PLEASE READ THE NOTE BELOW. A LOT OF PEOPLE HAVE BEEN ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS OVER THE YEARS EVEN THOUGH EVERYTHING IS EXPLAINED IN IT.

a/n so you don't get confused: this is one year after katniss and peeta's games. technically it would be the quarter quell and the victors would be chosen, but I decided to make it so there wasn't an uprising. yet. also, peeta and katniss are engaged already and gale never moved to district two yadda yadda. okay, now on with the story~

one - ineffable

- - - ➳

there is silence as i sit in the grassy area just outside the woods. the soft bread in my hands is crumbling, and it is then when i realize i'm squeezing it so hard that it's breaking. a larger hand covers mine and i look to my left to see my older brother, roy, looking at me with a worried look in his coffee brown eyes.

"relax," he tells me. "there are tons of other kids in the reaping. do you know how small of a chance there is of you getting picked?"

roy has always been an optimist and for that i am extremely grateful. i am almost exactly the opposite; i find it difficult to look on the bright side of things, especially because of last year's hunger games. what katniss everdeen and peeta mellark did has set all of panem on edge— the districts are already seeming like a powder keg waiting to be ignited. and now that this year's the quarter quell...

usually, the twist in the games is announced prior to the reaping that's supposed to start later this afternoon. but this year we'd been informed that the change won't be revealed to the tributes. rather, they'll have to figure it out for themselves as the games go on. and the thought of seeing my brother in that agonizing arena makes my stomach clench.

"it's not me i'm worried about," i tell him, focusing my attention back to the bread, turning it over in my hands. "i'm scared for you. your name is in there forty-six times, roy. and i don't think i could cope with losing you."

roy sighs and entwines his fingers with mine, pulling me up from my previously seated position. i am about to ask him what he's doing when he hands me my twin daggers and sheathes them in my belt. he then takes two throwing knives out of his pocket and gives them to me, the metal cool against my skin. i take them from my brother and watch as he slips out his own knives from his worn, fabric pack.

"let's hunt," he suggests. "you like hunting; it'll get your mind off things. plus, you promised dad you'd get him something to cook tonight, am i right?"

i nod because he is right — as usual — and give him one last wave goodbye before we march off in different directions into the thicket of trees.

my attention is on high alert for any animal that may come my way. i brush away strands of my dark hair from my face, annoyed that they have come out of my ponytail. i am so focused on doing this that i almost miss the rabbit darting past me at an alarming speed.

i don't hesitate. i reach back and throw my knife, watching it soar, twisting and turning and then—

it almost lodges into a boy's skull.

he is so quick to react that he manages to stab the rabbit, duck, and roll out of the way before the knife impales him. he looks a bit shaken when he stands up, staggering a bit, but other than that, he is unscathed.

"watch where you're going!" i shout at him. he seems surprised at my tone and looks up.

the first thing i notice about him are his eyes. they are so blue and bright that they pierce my brain. his hair is a few shades lighter than mine like milk chocolate and is tousled, like he runs his fingers through it a lot. however, it manages to somehow look perfect.

"sorry." i am a bit thrown off by his reaction because i just shouted at him and he is apologizing. "i should have seen you there." he holds up the dead rabbit, still attached to his sword. "you can have it."

i shake my head, suddenly feeling a bit guilty for my impulsive outburst. "no, you keep it. you killed it. i'll just find another one." besides, the rabbit is old and scrawny and all in all not a very good one. i know i can find better.

"i insist." the boy thrusts his sword out to me, taking a few steps forward as he does so. "take it."

the look on his face is so sincere yet demanding that i can't help but slowly dislodge the rabbit from his weapon, careful not to cut myself on the sharpness of the blade. i am hesitant, so hesitant that by now any logical person in district twelve would have grabbed the rabbit back and ran, but the boy stays. his intense blue eyes are staring into mine and because of that i quickly finish pulling the rabbit away.

the boy turns and starts to walk away and for two seconds i think he is leaving, but he yanks my throwing knife out of the tree it had landed in and hands it to me. i don't know what to say. i don't really talk to many people and i'm not very good at being social. so, i almost choke as i say, "thank you."

the boy smiles and then i get a really good look at his face. his smile is sincere — he really wants me to take it — but there's a shadow on his face which suggests giving it away won't be good. i wonder how many siblings, if any, he has to feed at home, and suddenly i feel very selfish. my parents have both roy and i to hunt. this boy is probably all on his own.

and because these thoughts are consuming me and i am seconds from shoving the carcass into his arms and running, i quickly stop myself from doing so. i take a deep breath. if he wants me to take it, i will.

"no, really, thank you," i say, and then walk away before i can give into the guilt eating up inside of me.

i stuff the rabbit into the leather bag slung across my body and continue to search for something else to kill — something that will actually be mine.

