No Pain, No Game (A Hunger Games Fan-Fiction)
Hey! This willl be a group story between me and about seven other people! :D No copyright inteded, just doing this for our own amusement. It is in no way sponsored, approved, endorsed by or affiliated with Suzanne Collins :)
THIS IS OUR STORY! NOT YOUR QUIBBLO! WE PUT IN OUT TIME AND EFFORT TO DEVELOPE THIS, AND IN NO WAY IS ANY PART OF IT YOURS! THIS IS OUR DISCLAIMER! SO TAKE THAT AND SHOVE IT IN YOUR MOUTH!
District 10, Day of the reaping
Name : Stefiana Jones
District : 10 (Livestock)
Age : 14
Hair : Dark dark straight brown
Eyes: somehow purple
Strength : Strong, is average height and weight, but an amazingly fast runner
Weapon : Bow and arrow
Mentor : Lila Greystone
Personality : Even though her her district is with livestock, she loves animals, but will certainly kill to survive. She is determined, trustworthy and smart.
Allie(s): Anyone worthy, though only one or two
Other: 2 younger brothers (Mom and Dad were killed so when she was chosen, she asked her best friend, Katrina to look after them if she didn't make it back)
â€œBlake, Anthony! Get down here! Itâ€™s the day of the reaping!â€
As I adjusted the hem of my pail green shirt, my two 7 year old twin brothers came trotting down the stairs. Both of them were wearing identical pale blue pants and t-shirts, but while Anthonyâ€™s hair looked fairly tamed, Blakeâ€™s hair was a tangled mess. I sighed at I went over and attempted to flatten his hair.
â€œBlake, how many times have I told you, that even though you are a boy, you still have to make sure your hair doesnâ€™t look like somethingâ€™s living in it,â€ I scolded him. Though, I think by now they were used to this. When I was twelve, my mother and father were killed while they were travelling to see some our family members. The wagon crashed, the axles snapped and they were crushed instantly. What seemed to be a normal day was soon filled with grief. But that was two years ago, and now I was in charge of taking care of the family house. Blake and Anthony were aware that Mother and Father were gone, but they did not fully understand.
Checking to make sure they were both ready, even though they werenâ€™t qualified in the games yet (which in my opinion was a good thing), they were still coming. We walked out of the house, my long dark hair blowing in the wind. As the boys ran off to catch up with some of their friends, I walked over to my favorite horse. His full name was Fortis Animus, which was Latin for brave-hearted, but I called him Fort.
I went over to the black stallion, gently stroking his back. â€œHey boy, itâ€™s reaping day today. â€œ He let out a sharp breath and stomped his foot. I tried to comfort him. â€œI understand, I do not like these games either, but we are forced to compete. I pray I do not get chosen. But until I come back, goodbye. Donâ€™t eat all of your hay!â€ I told him, hurrying off to join my best friend, Katrina Martinez. She was fourteen, just like me, her black hair flowed down her back. She was tall, but one of the kindest people you could ever have the pleasure of meeting.
â€œKatrina! Thank god I caught you! It is always so crowded at this time!â€ I exclaimed hugging my best friend. â€œYes,â€ she said,â€ and it is not because of excitement. I think everyone just want to get this torture over with. It will probably be one of those eighteen year olds who are chosen.â€ I only nodded in response. As everyone filed into the area, the district 10 mentor, Lila Greystone, announced the usual speech while Katrina and I waited anxiously for this event to be done.
â€œAlright, let us begin! Well, this year the mayor has announced that there will only be one tribute from each district instead of two. Even though it is not a Quarter Quell, he expects you all to oblige.â€ This time, instead of two bowls full of the girlâ€™s names and the boyâ€™s names, there was one large one on at the center of the stage. Lila put her hand in and dug around, her hand grasping a small folded piece of paper. She dug it out and examined in. â€œAh,â€ she said. â€œOur tribute this year is a girl.â€
My breath quickened. That meant my chances were doubled. But the name that was chosen wasnâ€™t mine, but the one that was chosen was even more frightening.
â€œKatrina Martinez!â€ Lila called. Katrina froze her eyes wide. I turned to her and she turned to me. â€œNoâ€¦ NO! You canâ€™t go!â€ I told her, clinging to her arm. She shook me off roughly butt looked at me in the eyes. â€œBut I donâ€™t have a choice,â€ she said, a sob at the back of her throat. The crowd parted, making a pathway for her to make her way to the stage. My mind was racing. I couldnâ€™t let her do that! She was the sweetest person I knew; she wouldnâ€™t survive a day in this tournament. I couldnâ€™t watch her go, and I couldnâ€™t let my best friend die.â€
â€œKATRINA! Do not take another step!â€ I yelled. Katrina, now close to the stage, turned around and looked at me with horror in her eyes. Everyone elseâ€™s eyes were on me, and there was a thick fog of doubt in the air. But they all seemed to know what my next words would be. â€œI volunteer as tribute.â€
Murmurs and whispers spread around the whole area, but Katrinaâ€™s eyes never met mine. She was just rushing over to me. â€œWhy did you do that?!â€ she hissed. I just shook my head. â€œWhat is done is done.â€ She looked at me in utter disbelief, but I just walked past her, trying to keep my emotions inside of me. For the boyâ€™s sake.
And as I climbed on the stage, I really took a look at this town. I suddenly appreciated the beauty that was in it. I inhaled every scent and every detail, because for all I knew, that could be the last time I ever saw the real beauty of district 10.
"The tribute for district 10 is Stefiana Jones!"