The Equestria Games

by Mitslits

And the Other is Chosen

I grow still. My insides turn to slush and are about as useful as a pancake in a knitting factory. No. No, this couldn't be true. No way. One name. One name among thousands. She read it wrong. I know it.

But she didn't. Because Rarity is still standing there, expectant look on her face as she scans the crowd. Waiting for my sister to push her way forwards and say "here I am. I'm the tribute from District 12." Only it doesn't happen quite like that. Because I won't let it.

Primrose begins to head towards the stage, struggling to hold back tears. The other fillies her age step back, glancing at her with pity and relief mixing in their eyes. They feel sorry for her and glad they themselves were not chosen. One little part of her mane is flipped up at the back and I had teased her about it for years calling her my 'little duck'.

Seeing that slight imperfection jolts me out of my shock and I leap forwards. "No, Prim!" I scream, ducking under a Peacekeeper's outstretched hoof. I will not let them take her from me; I'm stronger than she is, more used to finding food than she is. Peacekeepers close in on me and I'm beginning to lose sight of my dear little sister who is nearly at the stage. I'm growing desperate, panicking now, my movements becoming more frantic and rushed. "I volunteer!" The words rip their way out of my throat before I can think, stunning me and everypony else with their raw emotion. "I volunteer", I repeat, more sanely, stepping out of the circle of Peacekeepers.

Prim spins around as Gale Force slowly trots up to herd her away. Her frantic eyes meet mine and her jaw drops open with terror. In fact, she looks more terrified than when her own name was called. "NO! NO!" she shrieks as Gale blocks her way forward.

I run to her, smoothing down her mane quickly. "Prim, listen to me", I spit out, rushing as the Peacekeepers beckon me towards the stage. "Hush. You have to be strong right now, okay? Go with Gale, alright?" I can't say anymore. I have to go. I turn and slowly ascend the steps, trying not to think about the hundreds of pairs of eyes on me, millions if you counted those in the Capitol watching safely from their posh living rooms. I just know I'll trip or sneeze or something. Or, even worse, cry. But I don't. I make it over to Rarity and she shifts to the side to give me access to the microphone.

"Isn't this lovely?" she asks again. She seems very fond of rhetorical questions. "District 12's very first volunteer! What's your name, dear?"

It takes a second for me to realize that this is a question that requires an answer and I lean forward slightly, bringing my lips closer to the microphone. "Fire Mare Everfree." My voice rasps horribly.

Rarity looks at me with fake warmth. "Well, I would guess that that charming young filly was your sister, am I right?"

I look at the pony in disbelief. Is she even real? Surely a pony this insensitive to everything going on around her couldn't be, right? I almost stretch my hoof out and poke her, just to make sure, but I decide against it. Instead I just nod, numbness beginning to creep over me. I just volunteered myself for a game in which there is only one winner. And to win, I would have to kill. But if I killed everypony else I would be a victor, showered with wealth and plenty. I would wake up each morning to Spitfire back to her old self and Prim laughing at the mound of food on the table. The mound of food that I could give them... Then and there I resolved to win. Dying trying was a given.

Seeming satisfied with my mute affirmation, Rarity moves on to the boys. She digs around in the bowl and I agonize over this fact. Get it over with and let it not be Gale, I plead in my mind. She pulls out a slip and reclaims her spot in front of the microphone, forcing me to stumble backwards. The white unicorn savors the stillness as she unfolds the paper and once again looks out over the crowd.

"Not Gale", I whisper, barely realizing I'm saying it. "Not him." If it came down to a fight between me and him I didn't know what I'd do. "Anyone but him. Nopony could be worse than him."

Rarity glances over at me before returning her gaze to the crowd. "Bread Boy."

___________________________________________________

The neverending rain drips down off the tree's leaves onto my mane, which is already plastered to my forehead. My eyes are narrowed against the stinging drops and my stomach growls, reminding me of the long absence of food. Prim and mom are starving. As am I. Any food I get is going to them and I know I cannot last much longer. My eyes dart towards the trash cans outside the bakery. Stealing is a crime, but we are so hungry...

I've just steeled myself to sneak some scraps of stale bread from the nearly overflowing bins when the door snaps open. I suck my breath in through my teeth as the smell tickles my nostrils. It's heaven on earth, that scent. Water floods my mouth as the odor conjures images of steaming golden loaves, buns laced thinly with flour, pastries so full of jelly it dribbles down the sides, leaving flecks of red on the counter. My stomach growls again and I shrink back into the foliage.

A colt emerges, seeming to be about my age of fourteen. He is the same golden brown as the bread in my imagination with a mane the color of coffee with cream. His eyes, filled with pain, are a delicious toffee color. The pain comes from a red welt newly formed on his cheek and the silence of the gloomy day is broken by angry screaming from inside the baker.

I can't see who's yelling, but the colt is glancing fervently in my direction. Two loaves of bread come flying out of the house, blackened patches covering one end of each loaf. The bread thuds down at his hooves and I catch a few words. "Feed the pigs!"

The colt turns away from the door and picks up one loaf in his jaws, careful to grasp it by the burnt end. This strikes me as odd. The loaves are ruined. Why be careful with them? I soon get my answer. With one glance back at the house, he casually sends the first loaf sailing in my direction. It arcs through the raindrops before splashing down into a muddy puddle nearby. Just as quickly the second loaf drops down beside its partner. The colt vanishes back inside and I hear one final insult before the door slams shut. "Have fun in the rain, Bread Boy? Don't do it again, idiot!"

I dash out to the loaves and just manage to jam both into my mouth. I spin and flee towards the relative safety of our little shack. Prim's face when she sees the meal is worth all of the risk I took in getting it.

__________________________________________________________

Okay, so I was wrong. There was one pony just as bad as Gale. And his name had just been called. Thanks a lot, odds. Thanks a lot.

Comments

[All is Dust]

This shows promise. I normally try to refrain from this but.....
here take it.

Live long, write fast

Titan

[Sea_Shimmer]

This is awesome! I love how you got the characters from the series and used them here.

[The Grey Pegasus]

Again, only because you guys aren't taking this seriously.

[Mitslits]

1535872
Yeah, it's meant to be a kind of parody.

[Songbrony]

Lol this was fun to read. Can't wait for the actual arena!!