Deceived: The 500th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 2 - District 5 Reapings

WADE SHINOLA'S P.O.V

Spiking back my red mane and tightening my black bow, I eye myself in the mirror and sigh. Today is the day of the reapings for the first three Districts taking part in minigame one. I have to admit, I'm petrified. Then again, if you're a kid from Five with no training and a messed up hand, you're going to be petrified.

Walking into the living room, I lean in the doorway and look at the man I call my father. My dad was sat staring into space as per usual. Last year, my brother Axel was a tribute in the games; Axel was always the favourite amongst everyone and he was the best at everything. He was popular at school, the most loved sibling at home and the ladies loved him. Since his death, my father hasn't been the same.

Today being reaping day, he looked worse than ever. Daring to take a step into the room, I hold my breath and walk towards him. On cue, Dad drops the bottle of liquor he was holding and manages to throw up everywhere. Shaking my head and sighing, I walk to the kitchen and grab the only clean cloth available before rushing back to the fragile man.

It's nearly impossible to hold back my anger when I think about my dad. Wanting to scream at my dad, I bite my tongue and clench the cloth in my hand. It isn't my fault that I couldn't volunteer last year. I was on my deathbed. In fact, I had Peacekeepers in my house looking after me because I was so ill. We thought it was terminal. A charity was set up and after four months, I was taken to the Capitol. I am loved, but I bet if Axel was ill, he would've had the money in two months maximum.

Here I am now, treating my Dad's addictions because of my brother's death. Throwing the cloth at his face, I fight the urge I have to slap him. He makes me feel guilty about my brother every time I stepped into the house; if anything, he should be the one feeling the way I do; neither of us were capable of saving him.

"Y'know," he slurred, "this time last year your brother was here. He was a beautiful boy, he was." Saliva fell from his lips; his breath filled the air around us with a strong alcoholic smell. "You should've been there for him. It would've been better for everyone if Axel was still here and you had volunteered."

Gritting my teeth and picking up a vase, I know exactly what my arms are going to do. Using all my strength, I throw it in his direction and exhale loudly. He falls off the sofa into a pool of his own vomit, the vase clipping his shoulder as he descends. The vase smashes on the wall behind him; the glass flies through the air.

Several pieces of the vase pierce my dad's skin, causing him to yelp in pain. "You bastard!" Dad screams at me, trying to pull himself up. Slowly, he starts to rise, covered in sweat, blood and vomit. The bottle was in his hand again. As he approached me, the bottle he held was lifted above his head; he's going to replicate my moves.

It was time to take action; I sprint towards him and kick him in the gut. Hard. He slips in the vomit pool and crashes to the ground, knocking himself out as his head slams against the wooden floor. The noise is satisfaction to my ears, the sight before me is a piece of art, the beauty of self destruction.

Without turning back, I bolted out the door and to the towns square. I hope to god they pick me. Make my Dad feel guilty. Make everyone in the entire fricking District feel guilty. I guess you could call it a secret suicide. If I win, I'll get to live a life full of piece. Freedom. However, I think that's unlikely.

If I die, I'll still be happy. And so will everyone else.

GERANIUM KEENE'S P.O.V

I winced as the Peacekeeper gripped my finger and took the blood they needed from the tip of my index finger. They had to stab the needle into my finger four times, due to being unable to find the blood in my finger. By the time they were done, my finger was purple due to the little amount of blood remaining there. They really drained me of the blood that I so desperately need.