-

when roy and i get home, there is no time to waste. we have spent too much time out in the woods and missed precious minutes to be getting ready for the reaping. immediately my mother whisks us away, pulling us into separate rooms to bathe. i linger in the warm, soapy water to keep my mind off the event that is only an hour away.

of course, my mother is already apprehensive and forces me out of the tub, scolding me because "roy is seventeen and he is already almost dressed and you have to be more like him and blah blah blah." most of it just goes in one ear and out the other as she dries me off with an old towel that is close to falling apart. she points to the dress that is folded across a chair and the shoes that are on the floor.

"be ready in five minutes so i can do your hair," she commands, then walks out of the room, leaving me by myself.

the dress is white and is the same one that i have been wearing to the reapings for the past two years. it goes to my knees and frills out around my legs. the worn and fraying fabric is tighter around my upper half and it's a little hard to breathe, but i know better than to complain. i know how tight money is.

i slip my feet into the shoes provided for me — brown flats, polished and looking almost brand new. i'm not too surprised since i only wear them once a year.

once i am fully dressed, i step into the main room where my mom and roy are waiting.

my brother's hair is neatly combed and all perfect-looking. the blue button-down shirt he's wearing contrasts to his dark eyes and my father's black dress pants are too baggy. he offers me a tight, forced smile while i stand in front of the mirror and squirm as my mother tugs and yanks at my long hair, pinning it away from my face and leaving it down in its natural, thick waves that are always too much of a bother to brush.

after my hair is finished, i walk stiffly to the kitchen, where my father is cooking the rabbit the boy in the woods had caught. i can tell because it looks extremely pitiful next to the plump squirrels roy must have killed.

"well, don't you two look sharp," he says to us as we sit down, tickling my neck as my mother places bowls of watery soup in front of us. i can't help but smile and neither can roy. my brother has obviously gotten his charm and optimism from him— there is no doubt about it.

roy and i both look alarmingly like our father. the three of us have dark hair, dark eyes, and pale, papery skin. mom's hair is ruby red and her eyes are a misty green. she always jokes about being the odd one out.

our father works in the mines like most of the men eighteen and older in district twelve do, while my mother is a teacher. they both don't get paid much, but my hopes are that things will get better next year once roy joins our father in the mines. then, in a few year's time, i'll have to find work as well.

i pick at my soup, not eating a lot mostly because i don't think i can hold it down. my stomach is queasy and i feel like my throat is lined with needles. my hands shake so badly that i drop the spoon into my bowl, causing a clinking sound that my entire family jumps at.

"i can't eat any more," i force out with my eyes averted from their curious stares. leaving the soup in its bowl, i push the wooden chair away from the table and sit on the overstuffed chair in front of the tiny television.

a few minutes later i am joined by roy, but he's only telling me that we need to go because it's time for the reaping. my wobbly legs feel like lead and my stomach twists into painful knots as i stand up and exit my home with my family.

-

i search for roy's head over the crowd of kids in the center of the district. my eyes are scanning by where i think the seventeen-year-olds are, but i can't pinpoint my brother's face no matter how hard i try. it is only when i am lightly pushed from behind by the thickening crowd around me that i finally stop.

i'm absolutely positive that my face is as pale as the sky above when the mayor steps on stage and drones on about the history of panem; about the war which resulted in the hunger games to keep districts one to twelve in check. i'm almost positive no one is actually listening because we've all heard this about seventy times before.

it is then when effie trinket steps on stage, her atrocious wig and puffy dress are purple this time and her heels impossibly high. she is lissome in her insane outfit, not seeming to be unbalanced in the slightest. she teeters to the microphone and presses her lips together as she scans us with eyes framed by lavender powder.

"welcome, welcome," she greets, a smile on her face. she seems a lot happier now that we actually had victors last time. "happy hunger games, and may the odds be ever in your favor." she nods to a couple of people in the front row. "it is my pleasure to address the previous victors of district twelve: haymitch abernathy, peeta mellark, and katniss everdeen."

people clap for once as the three of them make their way to the stage, climbing up the steps and standing a little ways from effie. katniss seems to scan every single person individually, her face neutral but i know she's secretly feeling sick on the inside. i can tell because i am doing that right now, and also because she is reaching for peeta's hand and her fingers are shaking.

"now," effie continues in her silly capitol lilt. "it is time to select two young, courageous men and women to compete in the seventy-fifth annual hunger games!"

she reaches into the glass bowl to her left, dainty fingers dancing around the slips of paper that will change one girl's life for however long it remains. it seems to take years for her to finally pick one.

although i know that my name being reaped is almost ineffable, my heart is pounding so badly it's all i can hear. the steady thump, thump, thump is consuming all my thoughts and all my feelings and that is why i can barely hear her when she announces,

"thalia forkshire."

and then i realize what she said.

and then i realize that is me.

gif is thalia outside

———-

so i decided to post this earlier than planned *insert smirk face emoji*

dedicated to holysmoak aka carly because she was more excited for this than me

if you don't like the lowercase intended stuff, oh well. i'm not changing it. it's too much work.

check out the cast so you know who to picture the characters as :)))

enough with my rambling. hope you liked the chapter, and if you have any questions, pm me!

xoxo,

kristyn