Storm: A Hunger Games Story {Book One of the Storm Trilogy}

PART ONE: The Games (One)

*BEFORE I BEGIN, THE HUNGER GAMES BELONGS TO SUZANNE COLLINS, ALL CREDIT GOES TO HER. SHE CREATED THE CONCEPT, THIS IS JUST MY VERSION! Enjoy!*

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   I winced as I pricked my finger with a needle. I found a bandage and kept going. I can't give up. Not now. Not when we need money.
    I close up shop with Trina and I feel the cool breeze on my face. This was a beautiful day for District Eight. The sun was out but the weather was still a bit chilly. I let the sun shine on my face for a moment. My green jacket is not one to stand out; it nearly clashes with the array of grays that paint my district. My district's industry is textiles. We never have a shortage of clothes, which is a blessing. While my district is just like any other- poor, polluted, full of peacekeepers- we have one thing some districts don't have. Victors. Well, not any more than districts one, two, and four. We have three victors. One is Woof, who never seems to know what's going on. Cecelia, who has two children. Wes Michaels is the most recent victor. He was in the games 2 years ago. He is eighteen and was sixteen when he was reaped. He's a star in the Capitol. Everyone loves him, almost as much as Finnick Odair. Although he is a great mentor, we don't exactly have the skills in 8 to win.
    I walked home, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. All they give me is pity. I don't need pity. I don't need anything from these people but I still make their clothes. I keep them warm. They won't die of the cold.
    I remember the feeling of walking back home from Trina's shop in the rain, the water soaking my clothes to my skin, the cold sinking all the way to my bones.
    I don't know what I would do without my brother Mason. He is my twin but we don't really look alike. He has light brown hair while I have dirty blonde hair. He's much taller than me and very strong. The only real similarity is that we both have brown eyes. He helps me through the worst times. When I feel like giving up, he comforts me. When I feel strong, he's right by my side.
    I walk inside my house after work and I open the cabinet to get my mother's medicine. We barely have much left. We can't buy any more, since we don't have the money. That's why I picked up extra shifts at the shop. I go to her room. It smells of sickness and must. My mother lies in her bed, her eyes shut. Her skin was pale and dark circles hung beneath her eyes. She was very sick. The doctor said there was no way to save her. In the meantime, she must take medication. Our money is running out. I get paid, my father gets paid, and Mason gets paid. I make the least out of all of us. My father makes the most but it's still not much.
    I give my mother her medicine and I go sit in my room. It's nearly 10:00. I need sleep. After all, tomorrow's the Reaping.
I wake up from a nightmare. A nightmare that will haunt me my whole life. I jolt up, beads of sweat clutching onto my forehead and my chest. With tears running down my face, I walk carefully to the bathroom, so I don't wake my family up. I rinse my face with cold water. I can't stand Reaping day. I hate fearing my name being picked. I hate fearing that Mason's name might be picked. I hate fearing that both of us will be picked.
    I decide to take a walk to clear my mind. I see many people preparing for the Reaping. I see the square, where peacekeepers and people from the Capitol are setting up a stage. I smell luxury. I can't stand the scent. It makes me want to vomit.
    I see my district's escort, Anastasia Emerald. She had dark skin and bright blue hair. She wore a blue dress that stopped at her knees. It was poofy with long lace sleeves. The dress was coated in sequins, and she wore a bright pink hat. Her shoes were tall and were the same color as her hat. Her face looked like it was altered. It didn't look human. Her cheekbones were extremely prominent and high. Her eyes were huge and dark maroon. Her lips were plump and coated with pink lipstick. Her nails were blue with diamonds on them. I walked away. I'd see enough of her at the reaping.
    As I walk in the house and smell the amazing breakfast my father was making, I hang up my jacket. There were two small, thin boxes on the table, one at my place setting and one at Mason's. They must be Reaping day gifts. I sit down at the table and breathe quietly. Mason comes in and sits as well. My mother was picking out our outfits so we were waiting to eat our food. We only have nice meals like this on special occasions, like birthdays and Reaping day. We had fruits that I bought at the market. We had toast and eggs that my father got as a present from a co-worker. We had butter that Mason got from his boss as a gift. Trina stopped by for a moment to give my mother some nice socks for the reaping. I gave her a hug and told her I would be in for work tomorrow.
    My mother came inside and slowly sat down at her seat.
    "We love you both so much." my mother tells us, letting a tear slip down her face.
    "Open your gifts." my father says with a smile. Everyone says I'm an exact replica of my father. We have the same color hair, eyes, and we have the same smile.  I open the box and inside is a picture. Mason has the same one. It's a picture of the four of us. I look up at Mason and my parents and smile. Mason and I thank our parents and we all begin to eat.