A Hunger Games Fan Fiction.

****Please Note that this fan fiction has nothing to do with Katniss or Peeta or their games. This is me taking the Hunger Games idea and adding my own perspective, characters, etc. Also I in no way own or am afflicted with the Hunger Games Series. ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS AND HER TEAM!********

The tall, pale green grass whipped around wildly as the warm Summer breeze swam through my golden blond hair.  Today was Reaping day and my nerves had put me on edge. I'm sixteen, which means my name is in the draw far too many times.

My stomach twisted into a series of knots and I felt my frail hands begin to quake with fear. I have had to watch friends, cousins and strangers die a brutal death over and over. Imagining the fear of the dead is enough to send me into a panic ridden abyss of horror.

"Ariana! You need to feed the livestock, stop day dreaming!" My mother shouted at me. I felt my self snap back into reality. Living in district ten, livestock is a priority. Every one owns some sort of animal.

In front of me was a herd of hungry lambs. They were enclosed in a weak, iron fence that had been weaved together by my grandfather fifty years ago.

I twisted my torso so I could see my mother.

''Sorry Ma, I'll get right on it." My mother had her curly flaming red hair in a french braid, she was wearing her best dress. A green silk one, the one my grandfather bought her. She was ready for the Reaping, I could never be. I could never be completely ready to either face my death or watch some one Else's.

I heaved the bucket of grain up off the ground. Digging my hand into the bucket and flicking fist fulls of food towards the Lambs seemed to relax me. I had been doing this job since I was four years old, it was second nature. I was able to just think, not over think things but just let my thoughts wander. It was blissful peace.

I wonder who will be subjected to the torture of the Games this year. Perhaps some one I am close to? I hope not. Maybe it will just be some one I have seen at the market or at school, some one I am able to let go of. Or even better, maybe it will be Heniah. The awful mean girl from school who enjoys humiliating me. I smiled at the thought, her and her prim and proper hair in the arena. She wouldn't last a minute.

My raw, chewed up nail hit the bottom of the bucket.

We're already out? The Lambs must be hungry.

I spun around on my heel towards our log house. It was small but large enough to fit My mother, grandfather, sister and I. My father left  when I was ten. He wanted to live in the city, the wealthy part of district ten, with some twenty year old rich lady. That was the most mortifying day of my life. No one is to do such thing, it made my family look sleazy. I shut him out of my life, he may only live half an hour away but he may as well live in the capitol.

I placed both my hands on the heavy door and pushed it open to reveal my family frantically preparing for the Reaping. My ten year old sister isn't eligible yet, but she likes to get dressed up any way. She was wearing a floral pink gown as my mother twisted her red frizzy tresses into a top knot.

"Lucinda, what on earth are you wearing?" I asked her as I barged in. The fireplace was lit as my stocky, grey haired grandfather added more wood to it. Lucinda and Ma were sitting at our table, near the ice box and stove. 

Lucinda looked up at me, her green eyes sparkling.

"Y-your dress. Mama said I could!" She shouted in her defense.

"Indoor voice Lucy." My grandfather said in his, thick raspy voice.

Lucinda nodded, but she was still worried about my anger.