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 :)
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District Seven's Reaping
Name : Hallie Sanders
District : 7 (Lumber)
Age : 15
Hair : Reddish orange, looks almost like fire in the sunlight
Eyes : Brown
Strength : Fast, can throw things with accuracy
Weapon : Knives (sometimes axes, but not really as they are too heavy for her liking)
Mentor : Alia Gordon
Personality : Sly, random, and very clever
Allies : None. She operates alone.
Other : Lives with her aunt, and sells pottery
"Hallie! Wake up! It's Reaping Day! It's in half an hour!" at that last part, my aunt Taina slaps me. It's the only way to get me up, as I'm a heavy sleeper. Wait. What did she say about the Reaping in half an hour? Crap, she's right. It's 11:30.
My mind goes into overdrive, putting on clothes. An emerald green dress that was my mother's, before she got killed by a falling tree. Shoes to go with it. Fix my hair. There, I'm done. I look into the mirror, and honestly, I look stunning. The dress makes my chocolate brown eyes pop, the nude pumps makes my petite frame seem taller, and my red hair is down, and in the sunlight, it gives the illusion of fire(I know this because I have a window in my room.).
I walk down the stairs, a little wobbly from the heels, and find my best, and only, friend, Adriana Vega, waiting for me. She looks great too; her black hair done into a messy bun, her purple frock really playing up her blue eyes dilated with fear. She isn't very good at hiding her emotions, unlike me.
We embrace each other quickly, and then silently make our way down to the square, where the Reaping takes place. We sign in, and make our way to the designated section of fifteen year olds.
The escort, fresh from the wretched Capitol, Julia Schultz, takes a hit from a cigarette. Ugh. I hope I don't get picked, because I'm sure the entire train will smell like smoke. Only in the Capitol...
Our mentor this year, Alia Gordon, explains to us that even though it isn't a Quarter Quell, we are only sending one tribute his year. Good. That lessens my chance of my name being drawn out of that enormous bowl containing both the male and the female names of the portion of the District.
Julia's hand reaches into the bowl. I squeeze Adriana's hand. It doesn't matter anyway.
"The tribute for District Seven is Hallie Sanders," Julia says almost giddily. Crap. Why me? I give Adriana's hand one last squeeze as I walk up onto the makeshift stage. I have to remind myself to look confident, or else the Careers will surely target me.
"Any volunteers?" she asks. No one replies.
I am going into the arena whether I like it or not.