Glances of Promise (The Hunger Games Fanfic)

Another fanfic - in honor of me not tearing up over the film. I'm on depression mode where I get this painful chest thumpings and horrible thoughts, okay. I'm not looking forward to the ending of this, but I'm getting into the part of life where I'm a masochist, so yeah.

Chapter 1

Keep Your Eyes Open

During the hard times, I was free.

I was careless, and I couldn't care less about food shortage even when our food was two small fishes sliced in half in which I claimed the tail. I called it the perks of being next to District Four.

I lived in the polluted part of Panem, or so I thought. Books were provided for us, mostly for technologies that we were ordered to study to further intensify the power of the Capitol, which I respected. The rulers of the Capitol were brilliant - I wished to be one of them.

But do you know the feeling you get when everything is turned upside down?

The feeling that you get when you realize you're just lying to yourself, yet you choose not to be honest?

Well, a simple call of your voice could change everything.

As I registered these thoughts, I closed my eyes to stop the infuriated stinging in my eyes and in that moment, I felt my forehead prick something and my whole face being ravished by a tree.

A round of chuckles were brought up behind me, and I felt the back of my head being shoved deeper into the tree - which was not possible, I tell you; it just made my face have scratches and wounds.

Keep calm, my chest heaved as I knitted my eyelids close tighter.

"Another one in less than ten hours?" a female's voice rang through the air. "Goodness, we're brilliant!"

"Shh, the careers will hear us." a gruff voice said, raspy, as if he had been eating cinnamon without any water, wait-- cinnamon?!

There was the smell of it in the air!

The rumbling of leaves, branches and twigs shook the air and the two owners of the voices panicked.

"Q-quick, kill her! Th-the careers!" the female provided.

"Where's the knife?" he screamed, a few inches behind my ear.

"I-I don't know!" the sound of a mildly heavy item -probably a bag- thumped the ground and a bunch of others fell too. My face was once again smudged into the rough tree because of the boy's panic. "I-It's gone!"

"You dim-wit!" the boy concluded perspicaciously. I felt pressure lightening from the grip on my head and my chest heaved two more continuous times. My breath was in ragged pants, like sobs, but that wasn't the case. Sweat was dripping from my hair lines and I've got to keep myself quiet. Keep calm.

I heard them their feet pattering madly on the leaves, and I took two deep breaths, right hand formed into a first as I applied its force on my chest. Then when realization hit, I dropped to the ground and thrashed around, hitting anything that I could: those idiots stole my pack!

I brought down my first on the ground, biting the skin under my lip, almost tearing off the skin. I almost died getting that blumbering backpack!

The clack-clack-clack of something woke me from my pitiful episode, and blew my cheeks in anticipation of my doom. This really is pitiful. I could hear my district sighing of yet another Game where they were humiliated by weak tributes.

Immediately wiping my eyes, I sniffed a couple of times and looked up at a hole in a tree branch. I grinned the widest I could and waved at it. And now I could imagine the people I know laughing at me, remembering my goofy ways in which I tried to act the most normal that I could.

Pity again that I was hungry.

"Waving at a tree won't get you anything other than getting murdered, you know." someone behind me said so intelligently.

"Yes," my voice nearly shook with irritation. I stood up and turned around, eager for a bit of sanity even though it might be the other way around. I scrounged my face, my way of trying to keep any emotions invalid - but honestly, I know I look pathetic, but do I really give a damn?

Her figure was leaning against the tree, and there was another boy behind her, looking confident and everything that I ever wanted to be.

Another boy, looking very strikingly familiar, was there, much younger, shorter than they are. But the thing that caught my attention the most is the trashing and crying girl he was holding by the hair. She was, as I know, the one who saved me from the bloodbath. I was hiding under the horn from the outside, waiting for them to leave, because, well, I have a low stamina and I lose my breath really fast - I couldn't run fast either. I have the agility of a newly-operated gecko, minus its camouflaging abilities.

I had managed to snag a pack, dark and brilliantly shimmering as I ran to the centre, which, thankfully, I was there now. But someone managed to find me, and was beginning to bring down the rigging knife straight down my eyes.

