The New Head Gamemaker
Hey guys,after reading other fanfics and SYOTs, I've decided to write my own. This is my first story so I do appreciate helpful advice.
INKITT READERS: This story is imported from my FanFiction account, 'DomiHearts1497'. This story was my first and does contain grammar errors. Please don't let this discourage you from reading! :)
A Future Domi ;)
Disclaimer: I unfortunately don't own The Hunger Games
The rebellion failed and the Hunger Games lived on…
Icelynne Winterrose POV
I stand in my eerily vacant office staring at my arena blueprints and mutt ideas. I hope President Echo likes them. I'm only 19, being the youngest Head Gamemaker ever in Panem History. Some might say I'm young and naïve and not fit for the job, but I've waited my whole life for this. To see blood gush from their veins, seeing tributes suffer the most horrific deaths. Causing them to suffer is most ultimate goal.
Taking a break from planning, I head to the bathroom to shower. Running a hand through my white blonde hair, I glance into the mirror watching as icy blue eyes stare back at me. My skin is so light with many faded scars. I cannot stop as flashbacks of my life back in District 8 wretch through my body.
"You stupid, pathetic girl! You will never amount to anything; you'll become a sorry excuse just like your damn father!"
I watch as my mother throws a plate at me splintering the floor and pieces of glass digging in to my flesh. I run out of the house, scared and confused. Through hot tears I run to the only place I know is safe.
My mother was never the same after my older brother died in the Games. Turning to alcohol to numb her pain, she turned into a monster, my worst nightmare. She got abusive and my father eventually left, leaving me to suffer her wrath. I don't blame her for getting this way though. I do blame her for blatant scars and emotional wounds that I carry with me.
I resorted to the woods for protection and life. I learned to live off the plants and nature. One day, I stole my mother's knife to cut some branches on this tree that was bothering me. I observed as a white rabbit hopped into my view. I became angry as I thought of how that rabbit didn't have to go through what I did. I ran over to it with my beautiful knife and grabbed it. It squirmed under my grasp and I ran the sharp blade across its throat. Blood bubbled and flowed down its neck and died after one last stolen breath. I felt a surge of power in me I never knew existed and grew to love it.
I trained everyday with that knife. Throwing at targets I made. Skinning and dicing through animals. To show my mother I could amount to something, I decided I was going to volunteer for the 98th Annual Hunger Games and come home a victor at 18.
Reaping a year earlier
"Virtue Willowstone" called the escort, her voice echoing throughout District 8.
I smile as a puny 12 year old begins to mount the stage. "So weak", I mumble. "She wouldn't get past the bloodbath". Just when I'm about to volunteer, a tall girl with curly red hair runs to the stage and shoves the 12 year old out of the way.
"I volunteer, I'm Serenity Willowstone", the girl says weakly.
Anger took over me.
The girl's sister was volunteering for her! This was supposed to be my year!
I stare into her eyes full of fear and think of my failed life.
I remember watching her die in the bloodbath by a career on the huge screen in the town square the district sets up for those who don't have televisions at home. The career sliced her throat and repeatedly stabbed her too many times to count. My laugh echoed in the tiny area of town. Many looked at me weirdly and angrily, but I ignored them. I wasn't mad anymore but full of joy. She deserved to die for taking my chance of becoming victor.
Exiting out of the bathroom with heavy steam following me, I put on a black lacey dress and apply on black eyeliner and mascara. This year's Games will be one not forgotten. It will live on in Panem history. I will prove my mother wrong and become something important.
I will cause precious blood to shed.
Love Always, Domi