The Hunger Games (A One Direction Fanfiction)

I make my way back to my room. I half expect to lay awake all night fretting, letting in all the emotions that have been strangely absent so far, but when I lie down, I’m out almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I’ve always been a surprisingly good sleeper. I wake easily, but I can stay in that twilight place between dreams and reality for as long as I want. In the morning, I choose to stay and try to relive all my happy memories of childhood.

In fact, I don’t even get out of bed until well past noon, when our train arrives at the Capitol. I feel sluggish, and slightly sick to my stomach with fear. This is it. I am now officially a tribute in the Hunger Games.

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2. Chapter 2

Ina's POV

We are whisked away to the Justice Building to say our final goodbyes.

I am placed in a dusty room that has an air of once being grand, and told to wait. Time passes, no more than a few minutes, but to me it feels like an eternity. Perhaps even more than that.

I study the intricate floral wallpaper to distract myself. I cant decide whether I like it or not; giant green and pink roses make a chain on a yellow striped background. It’s very Capitol, and very loud. I like bright colors though, and I don’t think that there are enough of them in the District.

Finally, the door opens, and Anya comes in. Her face is whiter than paper, and I know why. She thinks that this is a death sentence for me, and I’m if half a mind to agree with her. I can't blame her for not volunteering for me, though. Any ordinary person would be too frightened to risk their life to save someone else's. Tributes from District One can win, but there is still a long, hard road to becoming a victor. We have had three in the past twenty-five years. Dean, who one the first games, some guy who won the tenth and hung himself a few months after coming home, and the winner from last year, Hannah.

Anya yanks me into a tight hug. We sit there, side-by-side, holding each other for a long time, before she pulls back. She’s crying. I’m not- still too shocked, I guess.

“You can do it, Ina. You can, I know it.” her grey eyes look like a lake because they’re so watery. She raises her hand and presses it to my cheek.

I take a deep breath and try not to look as worried as I feel, “I’ll try, Anya. I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

I can see it in her eyes that that’s not what she was talking about, being alone. She just doesn't want her baby sister to die. It’s always been this way, her looking after me and taking care of me, even though she is only a year older than me. Our mother died when I was a baby, and our dad was executed for trying to escape the District, and ever since then, Anya has been the one who tucked me in at night and made sure I had enough to eat and comforted me when the nightmares made me wake up screaming. She is the only family I have ever really known.

Something that I haven’t told anybody, and that kind of scares me, is that I can’t even really remember what our dad looked like anymore. Whenever I try to call his face to mind, the only one that I can see is Hanna’s wavy brown hair, tanned skin, and wide, grey eyes, just like mine. People ask us if we’re twins a lot. Anya likes to say yes, and then smile behind her hand because she always gets kicks out of outsmarting other people.

Thinking about our parents reminds me. I reach up and slip my locket off of my neck and hand it to her. Anya looks surprised, but takes it. It’s old and beaten, but it is the only thing that I have that belonged to my mother. Wearing helps remind me that she was real. Some of the other children make fun of me, saying that it’s childish and stupid, but I don’t care.

“I don’t want it to get lost in the arena,” I whisper. I wish I could keep it, but I want some ghost of our family to remain behind to keep Anya company if I die, which is an all too likely outcome.

My sister closes her fingers over the tarnished piece of silver and nods like she understands. Then she reaches into her pocket and pulls out Trent.

Trent is a small wooden bird that we've had ever since we were very small. District One is prosperous compared to the other districts, but we still had no money to spare for toys, so our father carved things for us to play with. Anya's favorite was always Trent. She loves birds.

She hands the little bird to me, “Have it is as your token. For good luck.”

Good luck. Maybe its better that I take this, because I am going to need all the luck I can get.

“I will need more than luck to beat someone like Frazer,” I mutter darkly, stroking the detailed feathers on Trent's wooden back.

A strange look flits over my sister’s face, but it’s gone before I can identify it, “Yeah…hey, listen, I think you should team up with her-”

A Peacekeeper comes into the room and pulls Anya away. She clings to me for a moment, and then lets go reluctantly. 

“I’m not saying goodbye, because you are coming home, Ina!” she practically screams at me, “I love you!”

My returned sentiments are cut off as the door is closed with a sharp snap.

I lean back against the couch, thinking that Anya would be my only visitor. I have no other family, and no close friends. Anya is the popular one, the one who was good at making people like her. I was always content to bask in her glow.

I trace the pattern that has been embossed on the velvet couch. It was such a pretty thing, but the sight of it filled me with unease. So many goodbyes had been said on this couch. So many kids’ last hugs with their parents had been here. That thought is enough to get me on my feet, pacing.

The door opens again to admit another visitor. This time, it is the mayor of District One.

I fall still in my pacing, surprised. The mayor just stands there, looking rather awkward. I always thought of him as a cold man, and distant, but now he has a strange mixture of relief and sadness on his long, angular face.

