Our Hunger Games
The fence around District 11 is loose.
As it always has been.
It’s never occurred to me that I’d ever, ever go under. But, then again, I’ve never been this desperate. I wriggle under the metal coils that grasp my hair and my clothes, holding me back, but the voice of my mother and Bracken, my sister, urge me on. I manage to scrabble up onto my feet. The stale air of the night greets me, whipping my brown hair round my face. I bat it away. It’s silent around my town, the place where I’ve been all my life. I stare at the houses, the run-down wooden huts where people call ‘home’. There’s no sign of life anywhere - It’s reaping day – there’s nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. I examine my surroundings, the stretch of land between District 2, 4 and 11. The trees are tall and green, spiky or smooth-barked, going on for miles and miles. I want to escape, be free from my district. From the Hunger Games.
I pull out the knife I’ve kept in my pocket all day, just in case. I step into the forest. Maybe if I go far enough, I’ll reach District 2? Or 4? Either would be good.
Hearing a crunch of leaves behind me, I spin around...just a squirrel.
“Food” I mutter. I throw my knife. It’s an ordinary kitchen knife but it goes far. The squirrel makes a chuk noise and shoots off. My knife thunks into a tree trunk and snaps in half. I whip the knife blade from the wood, cutting myself. I’m too angry to care. I wipe the red off onto my brown jacket.
“What were you aiming at? Me? ‘Coz if you were, you have terrible aim."
My eyes widen and I whip round, drawring more blood from my palm. Some slides down the blade as I stare into the blue eyes of a boy I have never met. Definitely not from my district. If he was, he'd have the District 11 trademark brown hair. His is definitely blonde.
"Who are you?!" I shriek.
"From your district! Don't you reconginse me?" He lies. I smack him round the face, making him stagger backwards. "Okay, fine! Two!" I kick him in the shins. He falls to the floor, I am ready with my blade when he admits: "All right! All right! I'm from Four! Happy now?" I bring my knife hand down slowly, unsure, but when he shifts his position in the mud, I sharply bring it up again.
"No. You're from District Four, of course I'm not happy." I turn on my heels and run.
"Wait! District Eleven! Stop!" He yells, his voice comes closer. He's catching up with me! His footsteps halt for a second. I realise what's going on a second too late. I try to jump away but he catches my legs and pulls me down. But only after one of my flailing legs catches him in the face. I hear a snap when my foot hits his nose. I curl around myself in the grass, attempting to protect myself from any potential danger or punishment this boy will afflict on me for breaking his nose. When I look up, the boy is stalking off, holding his nose. I don’t know what to say.
“Who are you!?” I repeat to his fleeing back. He doesn’t seem to hear me. I feel the empty sack slung over my shoulder, feeling guilty and disappointed. I am about to reach under the fence wire so I can get home when a sack drops at my feet. My empty sack beats against my back, so I know it’s not my sack that has fallen. I risk a peak into it and find it packed with game, strawberries and squirrels. I let out a gasp of amazement.
“Hhhh!” I can’t believe it! Mother and Bracken won’t have to suffer! “I’ve actually done it!” I shout. I duck under the barbed wire, the full back banging against my heels as I return, triumphant, to my town. But as I walk away, I swear I catch a glimpse of a tall, blonde boy with a spear at hand, watching from the fence.