Greater Games [A 72nd Hunger Games Fanfic]

Chapter 1

Do you know that feeling you get in your stomach, every time you are wating to see results of something or when a name is being picked from a raffle?

I had that.

Only it wasn't anxiety from excitment. It was from fear.

I was 16 at the time of the 72nd annual Hunger Games. I never beleived that I would ever get picked for the Games, it seemed almost unreal. All TV shows do. It didn't seem like kids were actually killing each other, it all seemed like fake deaths acted out. It just didn't seem like it was actually happening. So I just couldn't imagine myself fighting to death with 23 other kids. I mean, me, out of 800 other girls from my district? Although technically it could happen.

And it did.

I was at the public reaping like every other girl. A Capitol lady who's name I somehow couldn't remember at that moment picked out of a big, glass jar, carrying the name of a kid that was about to be most likely slaughtered in about a week. It was like some raffle. That's what the Capitol tries to do. Make it seem like some big happy holiday. But we all know better.

And my heart stopped when the Capitol lady called out, "Amber!" Because that was me.

I hesitated for a moment, having multiple mini heart attacks. Then, slowly, I walked up to the platform that the Capitol Lady was standing on, smiling at me like I had just won a lifetime supply of good fortune.

That day was the day my life changed, and only at the age of 16.

~~~

"Here is your room!" exclaims the Capitol lady, who's name I had found out was Clytia, once we're on the train to the Capitol. She opens a very well polished door and inside is a big beautiful king-sized bed. A large dresser sits next to it and a fluffy green carpet covers the floor. I see a bathroom up ahead.

I look all around; in the bathroom there is a fancy shower with all sorts of buttons to push and handles to turn; in the drawer there are over 30 outfits, not to mention the 20 pajamas. I take out a tight cotton red shirt which feels very soft and thin grey sweatpants and bring it into the bathroom. I take a quick shower and change into the clothes I picked.

Once out of the bathroom, I flop down on my big, comfy, deep blue bed and process the last two hours. The reaping. The boy picked, a 13-year-old kid with dark brown hair named Shade. The change from hard-living to the finest living conditions in the world. And the thought that I was probably going to be dead within two weeks. That thought is giving me stress.

I eventually pick myself up and go into the pastry room, with little blue seats and tables for four. Clytia is sitting at her own little table, fixing her hair and eating small puffy biscuits. I don't see Shade. Probably in his room.

The smell of all the fresh pastries around me is overwhelming so I grab biscuits like the ones Clytia was eating, warm doughy bread rolls, and a cinnamon bun. I sit at the table with Clytia and stuff the good food into my mouth.

"Enjoying everything?" Clytia asks brightly. She smiles big at me and takes dainty bites into her biscuit.

"Yeah!" I say with my mouth full, my voice muffled. Clytia then purses her lips as crumbs fall down my chin.

The door to the bathroom slides and Shade walks in. His face is completely emotionless. He sits in the seat next to me but doesn't eat.

"You should eat, Shade, the food is good!" I say and grab another dish of pastries. Clytia is clearly disgusted by me pigging out on all the sweets. Shade, however, stays in his seat and keeps quiet. I then realize what it must be like for him and I feel guilty. Here I am hoarding all the food, too stupid to understand why I even have the priviledge of eating it. At least Shade understands. At least he understands his chances.

I become quiet and stop hoarding my food. Clytia gives me one last disgusted look and gives Shade a sympathetic one. But instead of lightening up more, he gets up and leaves the room. I finish my pastries with better manners and leave too.

One in my room, I realize that it has gotten dark outside. The clock reads 8:51. I change into PJs and climb into my bed. Pretty soon I realize that it's good that my sheets are thick, because the night is cold. I cuddle up into a ball and relax, despite my troubles. I fall asleep for about five minutes, dreaming that I jumped out of the train and ran back home. A high, shrill voice was calling, "Amber, darling! What are you doing?" Then I wake up.

I look up to see Clytia's florescent white dress and pink hair moving away from the window in my door. Pretty soon I realize that the voice in my dream was actually really calling me and it was Clytia's. Oh yeah. I forgot dinner. That's what she was calling me for. Oops. Whatever....

_ _ _

How did you guys like it? Comment answers! Sorry if it's short I didn''t realize how short it would end up when published... anyway chapter 2 is already up and chapter 3...well I'm getting there! This book is specially for all those who made the tributes for me. Don't worry, tribute-creators, they will be up in chapter 3! Happy reading :)