CHAPTER 1
''Marissa? Marissa? MARISSA?''. I would have recognised her face from a mile, but I didn't have too - she was only the other side of the square. As I was stood near the middle, she was 100 meters away at the most. Her long black hair tied behind her back, and her mint coloured dress brought the colour in her sea green eyes. I started to push past the people in the crowd, my heart beating so fast I was sure that the whole of district 12 could here it. It go faster, pounding so hard it hurt. Screaming sounds were coming from somewhere in the crowd, and it took me a minute to realise they were my own, escaping my lips without warning, repeating the same word over, and over, and over again. Marissa. My Marissa. Starting to run, I realised that people where parting to let me through ,almost like a tunnel, and at the end of, instead of light, was her. With each step I took, her features became more clear; the freckles on her face, the long lashes that framed her eyes, the tears that formed in her eyes. Hastening my pace, I began to full on sprint, my legs pounding on the worn paves on the ground, my screams borderline hysterical - I was so close, I could almost touch her face if I stretched out, but then I felt something pulling me back, dragging me away from my Marissa, away from the only person who ever truly loved me into reality. Dragging me away from my dreams, straight into the nightmare of my life.
Opening my eyes is the worst part of my day. Parting me from the people I dream of, each one the most precious thing I have. Had. Although the dreams are somewhat traumatic they are considerably better than the slog of my current life.
''Haymitch. Haymitch? ''I looked up from my pillow and into the eyes of Salli.
''Im guessing by your screams it was Marissa that you dreamed of last night.'' She says it as if she understands, and for all I know she could have dreams like this, but I wouldn't know as I never bother to ask. Slowly I began to nod my head, then more vigorously until there was no point trying to stop them coming because no amount of shaking or distracting was going to stop them leaking today. Floods of tears dripped onto the bed, mixed in with screams and cries of pain. Salli sat down on the bed beside me and stroked the hair of my face while I sobbed.
''Marissa's are always the worst'', she says, ''aren't they. All the dreams I have are hard, - Mother, Luke… Marissa. Each one the same, me running, shrieking, reaching for them and then being forced back in my room in Victors Village. You would think I would think I would hate my dreams, but I can't even contemplate hating anything if it has my family involved. Apart from there death, that is. I hate that. But, yes, Salli is right. Marissa;s dreams are always the hardest to wake up from. But then again, why am I surprised? Salli seems to be always right.
'' Come on, big day today. First reaping as a mentor. It'll be nice to have some company this year, rather than on me own.'' I know what she means. It must be hell mentoring all the kids on your own, watching then die on your own, I don't know how Salli does it, I mean, she's what, 65 now? To be honest I don't know how Im going to do it either.
The clock hits two and any person whispering in the crowd falls silent. Mr. Magony, the mayor steps up and reads the history of Panem, the same way he does every signal year. He yabbers on about the rebellion and the destruction of district 13 for about 5 minutes. He then moves on to talking about the reason we are all gathered here. The Hunger Games. It is safe to say its not a particularly cheery speech. But then the hunger Games aren't a particularly cheery event are they? Getting 24 children, 2 from each district, and shove them in a big arena and make them fight till death- and all televised on live T.V. They do it to remind us that no matter what we try and do the Capitol is completely in power. To remind us that they can pick our innocent children and murder them in their 'Games'. To remind us that another rebellion would be the most stupid idea possible. Because the Capitol are in power. Not us. The thought of it used to make me feel sick. Now it just makes me feel angry. After he has finished his speech he reads out the list of victors, the winners of the games, that have come from District 12. There is usually only one name. Salli Lakeshore. But this year, for the first time, there is another name. My name. Haymith Abernathy. The crowd looks up expectantly at me, and then look down again in disappointment when I keep looking at the floor. Im not in the mood for waving and smiling. I don't think I'll ever be in that kind of mood again. Right on queue, Rosie Layon jumps up on the stage with her ridiculous fake smile in perfect place, her violet suits clashing hideously with her bright yellow hair.
''Happy Hunger Games! How exciting! Two mentors this year for everyone! Now lets get on with the reaping! Who WILL be first?'' Her falseness is so obvious its almost like she wants us to know how much she detests District 12. ''Now remember, may the odds be ever in your favour!'' She reaches into the big bowl of names with mock excitement. After a ridiculous amount of scrabbling around she finally produces a name.
''Michael Wingdale!'' After a few minutes of shuffling and pushing through the crowds of teenagers, A tall boy with blonde hair stands up to the stage. A wave of relief passes through me, as I realise that I don't know him. Rosie repeats the whole fiasco with the girls ball, spending far to long scrabbling inside the bowl. I felt like screaming at to just pick a name, for heavens sake. Finally she pulled out a slip of paper, and reads out the name in a calm voice.
'' Mary Wolcott''. I felt my insides crashing down, and a mound of anger slowly rising . Mary Wolcott was my old neighbour. Mary Wolcott was the one person who I promised Marissa I would look after when she was dying. In fact, it was her dying wish. Her dying wish was for me to look out for her little sister.