Chapter One: Lily's Point of View
I wait, standing in the back of the section marked off for all the twelve year olds, nervously wringing my hands together. After years of anxiously waiting on the side as tributes were chosen, it's my turn to join them, and I can honestly say it's not something I've been looking forward to. My breath comes in short little pants and my whole body has a slight shake. My breathing comes faster and faster and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Using the trick my mom taught me, I inhale deeply. One - I still have my brother and mom. I take another deep breath. Two - there's enough food to eat for now. My third breath comes slower. Three - Aisly's going to teach me a new song tomorrow. My next breath is almost back to normal. Four - my name is only entered once in the Reaping Bowl. By my fifth breath, I've calmed down. Five - neither Haymitch nor I will be drawn in the Reaping, and tonight we'll have a big celebratory feast with wild strawberries and fresh bread from the bakery, a rarity for our family.
With my breathing back to normal, my eyes roam the crowd until I see my older brother, Haymitch. As usual, he's wearing a cocky arrogant look on his face with his chin in the air. Over the years, Haymitch has been the object of almost every girl's fantasies even though he's had a girlfriend, Susan, the last two years. The nonstop attention has kind of gone to his head over the years, and let's just say, he's not lacking in the confidence department.
His short brown hair glimmers in the sunshine as he looks over at me, and for a moment, his face softens into a look of sympathy. He gives me a small smile, completely devoid of its usual smugness, and then Piper Delanco, our District 12 escort, speaks into the microphone, calling for our attention.
I look up at her with wide eyes, this year being no different from any other. While the rest of us wear clothing washed to threads, she's bedecked in a crazy ensemble, accompanied by an even stranger wig. This year it's purple, but a soft purple, more like the color of lavender. Piper parades around the stage in high heels, getting everyone in order and ready for the Reaping. Our mayor, Mayor Undersee, looks worried, and frankly, I can't blame him. This year his son, a twelve year old like me, is in the Reaping, and let's just say, his chances aren't good.
At exactly 2:00, Mayor Undersee walks up to the podium and begins his required spiel on the history of Panem. He speaks of a country that rose from the ashes of what was once known as North America. I listen in silence along with the others as he reads off the disasters and wars that ravished our world and resulted in Panem, a Capitol encompassed by thirteen districts. He then recalls the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts again the Capitol. Thirteen districts became twelve when the thirteenth was destroyed in the war. The Treaty of Treason ended it and gave us a new way of life to guarantee peace and tranquility, and in exchange for this peace and tranquility, we got the Hunger Games, which also serve as a reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated.
The Hunger Games, while extremely inhumane, is surprisingly simple. Each year, every district has to present one girl and one boy tribute, as punishment for the uprising. The tributes are decided by a drawing on Reaping Day, which happens once a year. Each year your name goes in once, but for people who are, say, starving, you can opt to sign up for tesserae for each person in your family. Each time you sign up, your name goes into the Reaping bowl another time. For example, my brother Haymitch has his name in the Reaping Bowl 21 times because each year he has signed up for tesserae for him, me, and our mother, Eve.
Every year two tributes from each district, a boy and a girl, travel to the Capitol and are imprisoned in an outdoor area, which could contain anything from a barren wasteland to a frozen tundra, where they will fight to the death. The last tribute alive wins the Hunger Games and gets to return to their district and live a life of luxury. The Capitol treats the Hunger Games like a festivity, forcing everyone to watch it, and showering the winner's district with prizes, such as food, for an entire year. One of the worst parts is that the winners are almost always from the first four districts because they always seemed to be better fed and able to fight and survive better than the tributes from the outer districts.
This year is a little different from the rest. This is the fiftieth Hunger Games, which means something special will happen called a Quarter Quell. Every twenty five years there is a Quarter Quell, which adds something different and horrifying to the Hunger Games. There has only been one Quarter Quell in history, and it required that the people of each district choose their tributes. That year, to no one's surprise, someone from District One won the Hunger Games. I can only imagine what horrors will be waiting for us this Quarter Quell.
Mayor Undersee now reads off the list of victors of District Twelve. In all the history of the games, there has only been one winner from District Twelve, Phineas McCormick, who now mentors the District Twelve tributes and lives in a luxurious house in the Victor's Village, a beautiful area of town filled with large houses for those who win the Hunger Games. Phineas walks across the stage good naturedly, and sits in a chair situated between Piper Delanco and Mayor Undersee. His skin has a faint yellow hue to it, and I can't help but wonder if the rumors of him being addicted to morphine are true. The thought sickens me every time I see someone dying in pain or screaming from whipping lashes, sicknesses, or burns from explosions in the coal mines.
I look back up at the stage as the crowd gives a weak, small hearted applause as Piper Delanco stands up, purple wig and all, and starts for the Reaping bowl. It's a large glass bowl, filled to the brim with children's names. Again I think of the 21 slips of paper with Haymitch's name on them and give a slight shudder. As if he can read my mind, he looks over at me and smiles knowingly.
At the sign of Piper's voice I turn away. "Ladies and gentlemen," she says, her voice ringing out through the silent crowd. "As you are all aware, this year is a quarter quell. Isn't it just exciting?" She gives a little squeal, barely containing her excitement as she produces an envelope from out of nowhere. "In my hand here, I have the next daring adventure this year's lucky tributes will get to embark on. Now who's ready?"
Piper gently pries the slightly yellowed envelope open with her intricate fingernails and wets her lips before booming out, "Ladies and gentlemen, in honor of the fiftieth annual Hunger Games, and as a reminder that the dark days should never be repeated, this year each district," she pauses dramatically, "will send twice as many male and female tributes."
The crowd gasps in shock and enraged voices shout their outrage. Piper attempts to settle everyone down, but only succeeds in angering them more. Seeing no other way to fix this, she totters over to the girl's reaping bowl and wastes no time in drawing and reading off a name. "And our first tribute to represent District 12 is-"
"Maysilee Donner!"
My eyes search the crowd for the poor girl chosen. When I see her, I gasp. She looks to be about seventeen and she's incredibly beautiful. She has long wavy brown hair that perfectly complements her green eyes and olive skin. Her small face is pinched tight with worry as she comes forward, shaking with fear. I hear a girl, probably her sister or best friend, burst out in tears, but she doesn't step forward and volunteer. You may love your family, but not many are will to die to save their siblings.
I watch the tears course down Maysilee's face as she makes her way over and ascends the stairs to the stage. She hesitantly walks over to Piper, all the while her hands are clenched into tight fists and she looks seconds away from a full blown panic attack.
Seeming to understand Maysilee's panic, Piper gives her a smile and hastens to draw another name. I barely have time to cross my fingers together in good luck before she's drawn a name and is wetting her lips, about to read it off. Aisly's hand snakes its way into mine, giving it a slight squeeze just as Piper says, "And our next tribute who will be joining Maysilee in the arena is – Lily Abernathy."
