2nd generation Victors (A Hunger Games fanfic)

Chapter 1

The first thing I hear is the sound of the violin Rye insists on practising at 6am. Mom says that it sounds like her old cat, Buttercup, screaming and clawing. She's probably right. Turning out of bed lazily, I start banging on the wall we share. Soon, I am in his room. He smiles at me cheekily.

"If you don't stop playing that stupid violin, I'll take one of Mum's arrows to it and then stick it in Dad's oven at the bakery." I scream at him.

"Mom! Let me tell you what Willow said she'd do." Rye says stomping off to Moms room. Instead of following him, I head downstairs. I guess that Dad will be down there and making breakfast.

Once I get down, I soon realise what today is. I hear the cameras outside. The 25th Anniversary of the 75th Quarter Quell, or at least the start of it. Today, 25 years ago, was the day they announced the twist that it was to be previous victors who would compete. The next year was to be chaos. I see Dad.

"Whatever you do today, make a good impression. This is the first time that you will be remembered as a serious young person. In their eyes, you're not an innocent child anymore. Today will determine your future." Dad sternly warned me. This was the most serious I'd ever heard him. I knew he meant it.

"Have you any cheese scones?" He looked at me sternly and handed me over a plateful.

Soon, we are all ready to go, but Mom won't let us go yet.

"Meet me back here as soon as you can after getting out of school. And present these to your teachers once you get to school." She hands us an envelope. It has her cursive handwriting on and is addressed to Mrs Cartwright, my teacher. On the back she has wrote 12:13:12, which she does on most letters.

She opens the door. As planned, Dad goes outside first, smiling but having a look of remorse on this face. Then it's Rye and I. I look bored, as Mom said to me. Rye looks cheeky and happy, but he wants to walk off so I have to reign him in. Mom is behind us, and wearing orange. Cue the 'Girl on fire' remarks. She hates them, but I am being called 'Little Mockingjay' because I have a pin on. Luckily enough, schools only round the corner. I make it there and once through the gates am so happy my first outings over. But then I remember the rest.