The Celebrity Hunger Games

Chapter 6: District 6

Jay McGuiness’ p.o.v

I remember the day that he was picked. That morning we were at the lake skipping rocks and talking. “I’ll volunteer if you get picked” he said to me. I smiled at him. “I’ll volunteer if you get picked” I said back to him. We said this to each other before every reaping, but luckily neither of us had gotten picked. This reaping was different. We were the same age so we could stand together while we waited for the reapings to begin. My parents stood behind us, my older brother Luke and twin brother Tom by my side. I didn’t think that either of us would get picked. I didn’t think about the promise that we kept at the lake. “The male tribute is...Max George” the host said. He looked shocked but not scared. I think this was because he knew that I was going to volunteer. “Does anyone want to volunteer?” the host asked. There was silence. This was our plan, wait until everyone was hanging on with baited breath, and then volunteer to shock the crowd and create a performance. So I waited, and waited, and waited some more. The longer I waited, the harder it became for me to find the strength to volunteer. Then it was too late, the host was drawing the next name. “...Cher Lloyd” the host shouted. Max looked at me in disbelief. Then the host said their names again and they were taken away. I was glued to my TV screen for this series of the games. I watched Max’s every movement, watching as other people were killed in various different ways. Then it was just two people. Max and a tribute from District 1 called Harry Styles. Harry was good with a knife but because District one live in luxury; he didn’t have the upper hand that Max did of being made to hunt for his meals. So when it came to a battle between them, I felt confident that Max could win this, come back to the district, and forgive me for being such a coward. But then everything changed. Max was distracted, and Harry noticed this. Taking this advantage and killing him. The last time I had been myself.

“Max’s death was not your fault” my brother Luke said to me. I ignored his kind words; it was obvious that I caused Max’s death. But I was going to make it better; I was going to volunteer in today’s reaping. I was going to win the Hunger Games, for Max, and for myself.

“Last year we were so close. We remember Max George, who came second to District 1. So close is not close enough. We need a tribute that will learn from Max’s mistakes, and win the Hunger Games!” the host said. Everyone began to cheer. She stuck her hand in to reveal the name of the male tribute. “...Siva Kaneswaran” she said. The guy was older than me; I didn’t recognise him so I assumed he had left school. He looked too old to be able to compete in the Hunger Games. “Would anyone like to volunteer?” she called out. “I would” I said immediately. Siva looked at me in surprise as I made my way onto the stage. “And your name is?” the host asked. I took a deep breath. “Jay McGuiness” I said. “Thank you” I heard Siva say from behind me. I took his hand in mine and shook it. In another place, in another time, in another world, we probably would have been friends. But in this place, in this time, in this world, I probably won’t live long enough to speak to him again.

Taylor Swift’s p.o.v

“You look beautiful” my mum said, brushing my blond hair back into a braid. It was the day of the reapings; everyone had to be looking their best. “I’m not worried about you honey” my mum said once she had done. I looked at her in the mirror that had been placed in front of me. “What do you mean?” I asked her. She turned my chair around to face her. Close up I could see that she had tears in her eyes. “You were born a hunter” she said. She was right, I had been taught to hunt long before we realised that I wouldn’t need to. Our family was well respected; we were never short of food. We could survive. “The Hunger Games isn’t about hunting, it’s about winning” I said to her. She laughed at me. “The Hunger Games is about knowing how to survive” she said. I had no faith in myself, I couldn’t survive. Hopefully I wouldn’t get picked.

My mum had given me her best white dress for the occasion. My father had given me his wedding ring; he said it had kept him lucky all these years. I put it on a necklace as it was too big to go on my finger. This was my families was of saying that they supported me, and that they would be rooting for me if I was chosen.

As the first name was called and someone volunteered, I realised that I had seen the volunteer before; he used to hang out with the guy that had died last year. I had always wanted to apologise for his obvious loss, I had wanted to hug him and let him cry into my shoulder. Now it was too late. I could tell that this was why he had volunteered, because his friend had died. I couldn’t think of a reason that would make me volunteer for instant death. “And the female tribute is... Taylor Swift”. My parent’s good luck charms had prepared me for this. I remembered previous advice from my father. ‘Don’t let them see you cry’. But I wasn’t in danger of crying, I had been waiting for this. It was my time. As the other tribute and I shook hands I gave him a weak smile. He didn’t smile back.