The wind blows hard on my face as I navigate my way through the streets. My short cropped hair still lies flat on my head and other than the wind, it is a normal day.
Oh. I forgot. Today is Reaping Day.
Already a crowd of people are gathered around the square, no doubt ready for the reaping to begin. I see that my parents are not anywhere. Probably watching at home.
I had left at about three in the morning to get ready. And ready I look! My brown hair is parted nicely where I can and I am wearing my best clothes. The ones that citizens of District 8, my district, distribute for special occasions.
The announcer steps up to the microphone, and his deep voice rings about the square.
"Welcome to the reaping, citizens of District 8. My name is Harrison Roseau and I am your host for this years Reaping.
"I would like you to stand tight while the video plays. It will teach you about the reason that we host your Hunger Games."
The video shows war. War in which the Capitol won, like always. There is a shot of District 13's bombing, and I am wondering if somebody or multiple people could have survived. It could have happened, you know.
Then Harrison says,"OK, now let's pick the boy and girl from District 8 for the 17th Hunger Games." His hand goes into the ballot box. "For the girl, Elaine Morrison." His hand goes into the boys' ballot box: "James Bishop."
I wait for James to step forward, then I realize that's me! Oh, no no no. I walk up, every eye on me. I turn to Elaine, and whisk myself out before I cry on public television.
