Author's note: to be honest I'm not too fond of Author's notes but I thought I'd just say hello to my new Wattpad thingy whatever. It's a funny one, this story. It's a collection of short stories all inspired by or mentioned in the Hunger Games trilogy (which if you haven't read or seen I hope you do so in the near future). What I've done in this first chapter is introduce you to some of my original characters, Loyal, Sellien and Adira who are a family living around one hundred years after what has been named 'the Mockingjay War'. They are not a focus of the story and I think this will be the only time I mention them. This first story is by far the worst one I'm going to do. It's just an intro chapter really. Bare with me and may the odds be ever in your favour my fellow tributes.
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I tap my finger nails on the table, and stare out of the window at the darkness that is slowly filling the sky. I can hear Loyal, my husband, upstairs with Adria and trying to get her ready for bed. She's gabbling quickly on and on about her day at school; Loyal is trying to keep her from noticing that she's being washed and dried so she's ready for bed.
When I hear him say, "Mommy will be up in a second sweetheart" I stand and shrug my shoulders to relax the muscles that have been slumped in my sitting position for so long.
I hear Loyal's footsteps on the wooden steps and then I see his long legs and then his blonde head. He smiles "she's all tucked in; you just need to read to her now. She should be off to sleep any moment. She's had a very busy day"
I smile "I've heard" I go to kiss his cheek and then move past him to the side-table.
I pick up the most battered and old book I have ever possessed. It is bound in simple brown leather that has been scratched and worn down so that it has lost its original shine. I brush dust and bits of wood off it. There are bits of paper poking out from where their brothers lie. Loyal comes to stand next to me and wraps his arms around my shoulders "do you think she's ready?"
I nod and smile, even though he can't see, "it's just the extra bits of what school hasn't already taught her after-all." I say, smoothing over a corner that has been squashed down over time
Loyal shrugs "maybe she won't want to know."
"They're just stories Loyal, even if they're true. I think she should know I don't have to tell her that they actually happened."
"She's a bright girl Sellien, she knows about the Hunger Games, she knows about the Capitol and the Districts and she knows about the Mockingjay. I'd bet on it that she'll figure out where these 'stories' come from before you even finish the first one" said Loyal into my ear, gently rocking me from side to side.
I release myself "and if she's bright enough then she'll want to know and if she isn't then she'll never know any better OK? It's her family's story Loyal"
Loyal pauses for a second, his mouth half open as if he's going to say something to stop me. But then he shuts it and nods silently. I smile at him; the book clutched to my chest, I start to walk up the stairs. I can feel his eyes on my back as I do so but then I'm on the landing and out of sight.
Adira's room is the most comfortable and beautiful room in the house. From her window you can see all the way across to the south fields and down into our garden. Her bed is pushed right into one corner to make room for her chest of drawers and her wooden box of equally wooden toys. She's sat in bed now, her rosy cheeks ever rosier under the glow of the lamp and her blonde hair is in waves down her neck and past the duvet cover. She looks up at me as I enter and shut the door behind me. "Are we going to read a story tonight Mommy?" She asks
I hold up the worn book and she sits up slightly on her pillow "are they fairy stories?"
I shake my head and sit down on the bed next to her, spreading out my long skirt over my knees "they're all kinds of stories Adira, there are scary stories, happy stories, stories about people fall in love and stories about little people, just like you!" I tickle her belly through the duvet cover and she squirms
