It's reaping day. You can tell by the hushed screams of children as they awake from nightmares, as they remember what our punishment is for our cry of freedom. It's not their fault, that's mainly the horror of it. You see, it's not only the tributes that suffer, it is directed at the parents as well, whether it's their own children, or someone like me, any child being forced to kill others is another nightmare.
The hunger games are a newly established terror. Every year two tributes from twelve districts, a boy and a girl between the ages of 12 and 18 get fussed around in the capitol for five days, then forgotten to all civilisations as they get dumped in a massive arena and left to find one well as this, every 25 years the capitol will disclose a ghoulish twist to the already traumatising games to make it even more difficult for there to be a winner. But the worst is still to come. We are made to celebrate it. It is said to be a glory to win, to be the Capitol's lapdogs, to be supressed into doing whatever is dictated to us. I hear the Capitol citezens can hardly wait.
But for me, I will concentrate on getting ready for it. Even though the reapings are meant to be randomly selected I know I will get picked. My father was one of the main military commanders who led the rebels of district two, and now he is captured. Believe me when I say it is more that just a funny feeling that my name is the only one is the selection bowl.
When Dad was alive, he taught me basic weaponry. I can skillfully handle a sword and have excellent aim with knives, and about average with a bow and arrow. My main weapon is a pistol, but there won't be any of those in the arena. After his death, I learnt the basic survival skills. Since he was the family breadwinner, and he is gone, you would expect my mother to supply for us, but she doesn't. That's because she has no legs, they were blown off by a landmine the Capitol set. So I feed my two little brothers and my sister who is a year younger than me, I feed my aunt and uncle, and also my grandpa, who never talks for sadness and depression. I hunt in the snowy mountains adjacent to my town with my sister who I am teaching and my best friend Aliya, who is teaching her brothers. It is the five of us. I know I will become a tribute today so I am finishing my sister Chloe's teaching and also gathering enough food for three weeks, so my family have some mourning time to recover without starvation.
The clock chimes eleven just as I shoot a deer. I shoot it in the foot so it won't dent the pelt. A fine doe pelt will gather a lot of money for a bereaved family. And the meat will keep them going. I would like to keep gathering food, but I need to prepare myself now. I come home with the deer on my back, and wash my long hair, and my mother puts it into ringlets for me. She has also laid out a lovely dress. It is off the shoulder in peppermint, she also leaves out her gold leaf necklace and hairpin, and she also left her green sandals for me to wear. Chloe is in a bodytight violet dress which suits her well.
We file into the town square and wait for the district escort to appear. Eventually she does, she smiles and waves, evidently expecting us to recognise her - no one does - or at least no one acknowledge her. A projected image above her head proclaims her as Vanilla Lovendewll, which is a particularly precocious and idiotic capitol name, even for extreme cases.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to only the fifth ever annual hunger games, isn't it exciting!" Vanilla exclaims. No one even looks at her. "Well, let's get on with this, shall we look at the gentlemen first?" she swirls her hand into the first large fishbowl and pulls out a slip of paper. "Riley Penderghast! Come on up Riley!" she says as a brutal looking eighteen year old steps out from the crowd, his face is completely emotionless, and I make a mental note never to fully trust him.
"And now for the ladies!" I breathe slowly, remember, everyone is watching, the entire district, and all the cameras as well, shipping this film to the capitol where there are the entire lot of sponsors. Look confident, act cool. And Then I brace my self for my name. Except it isn't my name when the card comes out, it's Chloe Greengrass. My Sister.