Happy 125th Hunger Games!

“Is that the way you’re going to fight at the Games!? You won’t even make it past the bloodbath! Faster!” I heard my brother scream into my ear as I slashed away at dummies with my spear. I tossed it aside and grabbed a knife which I threw at one of their heads. I leapt across a mound of dummies and stabbed one through the chest. I heard a few claps and turned to look at my brother who was 21 and too old for the games. He was tall with coal black hair just like mine. He had green eyes though while I had light blue eyes. He gave me a small smile and said,

“That was good, but you’re going to have to do better if you want to win.” I just laughed at him. I’ve been training since I was 6 and with 12 years of training under my belt I would say I have a high chance of survival. I tossed him the knife and he caught it with ease, not even flinching.

“Are you ready for this Ronan? Ready to make our family proud and join the winners of the Hunger Games?” He asked solemnly and I nodded thinking about how happy they will all be. How happy they better be. I ran my hand through my hair as he patted me on the back and walked back towards the house. Ever since I could remember he was always the father figure. Even though he is only 3 years older than me. When my father started drinking Noah was always the one who would save me from a beating. And when he couldn’t get me out of the room fast enough he would always take the pain for me. I’m not going to be winning this for my aunts, uncles, my mom, or dad. I’ll be winning this for Noah, to show him that what he did for me mattered and to thank him with a life of luxury that he never had. We aren’t poor, we live in District 4, we are important, but our father spent a large portion of our money on alcohol. Getting away from him would be the happiest day of my life.

I followed after Noah and slipped inside the house. I jogged up to my room and grabbed a nice black sweater and dress pants and changed quickly. As I walked downstairs I caught a whiff of my favorite smell, bacon. I picked up my pace and when I got to the kitchen a pleasant surprise caught my eyes. Bacon, eggs and filets of flounder were on my plate. I smiled at my mom who rarely did nice things for me. The last time she did something this nice was on reaping day when I was 12. I see a connection here…

I went over and pecked her on the cheek and she smiled at me, her chestnut hair falling into her eyes. She was once pretty, before she had 3 children, one of them dying, and a crazed drunk husband who spent all of their money on alcohol. I felt a pang of pity for her but decided to focus on my food.

As I started scarfing it down, Noah walked into the kitchen with a comb and brushed my hair. I didn’t protest as Noah was always on top of things. Come to think of it, I had forgotten to brush my hair. I smiled at him, face full of food and he chuckled.

I finished up in record time and thanked my mom. I called Noah with me and we went outside. I knew I wouldn’t have much time with him in the waiting room so I wanted to get my goodbyes done now.

“Look, Noah. If I don’t get back alive, which is highly unlikely, but there is always that chance, I want you to take mom away from the house. Or kick dad out. He needs to be out of your lives for good. He is bringing the scraps of what’s left of our family down with him. I trust that you can do that, for me. “He nodded and I slapped him on the arm, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Come on we better start heading towards the reaping, or I’ll miss my chance. And we don’t want that do we?!” I said laughing and I started sprinting. He quickly caught on and ran to catch up, easily passing me. He was bloody fast. I slowed down after a little bit, I didn’t want to look grimy or sweaty when I went up to volunteer. I swiped at my forehead and stepped over to the 18 boys section. I took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of the ocean. I went to the top row so I could see the ocean. It was beautiful, clear and blue. I felt at peace with the world in a place that wasn’t very peaceful.

And then our District escort came out. I hadn’t even noticed the Mayor reading the Treaty and glorifying the Capitol. Kelvin Maier was our new District escort and he looked like something out of a horror film. With skin a ghastly gray color and lime green hair that stood out in all directions he was downright repulsive. He was extremely thin and his lips were painted permanently gold. He also had gold flecks pasted onto his skin. His long thin nose stuck out caught the sunlight. It was really weird to say the least

. He cackled in an oddly high pitched screech and uttered, “As tradition goes, we will start with boys first.” He walked over to the boys reaping ball and grabbed a piece of paper. As he opened it up I shouted, “I volunteer!!” I glided down the steps and puffed out my chest for the cameras. I put a haughty smile on my face and stood taller to my full 6 foot 1 height, towering over Kelvin. He looked up at me with what was supposed to be a smile but came out as a grimace.

“What’s your name young man?” He asked and handed me the microphone.

“My name is Ronan Troy and I will be the winner of the 125th Hunger Games!” I shouted, even though I had the microphone and then I flexed my muscles receiving a chorus of oohs and aah’s from the ladies. I grinned and went to sit down. Hunger Games here I come.