Rosslyn's Games (The 49th Hunger Games.)

This is the story of the 49th Hunger Games. Most of it is told from the perspective of Rosslyn Willow, a girl from District 7, but I plan on throwing in some POV changes!

Chapter 1

Chapter One.

I wake up on reaping day to the smell of pancakes and syrup. We have it every reaping day, it is our treat. We even spare a bit of butter. Being from District 7, the maple syrup is not hard to get, but pancake ingredients are, especially when you are feeding a family of 7.

I jump up and run to the table, only stopping to wake my roommate and 6-year-old brother, Toby.

"Toby. Toby, wake up. We have pancakes!" He opened his adorable, sleepy brown eyes. Toby is the cutest kid I have ever seen, I love him more than life itself. He has super curly, chocolate brown hair, and the biggest eyes you've ever seen.

"Good mornin' Wosswen," He smiles, having trouble with his R's. I scoop him up and carry him to the kitchen table.

"Rosslyn, Toby." My mom greets, kissing us both quickly on the cheek in order to go back to finishing the food. My older sister, Maribelle, sets us two places at the table. I set Toby down in a tall seat, and take a set between the two of them. I eagerly take one of the already finished delicacies and plop in on my plate. It tastes like Heaven.

"Mmmm." I moan, syrup drizzling down the corner of my mouth.

"Good?" Mom asks, setting the rest of them onto the table.

"Yes Ma'am!" Toby exclaims, taking a big chomp out of his. We all laugh as he licks his lips that are covered in the sticky topping.

"Leave some for Dad and Carigan." Maribelle laughs. Carigan is Maribelle's fiancé, and the father of the baby in her belly. Though she is only 19, and him 21, they have been dating since they were 11 and 13, so marriage is only a milestone. Him and Dad both work in one of the lumberyards, most men do. They have to work even on reaping day, but they will be home in time for the reaping itself.

After our delicious breakfast, I help Maribelle wash the dishes. "Are you scared?" She whispers. Mom will not even entertain the thought of one of her children being reaped, so we must be quiet.

"Just a little. I mean, we don't need tesserae, so I'm not entered as near as much as most people. But I am 16, so my name is in there 5 times. The odds of them picking me are slim though, so I will focus on that." Another though scared me, though I didn't tell Maribelle. She had turned 19 a few months ago, so I would be going through the process alone for the first time. I had never really worried about it before, Maribelle had always sworn to volunteer for me had the need arose, but now she couldn't.

Maribelle kissed me on the forehead and hugged me. "You'll be fine. Now go get on your dress and I'll fix your hair."

*********************************************************
My dress was the nicest thing I'd ever owned. It was a soft blue, with a belt around the middle. It fit me perfectly and made my usually plain face look noticeable. I looked at myself in the mirror and Maribelle braided the sides of my hair back.

I have the trademark Willow family brown eyes, we all have them. I have naturally wavy dark brown, almost black hair. Mom's is straight, Dad's curly. Maribelle got straight, Toby got curls, and I got in between waves. That didn't just happen with appearance actually, Maribelle was a lot like Mom, Toby like Dad, and I was a mix of both.

"You look pwetty!" Toby yelled when I walked into the kitchen. And with that we walked to the reaping.

****************************************************

I said goodbye to everyone and went and signed in. The worst part, every year, was having my finger pricked, I am terrified of needles.

I met my best friends Sage and May in the holding pen, and we held hands and stood in silence. We stood, bored to death for the opening speeches and the presentation we watched every year, until finally Districts 7's escort, Candi Madigan took the stage.

"Good evening ladies, gentlemen, boys and girls. Fingers crossed, my lovelies" She announced, in that repulsive Capitol accent, as she reached into the bowl of girls names. She said the same thing every year. She dug around until she found the slip she wanted, and she pulled it out and opened it painstakingly slow.

"The female tribute from District 7, set to compete in the 49th annual Hunger Games is-"

My heart is pounding out of my chest.

"Rosslyn Willow."

I think I scream.

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