THE ROMANCE GAMES
CHAPTER 1:
"Do you understand me Camellia? You understand the big chance you have of being entered right?"
Ruven spoke with a calm but stern voice. My older brother knew that he could easily lose me in an instant like we lost our father. Though Ruven never spoke about it, he knew why I was most likely to be chosen.
"Camellia, answer me. Are you prepared for the possibility?"
I nodded, "I've been preparing for about a year now."
"How fast are you?" These were motivation words to keep me going and alive if my name is drawn. I need to answer positively.
"I'm as fast as the wind" I reply.
"How strong are you?" He asks.
"I can move mountains." I answer
"Where will you die?"
"I will die an old lady in my home." I say.
"Why?"
"Because I will win the Hunger Games." I say strong and reassuring. He hugs me so tight I feel like the life has been sucked out of me. Ruven has been training with me for the last year after my father died. He knew why I'd most likely be chosen for the next Hunger Games. He's been teaching me to fight like a career. Like a winner. Like my father.
"I'll be waiting in the crowd. And if you're chosen don't panic. Remember our plan. Walk like nothing exciting or scary has happened. Theirs is still the chance that someone will volunteer for you." He assures me, but I can see in his big blue eyes that he's thinking the same thing as me. I'm seven-teen. I'm too old to have anyone take my place. I look at him, his dark skin and blue eyes. We could be twins if he weren't taller than me, and older than me by three years.
He gives my one last hug and a kiss on the forehead. I walk into my room and wash up for the reaping and curl my silky brown hair. I put on my mother's red silk dress and golden necklace. My mother wore that for her last reaping. She was never picked. But after a couple years, after she married my father, her younger sister, only twelve, was picked and killed by the careers. My mother closed up after that. Never spoke again and ate and did everything in silence. As if she couldn't talk about the pain. We could tell she was hurting. And when no one volunteered she was heartbroken. She wanted a proper funeral for her sister, but the capitol disposed of the bodies and wouldn't let families have access to them. I and my brother are on our own now. Nothing to do but try to survive. My brother works in the field and harvests. In district 11, that's the only real job the men are allowed to have. I work as a seamstress and make clothing. My mother had that job. But she just lies in her bed and cries herself to sleep at night. Losing two people in a couple years was hard for her and us. But there's nothing we can do now.
I wash up my face and walk with my friends Ava to the square. She is the mayors' only child. Lucky her she's entered only 7 times. I had to enter a couple more for teseara. This year, I'll be entered in 18 times. I walk to my age group and wait for the reaping to begin. Camera's surrounded the whole square and watches our every move. Every moment will be televised. The past victors, mayor, and our escort step onto the stage. The escort I knew, probably only 21 with bright blond hair and big red lips, Elaina was her name, steps up to the mic.
"Happy Hunger Games, and May the odds be ever in your favor!"
She smiled bright white teeth and put her hands into the tribute bowl.
"Ladies first….. Camellia Bridge!"
I felt like a truck ran into me. I saw it coming, and so did everyone else. It was no surprise President Snow was trying to get back at me for what my father did.
"Any volunteers?" she says with a cheerful voice, as if it's an honor. An honor to be sentenced to your death. It's silent and no one moves a muscle.
"Okay, boys next… Marcus Lecross."
The name echoes in my head. Marcus, my friend, my family, my future.
My boyfriend.