OLD TITLE: The Peculiar Stranger]
Nathaniel Agustin, an ordinary teenage guy suddenly finds himself in a strange location and has met a group called 'The Covey'. How he got there, he had no idea. All he could remember was buying a prequel to The H...
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❲𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙊𝙒, 𝘿𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙏 12, 9:42 𝘼𝙈❳
"...Tomorrow's the reaping day," I muttered to myself, tracing the familiar lines of the book yet again. Was it the 9th time? Or maybe the 10th, or even the 11th? I'd lost count. Since I discovered this book under my pillow that day, it's made me question everything about reality. I still can't believe it's been a year already— a year since I found myself transported into this fictional world.
How do I know tomorrow's the reaping? Well, according to chapter 1 of this book, July 4th marks the day... and today's July 3rd.
The book in my hands is the same one I purchased back in my own world. It feels odd to phrase it that way, but yes, the book I paid ₱545.00 for is right here. So much has happened in the past year. The old man, afflicted with the black lung, passed away. I'm conflicted about it; he wasn't exactly kind, but he wasn't entirely bad either. He never cared for me much, nor did he favor the Covey, though perhaps he tolerated them more than me. They've since given me his room to sleep in, but it's not the same without him. Still, he kept his promise not to send me to the mines, instead having me help around the house—cleaning, cooking, and more. I've also been assisting the Covey with their performances, which has made me known among some citizens, especially the Peacekeepers who frequent the Hob.
They had countless questions for me, overwhelming me with their curiosity. How could I possibly answer where I came from, when my presence here is inexplicable? Thankfully, the old man, bless his heart, had prepared for this. I'm known as his estranged grandson, whose parents met tragic ends due to a train explosion in District 6. A letter from my father, found in a drawer, instructed me to live with my grandfather here in District 12. It's a somewhat believable story, enough to satisfy most.
Not all in District 12 are kind like those at the Hob; some regard me with judgmental eyes, their expressions wrinkling in disdain. Even certain shop owners refuse to serve me. At first, I attributed it to their wariness of strangers, but Maude Ivory explained that it's because of my association with the Covey. Though beloved at the Hob, they're viewed quite differently here—seen as outcasts, or even freaks. I reassured Maude Ivory that I'm unaffected by others' perceptions, including the Covey's notorious reputation, as she repeatedly apologized for our association.
Lost in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed someone take a seat beside me. "What are you reading there, sugar?" The newcomer's voice made me jump slightly as I turned to see Lucy Gray, chuckling softly. "Easy there, sugar, it's just little old me." She peered at the book in my hands. "That book again? Aren't you tired of reading it over and over?" Lucy Gray asked with an amused smile, squinting at the text.
