Broken - A Hunger Games Fan Fiction

This is the story of Tallulah, who is picked for the hunger games. Read her story to find out what happens. Don't forget to like and please comment.


5. Chapter 5


The next morning when I open my eyes, sun seeps in through the curtains, I hold my hand up to block out the sun. Still half asleep I pull the duvet up over my head and shut my eyes, but every time I close them I see the games, and i have to open them again to bring myself to reality.

A short sharp knock at the door means I have to stand up and unlock the door. A smiling face greets me.

“Morning sunshine” Danny says pushing past me and getting into my bed.

“Oi, Danny”

“What, my room’s being cleaned?”

“Oh, I guess it’s ok, I was just getting up anyway” I lie

I grab my clothes from the reaping and rush into the bathroom. They provided us with new clean clothes but these ones smell like home. I throw on the dress and pin up my hair. I grin into the mirror, but then remember.

I think of Lotta and everyone back home. The images flood my mind and I feel sick. The world starts to turn and I have to grab onto the sink to stop myself from falling over.



“We’re here!” he shouts

I open the door and push back the curtains. Sure enough the Capitol is in full view. I stare in awe at the architecture. As we pull into the station, crowds of people start to cheer. They scream as the catch sight of us, they nudge eachother and point in our direction. I duck down under the window sill, but just can’t resist the urge to have another peek. This time the crowds go wild, laughing and waving at us, like maniacs.

“We’ll have to face them sometime” Dannys says waving back at them.

“Yes, I just, well, I wish it wasn’t so soon”

He holds out his hand and together we walk out of the cabin.

Finnick is standing by the doors. Screams of the Capitol can be heard even inside the train.

“Ready Tallulah” Finnick asks

I look round wondering if I have forgotten anything, but who cares, even if I have, I won’t need it again in a few weeks.



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