Chapter 1: They Call It The Reaping

The trees of... I guess this is called District 7 now, have always been a comfort to me. Even if the constant dark clouds and rain remind me that nothing will ever be the same again.

My name is Fir Yule. I live in District 7. It had another name - Washington State. My hometown actually had a name - Seattle. But both are forbidden now; even to utter them will be punishable by death via the white guards that now patrol our streets. The replacement of the National Guard.

The year is 2020. And a matter of months ago, we were still a free country that was once known as the United States. However, the news media have begun to give this land a new name: Panem.

We lost the Rebellion. District 13 - or what was once called the Northeast - was bombed to smithereens by the Capitol, formerly known as Washington D.C. My parents were some of the fiercest fighters out here in the Western regions. They were killed after the Peacekeepers, those white guards, overran us. 17 years old, and I am now an orphan.

And apparently about to watch something historic, as we all gather in front of the Town Hall that has since been re-named the Justice Building.

So many new names. It will take some time to remember them all correctly. I wonder if I should change my name.

The rumors about today have been whirling. They say two kids will be selected for some kind of competition, kind of akin to the Olympics that were held every four years until recently. Except this competition is called the Hunger Games. We don't know what it involves. Only that it will serve as a kind of punishment for the districts rising up. Their children sent to the nexus of power to do... what?

"I heard that it's a fight to the death," I eavesdrop on one neighbor as I stand in the thronging crowd filled with confusion.

"Trump's gone mad this time," another mutters darkly.

"Haven't you heard? Trump is dead! The CIA assassinated him, but the media wouldn't report it for the longest time. Mike Pence is the President now. He's suspended all elections! Fucking Christo-Fascist!"

"So, what say does Pence have in this whole Hunger Games thing?"

"Hush up, asshole. Here comes Mayor Murray."

Mayor Ed Murray now takes the stone podium and reads a brand new speech. He titles it the Dark Days speech, which as we listen, chronicles the failed Rebellion that is still very fresh in our minds. "... this is how we safeguard our future," he finishes.

Yeah, what future?

Then a woman with the most ridiculous hair and makeup I've ever seen comes bounding up onstage after Mayor Murray. "My name is Candace Earring. Happy Hunger Games everyone, for the first time ever! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Odds? What does that mean?

Two glass balls filled with slips of paper are suddenly presented before Candace. She steps up to the one at her right. Well, really my right, and plucks out one slip.

"Fir Yule!"

A girl's name. My name. Oh, shit.

As I take the stage nervously, I begin to stew with anger. My selection was no accident. It had to have been rigged! Candace then moves on to the bowl at her left, which I guess must hold the boys' names.

"Ewan Banyan!"

Poor Ewan. He's only fourteen years old, and his parents were good friends and kindred rebel spirits with my parents. Candace makes us shake hands, before announcing, "The tributes for District 7!"

Tributes? Tributes for what? What does that mean?

I am escorted into the Justice Building and separated from Ewan, locked in my own private ornate room. "We will let visitors in on a five-minute basis," a Peacekeeper has the decency to tell me.

Visitors? With my parents dead, I don't know how many people will come to visit me. Maybe a few friends. But no sooner have I been locked in than someone is let past the door to join me.

Of course. Matthew Hemlock is my age, a classmate in school. He is one of the closest things I have to a friend, and the smartest kind in this whole... district. He wants to be a carpenter, lumberjack - any and all things which involve the tall redwood trees that District 7 is now responsible for. He bravely pulls me into a hug.

"You can win, Fir," he promises.

"Win what?" I stare up into his face. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to win!"

"Fir, they say this competition or whatever it is - it's dangerous! There are rumors that people are going to die in this tournament. All except for one. Dead children, Fir! You have to be the one who lives, if the rumors are true!"

I gulp. Death? "I'm not ready for this, Matthew."

"You don't have a choice. Just come home. The winner. Whatever you have to do to get that title. Come home. And whatever happens... please remember me."

I smile gently at the awkward nerd standing before me. "I could never forget you."

"Fir... I..." And Matthew looks like he wants to say something important.

"Yes?" I ask sweetly.

But he only shakes his head with a sad smile. "Go. Go! And remember what I said." He suddenly pecks my cheek with his lips and turns on his heel so I can't see him cry.

I touch my palm to my cheek where he kissed me, bewildered. What just happened? But I wait many more minutes and no one else comes. Not until Candace fetches me, and we join Ewan. We board a train, which is exciting. Transportation outside of the district has been banned for many months since the uprisings started, so this is kind of exciting.

Except there is a strong chance, if the rumors are true, that I will never see District 7 again.