The Hazbin Hunger Games

Chapter 1:Hunting

When i wake up, the other side of my bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Charlie's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have, already woken up and went out for the day. Of course she did. This is the day of the reaping.

I prop myself up on one elbow. Wondering where exactly Charlie is at the moment. Charlie Always a little bundle of joy, her face is as fresh as a raindrop ,as strong as a leader... I was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me.

Sitting at the foot of the bed ,is the worlds strangest Cat, Charlie named her Kee-Kee insisting that we kept the poor soul. She hates me ,or at least distrusts me. Dont really know why an animal could hold such a grudge over me ,that thing has a mind of its own. Probably just because i didn't want to keep it in the first place.

I mean, The last thing i need right now is another mouth to feed. But Charlie begged so hard, cried even, i had to let her stay, it turned out okay, turns out that thing is a born and raised mouser.

I swing my legs off the bed and slide into my hunting boots. Supple leather that has molded to my feet. I pull on trousers, a shirt, fix my hair, and grab my forage bag. on the table , under a wooden bowl to protect it from hungry rats and cats alike, sits a perfect little goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves. Charlies gift to me for reaping day. I put the cheese carefully in my pocket as i slip outside.

Our part of District 12,Nicknamed Pride, its real name being the luxury district, which is kind of ironic, since its the poorest district. Its usually crawling with people trying to get to work to help support their lower class families. But today, the black cinder streets are empty. Shutters on the squat grey houses are closed. The reaping isn't until two. May as well sleep in. if you can.

our house is almost at the edge of Pride. I only have to pass a few gates to reach the scruffy field called the meadow. Separating the meadow from the woods, in fact all of district 12,is a high chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire loops.

In theory, its suppose to be electrified twenty-four hours a day as a deterrent to the predators that live in the woods-pack of wild dogs, lone cougars, bears-that used to threaten our streets. But since were lucky to get or three hours of electricity in the evenings, its usually safe to touch. Even so, I always take a moment to listen carefully for the hum that means the fence is live.

Right now, its silent as stone. Concealed by a clump of bushes, i flatten out my belly and slide under a two foot stretch that's been loose for years. There are several other weak spots in the fence, but this one is so close to home i almost always enter the woods here.

As soon as im in the trees, i retrieve a bow and sheath of arrows from a hollow log. Electrified or not, the fence has been successful at keeping the flesh-eaters out of district 12.inside the woods they roam freely, and there are added concerns like venomous snakes, rabid animals and no real paths to follow. But there's food if you know how to find it.

even though trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest penalties, more people would risk it if they had weapons, but most are not bold enough to venture out with just a knife.my bow is a rarity around here. Which is why i keep it well hidden in the woods, carefully wrapped in waterproof covers.

 most of the peace keepers turn a blind eye to few of us who hunt because they're as hungry for fresh meat as anybody is.in fact they're among our best customers.in the fall, a few brave souls sneak into the woods to harvest apples. But always in the sight of the meadow. Always close enough to run back to the safety of district 12 if trouble arises.

"District twelve. where you can starve to death, but in safety."

i mutter. then i glance quickly over my shoulder. Even here, even in the middle of nowhere, you worry someone might overhear you. Even at home, where i am less pleasant, i avoid discussing tricky topics like the reaping, or food shortages, or the hunger games. Charlie might begin to repeat my words, and then where would we be now?

In the woods waits the only person in district twelve with whom i can be myself around. Alastor....

WOOOOOO

 i wonder what's gonna happen next~ you read 800 words!