*Tyler Sheen's P.O.V.*
My reaping outfit hangs loosely over my skinny frame. If I'm reaped, I know I'm not coming home. I wouldn't want to, though. My parents are alchololics, you see. If I'm in the Games, sucicide or death seems like a great option.
I quietly sneak downstairs and run out towards the square. There are two sections: girls and boys. I get lost in the crowd of sixteen-year-olds and wait quietly for the escort, Phillup Marcett, to take the stage. He appears, wearing a clown-like suit with white polka dots.
"Hello, District 8! Let's start off today's reaping by picking our very lucky young lady!" He reaches a powder-blue hand in the bowl and picks one out from the very bottom. "Bobbie Weaver!" A tiny twelve-year-old makes her way to the stage, trembling. She's the daughter of the richest people in the District, yet donates all she has to charity. Phillup reaches a hand into the opposite bowl. "Tyler Sheen!"
*Bonnie Weaver's P.O.V.*
Oh, sweetie," my mom sobs, smoothing my hair and hugging me tightly. My daddy stands off to the side, looking lost. I reach out to him and he hugs me, too.
"I'll miss you guys," I whisper. I'd never hurt anyone, I have no chance at all in these games. Tyler and I are taken away to the Captiol train.
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Fatal Reality: The 800th Hunger Games
FanfictionWhat if Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were victors from different games and then fell in love, no Capitol-Defying done. Well, the Hunger Games would still be on! In the 800th Hunger Games, the Quarter Quell ticket is that the games...will be n...
