The Hogwarts Games (First Draft)

Chapter 1 - Acceptance

Chapter 1 - Acceptance

My home is dying. Not just mine but the home of many others. North America has been dragged into an apocalyptic state because of the wrong choices made by man. Whats grown from that is now Panem. At least that's what the people back at Capitol told us. Capitol was the far-off city that rules like a dictatorial government. They had us in their menacing clutches and Panem's President Snow has something called The Hunger Games to prove it.  

Panem has been split into twelve districts - each district had it's own industry. I belonged in District Twelve where we specialised in coal mining. Fun, right? Yeah, it really isn't. You have no idea how many people fall injured or even dead because of mining incidents. Some of them were my friends or relatives. Anyways, two teenagers - a boy and a girl - from every district were chosen to compete in the annual Hunger Games. The people chosen - or to use the technical term: reaped - were called tributes. It was horrible because every moment was televised. It was the Capitol's way of saying: "Look at what we can do to your children. You're under our spell."  

Today was the day of the reaping, I got up and left the house for a walk. The tributes were hand picked by someone from the Capitol and the names were kept in a glass ball. Your name starts getting dropped in when you turn twelve - where your name is entered once. At thirteen, it's entered twice and fourteen, three times. This continues until you're eighteen and your name is in the reaping ball seven times. But for the poorer families, we take something called tessarae where we put our name in more times than usual in exchange for a year's supply of grain, meat and other necessities for one person. As an eleven-year-old girl, I haven't had the need to do so but I dread my next year. I'll definitely take tessarae to help my family. One of my friends had to do that. She's sixteen already but in the reaping ball are twenty sheets of paper that read "Katniss Everdeen" in neat writing. I fear for her.  

I heard my mother's voice in the distance. She was a tailor, always making outfits and protective gear for the miners. Most of the people who live in our side of District Twelve - nicknamed the Seam - could afford the expensive stuff from District Eight. I helped her make clothes to those who could afford them.  

"Missy!" the incessant voice of my mother repeatedly called.  

"Yeah, I'm coming." I replied, annoyed. I tried to escape from work but they needed me. I usually would go out into the forest for gathering berries and hunting. Sounds crazy, I know but you'd be surprised with what I could do with a blade. Plus there have been some crazy things that help me with my hunting. One time I tried to jump so I could try and reach for a cluster of berries and for some reason, I end up being on the treetops. That helped get me more birds for dinner. It was all so confusing. I sheathed my daggers: five-inch steel throwing knives that I received from my deceased dad.  

I followed the voice of my mother back to our home. Like I said, my home was dying. The house that we lived in was a run-down cottage. The cement that made our walls was crumbling away like dust. My twin brother was supposed to be head of the household and acted like it when it suited him but really I'm the one in charge. My mother was far too busy with her work because of all the kids dragged into poverty without any means of keeping themselves presentable. So I was the one out hunting, gathering, and fishing sometimes when the tide allows it and I cooked the food that kept them alive. My ingrate of a brother doesn't understand the gravity of the situation. Katniss helps look out for our family. She's going through the same thing. She and I both know that if the Peacekeepers from Capitol found out about the state our families were in we'd be thrown in community homes. Normally, people would think that community homes were something to welcome but we've seen the kids coming out of that place. Their faces were scarred, arms bruised and their eyes filled with a pain that I see in the animals I hunt when they realise that they were taking their last breaths. Katniss has a little sister called Primrose - or Prim for short. Adorable thing. Everyone's fond of her. She was a year older than me but no one could guess that at a glance. My brother and I got our dad's height. Plus, I had to grow up at light speed so that my family wouldn't suffer. Because everyone was fond of her, Prim was well taken care of by the district. By Katniss especially. My brother, on the other hand, is lucky to be alive. He's not an entirely hopeless case because he can go out and help me hunt every now and then. Still a nuisance though. The only form of hope I have left is this little puffball I call Skye. He's a Pygmy Puff, a miniature puffskein - or so my mother told me. Along with my daggers, and the responsibility of the Crawford family, my dad left him to me before he died. On my way home, I stop and see Katniss, who was carrying an armful of fresh game. She's madly skilled with a bow and arrow. Her hunting partner, Gale Hawthorn, is pretty swift with a bow and arrow too but Katniss is golden. She throws me a squirrel - meat for dinner - and I grinned.