And then she came, tackling down the assailant, her fiery red, curly hair running after her. I managed to compose my shock after a five second delay and stepped on the throat of the jackascs. I guess my boots were really hard as my costume designer had said because three seconds after twisting it on his throat, the cannon boomed and I looked around - only the three of us were left on the cornucopia and everyone else on there was dead; either ravaged, blown up or stabbed.

And then she crouched and picked up the red backpack on his hand. And then she grinned at me, me returning that grin, forgetting for a second the godless murder I had done.

"Your items for" -- she jabbed her thumb, gesturing at the girl -- "this."

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

"And why?" I said, voice coated with pretend suspiciousness.

"We need supplies," she said simply.

"What's the exchange for?" I raised an eyebrow, and I saw the redhead's eyes widen.

The girl pouted and widened her eyes too. "Because she weminds woo of wittle Ren ,"

I turned to the boy holding the red hair. "You told them?"

He looked down, ashamed. I saw his ears turn red, and I growled, gritting my teeth. "You're a dumbas's, you know that? Oh, wait," I paused for effect, and I knew his emotions were becoming a waterfall. "yes, you do! Even your dear mother made clear of that,"

"Don't bring my mother into this!" I mimicked the way his mouth moved, nose scrounged. I looked behind and around me, and I saw my backpack on the floor, a bit behind the tree.

There wasn't any thing left there, I knew, but maybe I can fool them. Just maybe.

I glowered at them, biting the inside of my cheeks lightly. "Drop your weapons,"

The girl acting as a spokesperson looked at the boy behind her, and he shrugged. She dropped hers to the ground, crouching as she did so while glaring at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Them, too."

And then the two started a staring contest. I joined in, staring dead straight at the boy's eyes. He seemed to have felt my gaze as he averted his eyes to me, and I caught his - they were the exact shade of the sparkling fountain in the middle of District One. Those eyes appeared so vivacious that it felt wildly impossible for it to fall dead and bland.

He threw his --I don't know-- to the ground as if he was just spitting.

I walked backwards up to the tree, staring at them as I did so. I kneeled, zipped the bag open -- "What are you doing? Look, she's putting some stuff away!" -- and placed rocks in it. One by one, carefully but not too slowly, I put rocks, big ones, not pebbles, and zipped it close again after six lucky entries.

I stood up, scrounged my face in a scowl, and trudged to them, leaving a five feet distance.

"You first." she said.

"No," I replied, craning my neck.

"You're outnumbered,"

"Fine." I growled, cursing my lost piece of pride - which I shouldn't have anyway. "Bring her forward first, though," I'm losing my one piece of resource just so I wouldn't be in debt of someone, just-- Just thinking of it made my chest fill with irritation.

The girl shoved the boy holding redhead's hair. He stumbled forward, and I grabbed his arm, throwing them the backpack three feet to their side.

"Oh, damn it, sorry. I have bad hand-eye coordina-- damn it again. I shouldn't have said that..." the blue-eyed boy behind the girl, who went to pick up the pack, raised an eyebrow. "And you!" I twisted the boy's arm and took the redhead's hand, entangling her fingers with my own. He cringed as I twisted it more.

"That's enough."

I checked the weapons on the ground: Knife, knife, another knife, a ball looking like it was made of metal and a dagger. I mentally breathed a sigh of relief for they lacked long-range objects.

"In three..." I whispered into her ear.


"One," I glanced up at the three of them, still thankful that they're only copy cats of the real Careers. The redhead was in front of me, her ears thankfully level to my lips. "Two," I grasped her hands locked around mine tighter. "Three!" I hissed, running away from the copy cats.

Unfortunately, I really did have the agility of a newly-operated gecko. Redhead was already ahead of me, and I let go of her hand, giving her the chance to live. Lucky her. At least she'll be indebted to me - or isn't that counted?


Got three reads last time I created a THG fanfic, but I'm over that. I just want to learn to love writing the feeling of writing again.

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