Before I begin, I'd like to say that all reviews are welcomed and loved. Thank you!
Today is the day of the reaping for the 100th annual Hunger Games. It's the fourth Quarter Quell, and it's going to be so damn brutal. The last Quell didn't go so well - what with Plutarch betraying the rebels and getting killed for it anyway - but I wasn't even alive then, it's all in the past. Apparently the games continued as normal (although all the rebels were killed, and I have my suspicions that Snow would have killed Katniss, Peeta and Johanna even if they had won), and Finnick Odair came home triumphant. I can definitely confirm this fact, as he now lives in our Victors Village with his wife Annie and their two kids, Shauna and Alex. Both are definitely old enough to leave, but you can tell Finnick and Annie want them to stay in their beautiful home.
Anyway, this year is going to be extra special. President Akar, who took over Snow when he passed away, announced that the tributes would be reaped in couples - the Capitol seem to know everything about us all. So there will be four tributes from each this district this year, amounting to 48 tributes in the arena; yikes. At least both the girl and the boy can win together though, if they both make it that far. Which, to be honest, is highly unlikely. Very highly unlikely.
My mother is shouting at me now, asking if I have had my bath yet.
"Yes mother!" I shout, running downstairs in my nightgown. She smiles at me softly, grey-tinged-brown hair tied back in a neat fishtail braid. It frames her petite, angular face; a face that matches her small and fragile physique. Poor woman used to be strong and fast like me, but she lost all of that when my idiotic father let for a talking blob named Laureli.
Now she is thrusting a beautiful black dress in my face, with lace and jewels to adorn. It's the kind of get-up you can only ever wear for occasions, something so fancy that you would look silly wearing it casually, and the reaping day is that spectacular occasion. Jokes on the spectacular, of course.
"Here, Caileen love, it's all yours." she chirps at me, blue eyes twinkling kindly. I'm sure she's staying positive to reassure me, but it's honestly not working. If anything, it makes me upset to think I might loose her. Even so, I shoot back a small grin to hopefully hide my grief, grabbing the over-decorated dress and running to my room to change. On this particular day, this only takes a few seconds, and when I am finished I hear my mother knock gently and let her in.
"Gorgeous, darling!" she exclaims, whilst pushing me towards my mirror. "Just let me do your hair before Alias get's here!" she says, sitting me in front of the reflective glass so I have no time to even thank her. As I look into this mirror, I cheer up a little. Mother is styling my hair into a fishtail braid, similar to hers in many ways, including colour. Well, actually, I think you will find my hair has a lot less grey than hers.
People say we look extremely alike, and it's true. I am small and slight like her, but with hidden strength in my lean muscles, and our faces follow the same angular shape. The only thing different about my mother and I (appearance-wise, of course), are our eyes - hers are a deep blue, whilst mine glitter a gentle emerald colour. Personality-wise? Well, lets just say my mother is a lot brighter than I am, ever have, or ever will be.
When mother has finished, a knock on the door signals Alias's arrival. Alias is my boyfriend, and he insisted to take me to the reaping. He's a large and muscular guy with high self-esteem and a pretty shallow heart: to be honest I'm on the verge of telling him to go stop being an idiot and find himself a new girlfriend. Just not today, for today not even Alias should feel grumpy and miserable. Well... only just.
I open the door to see him staring at me like those stone statues we have of President Snow, a ton of dark curls falling in front of his hazel eyes. The steps are slippery underneath my black lace-up boots, and he takes my hand as I descend. This hand of his is large and clammy, a hand I would quite gladly not be holding. Mother follows and locks the door behind us, glaring at me as if to say to be more polite when she sees my un-impressed expression. Alias looks at me with a poker-face and begins to talk with a rugged voice.
"Hey gorgeous," he starts, flicking a stray hair behind my ear, "I got you some fish, it's the kind you like from The South River." he finishes, handing me a smoked fillet. I thank him with an attempt at a smile and don't mention that it's actually the Eastern fish that I like. The rest of the walk is boring talk about how District 1 is developing a new luxury for The Capitol, mother butting in and exchanging news of fish breeding in The North River. It's a boring and strenuous walk to the town square - a place graced by sea breeze that will host the choosing of my destiny.
