The 66th Hunger Games

66 years ago, the 13 districts of Panem rebelled against the oppressive Capitol, and failed. In order to keep the remaining 12 districts in check, the Capitol devised a new way to control them. Each year, one male and one female between the ages of 12 and 18 shall be offered up to compete in a sporting event known as the Hunger games, where they shall fight to the death until one remains, a victor that' be revered as a celebrity in the Capitol and live a life of luxury.

66 years later, the tradition still goes strong. See through the eyes of 15 year old District 3 tribute Elektra Sparke as she enters this deadly game. However, the one person she never thought would be her fellow competitor is, and she takes it upon herself to protect him. However, in a deadly arena where your death is in every direction, nobody can be trusted.


3. Revived Bonds

I sit there, fiddling with the curtain. I can't stop thinking about the name on the paper. Rose. My best friend's name was supposed to be read out by the flamboyant Rory, not mine.

Then another thought occurs. If she was called out, would I have volunteered? Or would I have turned a blind eye, like every other person? I probably would have volunteered, probably, I tell myself.

Suddenly, the door opens. It's my mother, face glimmering with tears. She sits next to me, and plays with my hair. She has never been this destroyed, not since we lost my father and Lucinda.

I still remember that day clearly. We were visiting my father at the factory, and Lucinda, my older sister, had gone to the bathroom. My parents were discussing usual things, such as how much my father would earn that month. I soon zoned out, instead fascinated by all the computers moving by on the assembly line.

When I returned to my parents, they were in a heated argument about how my father suggested Lucinda should take out Tesserae. In a fit of rage, he poured some liquid over the control panel, and the entire factory burst into flames.

One of his co-workers managed to drag us from the blaze, before the factory exploded in a flaming cloud of smoke. We barely had time to register what had happened before the Peacekeepers arrived, armed with rifles.

They threw me and my mother out of the way, kicking us both, before advancing on my father. They shot him, several times in the head, before throwing his body onto the burning pile of rubble.

His face, black and bloody, melting in the fire, still haunts me to this day. As do my mother's desperate screams for Lucinda, who perished in the initial explosion.

After the horrendous ordeal, my mother was imprisoned, and I was taken to the Community home. Broken, and terrified, is it any wonder I was quick to become protective of those even more vulnerable than me?

My mother finally speaks. "Elektra, you have to win. I don't want to lose you, too." I realise what she means. I am the only thing she really has. But we both know that my chances of winning are almost non-existent. But I don't want to shatter the small glimmer of hope she is clinging onto so dearly.
"I'll try. For you, and Lucinda." I say instead, holding the pendant.
"That's my girl, always a fighter," she says, tears beginning to flow.

We then hug for what feels like forever, yet not long enough at the same time, until the Peacekeepers come in, telling her time is up. She kisses my forehead, and leaves.

I'm left alone for what seems to be only a second, when Rose walks in. She looks a wreck, even more so than my mother. She sits next to me, and breaks down.
"Elektra..." she whimpers.
"Yes?" I reply.
"Elektra, I saw..." Her voice trails to a faint whisper "I saw the slip." She covers her face with her hands, shuddering. So she knows.

"Well, even if you did get reaped, I would have volunteered right away," I say in a voice I'm struggling to keep steady.
"You would have really volunteered for me?" She asks, barely above a whisper.
"Yes, I would have," I say, and she suddenly hugs me, before the Peacekeepers escort me out. She turns to me one last time.
"Good luck!" She yells, desperate for the message to be heard as the door shuts.

I'm alone again, only this time, nobody else will come. However, the time with Rose has seemed to clear my head. I begin to think about what I will do in the Games, only now, I can actually think. I assess my current skills. I'm good with wiring and circuitry, but the chances of there being any electronics, besides the Cornucopia mines, are slim to none.

The Cornucopia. Every single Games, there is always a bloodbath. The Gamemakers usually set out the equipment in such a way that the thing you think you'll survive the longest with is placed close to the mouth of the golden horn, to ensure that at least some Tributes will not be able to resist temptation. The smarter tributes only grab the nearest thing, if that, and run. Usually, the bloodbath participants are the Careers, the powerhouse Tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4, those who are too slow to flee the scene, and those poor Tributes that actually think they can stand a chance. I've already made it up in my mind that I won't be sticking around long after the Games begin.

My thoughts suddenly shift to Samuel. What if he tries to risk the Cornucopia? No, I can't get attached to him. He probably won't last long anyway. I just have to completely desensitise myself from him before the Games.

The sound of the door opening brings me back to my senses. Two Peacekeepers are there, it's time to go. I walk over to them, and they lead me around to the back of the Justice Building, and shove me in a car.

The ride to the train station only takes twenty minutes, and as we pull in, I notice the cameras.

They are swarming the station, desperate to catch as much footage of me as possible. I glance at one of the screens on the nearest building, and see my expression seems almost indifferent to all this, which suits me fine.

When we pull up, the car is swarmed by film crews. They only retreat when the Peacekeepers cut a path through the people for me up to the train. As I walk, I am almost blinded by flashing cameras. I can already see myself on the cover of some ridiculous Capitol magazine.

I finally board the train, to see Samuel sitting at a rich looking table, sobbing his heart out, with our mentors for the Games, Beetee and Wiress.

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