After a long pause, I speak first, “Why are you here?”

The words come out more hostile than I intended, but at the moment, manners are the last thing on my mind. Still, though, this is the mayor. What if he punishes Anya for my rudeness? That is enough to make me tag a sir to the end of my sentence.

He clears his thought, seeming unsure of how to reply.

“I came to congratulate you, I suppose.” his tone is surprisingly sardonic and unhappy. I would have though that as a minor government official, he would be pleased with the twist in the reaping today. There is a long, drawn out pause, “And to apologize. My niece was the girl whose name was called before yours.”

“So…what?”

The mayor sighs. 

“I think you are a much fiercer competitor. You will make District One proud.” he says with conviction, and I know that he means it. He leaves, and I am left alone with my thoughts once again.

This time, I don’t have to wait long before another peacekeeper comes to escort me to the tribute train. Frazer is waving jauntily to the crowd, but I feel sick to my stomach. This could be the last time that I ever see my home. This could be the last time I ever see the faces that have surrounded me my entire life.

I see Anya, and somehow, her horrified, worried look helps to calm me down, helps me find my focus. I refuse to let this be the last time I see this place. I refuse to be beaten by my competition. I refuse to die alone in the arena. I stand up straighter and plaster a smile on my face that must look slightly unhinged. Frazer and I stand side by side, letting the cameras absorb our faces, and then we are led onto the train.

District One makes luxury items for the Capitol, so it isn’t like I haven’t seen gems and fine clothe before. But it was the first time I had seen so much of it together in one place. The effect was overwhelming.

A Capitol attendant shows me to my room. It’s nice, but very cold and impersonal. I sit on the edge of the wide bed, and let out a little sigh. It is the softest thing I have ever felt. I lean back against the feathery pillows, letting them ensconce my upper body like a heap of clouds.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I know, another Capitol person is shaking me awake, telling me that it’s time for dinner. I stand and follow him out to the dining room.

The food is colorful and fabulous and strange. There is some sort of thick, black stew, bread with a baked layer of cheese and some sort of sliced green pepper on top, and dozens of different kinds of fruit, none of which I recognize.

I pluck a tear shaped pink thing out of the fruit bowl and take a cautious bite. It’s sweet and tangy. I lick the juice that is beginning to dribble down my wrist, and tune into the conversation.

Tina, Hannah, and Dean are all glaring at Frazer. I hardly have time to wonder what he did before my question is answered.

Frazer crosses his arms over his chest, “Look, I know that it’s your job to mentor me, but I am the going into the arena this time, so I’m going to do things my way.”

“Oh, are we not following the rules?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. 

Hannah sighs but doesn’t say anything. Her wide green eyes and wavy blonde hair make her a striking figure. Hard to believe she is only seventeen; she has a sense of ancientness to her, as though she has seen far too much in her young life.

Tina steers the conversation away before tempers can get too out of hand. I think she noticed that Dean's eyes keep flickering back and forth between the jam knife and Frazer. She starts blabbing about the wonders of the Capitol, and I tune her out, concentrating on the food.  The pepper-cheese bread is amazing, and I devour four pieces of it in under a minute.

Frazer nudges my leg under the table, and gestures subtly at a bottle of liquid on the table. I fight the urge to flinch away, remembering what Anya said about wanting me to team up with her. I pour myself a glass and take a sip. Its thin and light, like drinking sunshine. It looks like sunshine, too, a bubbly golden substance.

After dinner, we watch the recaps of the reapings. Frazer is the first face to appear. Then I am reaped, and I notice that they cut out the part with Amelia. They jump to District Two. A petite girl with brown hair and huge hazel eyes volunteers, as does a tall boy with a tall quiff of dark hair and brown eyes. It seems that District One weren’t the only people to come up with that plan. District Three reaps a tremulous girl with prominent front teeth, and a fierce-looking boy with cold, dark eyes. I can’t help but be a little but stunned. The boy is absolutely beautiful, with his golden skin and brown fringe. Few other tributes really stick out to me. The girl from five is very shy looking, but her brown eyes gleam with a sly intelligence. My heart clenches as a tiny twelve-year-old girl is reaped from District Eight. She has obviously tried to control her wild mane of red curls, but they seem to have a mind of their own. The boy from nine sends chills down my spine. Something in his face is unnerving, like he would kill someone just for annoying him. After that, I just can’t watch anymore. When it’s over, I leave without saying goodnight.

I make my way back to my room. I half expect to lay awake all night fretting, letting in all the emotions that have been strangely absent so far, but when I lie down, I’m out almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I’ve always been a surprisingly good sleeper. I wake easily, but I can stay in that twilight place between dreams and reality for as long as I want. In the morning, I choose to stay and try to relive all my happy memories of childhood.

In fact, I don’t even get out of bed until well past noon, when our train arrives at the Capitol. I feel sluggish, and slightly sick to my stomach with fear. This is it. I am now officially a tribute in the Hunger Games.

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