The Tribute's Daughter

When the tributes from District 8 are chosen for the 75th Hunger Games, Cecelia leaves behind three children. This is the story of her oldest daughter Jennetta.

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3. The Game Begins

       We settled in with Aunt Meldy, and if there were nights where none of us could hold back the tears, well we didn't talk about those. Aunt Meldy explained that most people believed President Snow, and the Capital had somehow rigged the Quarter Quell rules so they could s\teach Katniss a lesson.

     Today was the day we were all dreading, the start of the seventy-fifth Hunger Games. I held out some hope for my mom, after seeing some of the other tributes. Surprisingly there was even a woman older the Woof. We watched the games start up, just Aunt Meldy, Coraz, and me. We had decided that regardless of the outcome the younger ones didn't need to see this.

     The Games started and as always the tributes waited in the center of arena, I watched a tear slid down my moms face as the game began. Unlike previous years there wasn't as much blood shed.

     I cringed when I say old Woof killed, but kept my hopes that my mom would make it. Those hopes however were soon dashed, as she too fell. I could hear someone screaming, but couldn't force myself to care. It felt like my insides were being ripped out. I didn't know how I was going to go on. I'd lost so much in the last few months I wasn't sure I could manage another loss.

    Only when Coraz knelt in front of me and began talking soothingly, like you would talk to a wild animal, did I realize the screaming was coming from me. As soon as I made that realization, I could feel the fire in my throat from the fierceness of my screams, and the wetness of my tears soaking my face.

     "It'll be okay," he said "We'll make them pay. I promise!"

      I tried hard to pull myself together, I knew I was wallowing but I couldn't make myself care. It wasn't until the next day that I dragged my self begrudgingly out of my depression, I don't think I could've managed normally, but I wanted to be the one to tell Lizbay, and Johnny.

     When I left my room, which we all shared in the back of Aunt Meldy's quilt shop, I could hear arguing. For the first time in more then twenty four hours I felt something other then despair, I was curious.

     I inched my way forward and listened. . .

     "What were you thinking, Pelsty, you could've been caught. What you did was reckless." I could hear Coraz saying

     "I'm sorry, but at least I was doing something," a male voice responded.

     "We all agree that something must be done, but we have to go about it carefully. We don't want anymore useless death," Coraz said.

     "If it came to that my death wouldn't be useless," the boy he called Pelsty said. "I would die showing the Capital that they don't own us. We're not merely their playthings to do with what they will,"

     "We will, I promise you we will, but we can't just go around stealing Peacekeeper uniforms at a whim." I heard Aunt Meldy chime in. "If they realize they're missing it'll mean more death, and it might not be yours. It could be a stranger, or your neighbor, or someone closer. You should know by now that the Peacekeepers don't discriminate on who they kill,"

     "I know, I'm sorry, but I wanted to do something!" Pelsty said venomously.

     "Just be patient, we're going out on another tagging mission tonight." Coraz said. "We're going to hit the Justice Building for the next two nights. The vandalism should direct the Peacekeepers attention there, and away from the Communications Center. That's where we're going to hit them hard."

      At this point I had heard enough to understand that all of these people, including Coraz and my aunt were part of the upraising. I understood more now about why people fought back, where as before it was just something that was happening. This was about showing them that while they could dictate our lives, they couldn't control them. There was always a choice, even with a gun held to your head you could still choose the bullet.
     "Count me in," I said stepping out from behind the door. When someone takes away everything you have to live for, it in turn gives you something you're willing to die for. For me it was revenge!

 

 

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