Disclaimer: I am not a published author…or does FF.net counts as being a published author?
Percy’s POV
The world stop spinning. No sound could be heard. Everyone was shocked, sympathize or even don’t care.
I suddenly saw Prim move forward, her ducktail coming out again. No, she can’t go into the arena. I was just about to run forward, grab her hand, pull her from going to the front when the familiar dark braid suddenly came into view, rushed forward and pushed Prim behind her back.
“ I volunteer!” she shouted. “ I volunteer as tribute!” What?
There was a murmur among the crowds. District 12 hasn’t had any volunteer for who knows how long. The words tribute somewhat equals to the word corpse. So, yeah…no one ever volunteered. Until now.
“ Lovely!” says Effie Trinket. “ But I believe there’s a small matter in introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth, then we, um…,” she trails off, unsure of herself.
“ What does it matter?” says the mayor. There’s a pained expression on his face. He probably remembers Katniss as the girl who sells strawberries to him. “ What does it matter?” he said gruffly. “ Let her come forward.”
Prim was screaming hysterically now. I wanted to move forward, to hold her, to comfort her . “ No!” she screamed. “ No, Katniss! You can’t go!”
“ Prim, let go,” I hear Katniss said. “ Let go!”
I was about to move forward to pry Prim away when Gale beat me. He pulled her from Katniss and lifted her off the ground. “ Up you go, Catnip,” I hear Gale say. And then he carried the still screaming and thrashing girl towards Mrs. Everdeen.
I disentangled myself from the clump of the sixteen-year-olds and made my way towards them. Prim was sobbing into Mrs. Everdeen’s dress now. When she saw me, she let go of Mrs. Everdeen and held out her arms, wanting me to carry her. I did it. Partly because she was such in a pitiful state, partly because Addy used to do this too.
“ Don’t cry now,” I whispered into her ear. “ She’ll be alright.” She didn’t respond but by the way my shirt is getting wetter, I bet she’s gone into renewed sobs.
“ Well, bravo!” Effie Trinket gushes. “ That’s the spirit of the Games!” She’s pleased to have a district with a little drama in it. “ What’s your name?”
“ Katniss Everdeen,” she croaked, her face vacant.
“ Well, I bet my buttons that that was your sister, wasn’t it? Don’t want her to steal all the glory now, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause for our newest tribute!”
Nobody clapped. The square was as silent as a graveyard. Nobody wanted to, because this is all wrong. We don’t agree with it. And then, an unexpected thing happened. At first one, and then another, and then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hands to their lips and raised it to her. It’s a very old and rarely used gesture, occasionally used at funerals. As a sign of goodbye.
Katniss now looked as though she wanted to cry. I seriously hope she doesn’t because if she does, the other tributes will target her as weak. Right on cue, though, Haymitch staggers across the stage to congratulate her. “ Look at her! Look at this one!” he hollers. “ I like her!” his wild eyes scan the crowd. “ Lots of…” he thinks for the suitable word for a while, “ Spunk!” he says triumphantly. “ More than you!” he releases her and starts for the front of the stage. “ More than you!” he shouts, pointing directly at a camera.
Is he really mocking the Capitol? We’ll never know because just as he opens his mouth, he plummets of the stage and fell unconscious. He is later whisked on a stretcher and Effie Trinket is trying to get the ball rolling again.
“ What an exciting day!” she warbles as she tries to straighten her wig, which has listed severely to the right. “ But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our boy tribute!” She crosses to the glass ball that contains the boys’ name and pulled out a slip of paper.
“ Peeta Mellark!”
A stocky guy, roughly around sixteen with the merchant look with his blonde hair and medium height made his way to the stage. No…it’s now or never.
“ I volunteer!” Another round of gasp could be heard from the crowd. Uh…what did I just say? “ I volunteer as tribute.”
“ Oh, another volunteer!” Effie Trinket gushes out happily. Peeta looked at me, his eyes alarmed. “ Come on up here!” Effie calls out to me. “ Don’t be shy…,”
Prim was now shaking uncontrollably and my shirt is getting even more wet. “ I’m sorry,” I said to her gently as I put her down. “ I have to…”
“ No! Percy! Please!” she screamed as I walked to the stage. Peeta grabbed my arm, his eyes full of pity and gratitude. “ Percy!” Prim screamed again as I stood on the stage. I’m careful enough to turn off my mind, my emotions…
Katniss had a horrified look on her face but I ignored it. I didn’t want to be confused with my own decision. It’s the right thing to do. At least, I think so…
The mayor begins to read the long and dull Treaty of Treason as he does every year at this point – which is required – but I’m not listening to a word he is saying.
I just volunteered as tribute….
I just volunteered to be slaughtered….
The mayor finishes the dreary Treaty of Treason and motions for me and Katniss to shake hands. Hers were as soft and warm as when we accidentally touched when we were both going to tuck in Prim’s ducktail this morning. But I can sense fear and sadness at the touch too. Her hands were shaking.
We turn to face the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.
I hope the odds will be in my favour so that either of us will be killed by someone else. I don’t want to be the ending her life.
And I don’t think I’d appreciate it if she was the one to end mine…
Oh, well…there’ll be twenty-four of us..we’ll be fine…
