Today was the day. This was the moment I had prepared for years for. Reaping Day. Here in District 2, where I had lived and trained my whole life, this was my job, or career. Basically my entire life had consisted of putting myself into the state of mind of a killer. I had trained with every weapon imaginable, a sword being my weapon of choice. Now I would get my chance to bring in the glory for my district. This was my time. I walked down, along with my family, to where the Reaping would take place. My mother was nearly reduced to tears, my father having been in my same place in the 57th Hunger Games when he was 18. Except we're not entirely in the same place. He was placed into the Games against his will, like most tributes, to fight against the 23 other tributes from the 12 districts, including one from our own district. He was forced to leave my pregnant mother alone and afraid. When he died in the Games, she had promised herself to never let her son be put into training to become a murderer. "It's sick," she had said, "these people walking around with blood on their hands, and yet no shame in their hearts. How?" It took a lot to convince her, but when I was very young, I felt obligated, as of it were destiny, to begin training for the same Games that took my father. I told my mother that I wanted to avenge him, in some way. That I would kill at least 1 of the tributes from the district that the girl who killed my father was from. District 12. I would kill them. I had to. For my mother. No, for my father. I lunged forward desperately, with this thought in my head, and unaware of anything else in that moment except the sound of myself screaming, "I VOLUNTEER AS DISTRICT 2 TRIBUTE!"


"It'll be alright, I promise," I tell my little sister, Prim, in an attempt to console her. This would be her first year having to face possible death. I knew how tough it was for her to even consider it, even with her name only in the Reaping once. I had to admit I was scared too, terrified, really, but for more than one reason. I feared for Prim and how the Games would destroy the sweetness in her, but I also feared for my best friend, Gale, with his name in the Reaping 42 times. I didn't really doubt his skill or chances at winning if his name were to be called, but it would be hard, just like for Prim, to face the possibility of losing him. Lastly, and most selfish, I feared for myself. I knew that Prim also felt the same. What would become of my mother and sister if I should die in the arena? Being their primary source of food, I was sure if I was picked as tribute, I would be responsible, eventually, for their deaths. Both of them. I loved them too much to think about that. I had returned from hunting a couple of hours ago, to come home and find a beautiful dress laid out just for me, just for Reaping Day. Gotta look fancy just in case your name gets called to head off to the slaughter. After I got dressed and my mother braided my hair in an elaborate updo, the three of us began walking towards the Reaping. I held my sister's hand, far too aware of the sweat dampening her palms. We were split up by age group, but I swore to myself we wouldn't be split up again after that point. Then, the moment of truth came, and I wish I could've been the moment of a lie, much easier if you ask me. "Primrose Everdeen." I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I didn't know what I wanted to do. I only knew of the numbness covering me, and the desperation slowly overtaking me. I had to do something. I saw my little sister, hesitantly, making her way towards the stage. Towards the woman, Effie Trinkett, who had just called her name as if it wouldn't completely change our family forever. I ran out of the confines of my age group, shouting out for them to take me instead. Not my little sister. "I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER FOR DISTRICT 12" I screamed at the top of my lungs as if it were life or death, because it was.