My ragged doll sits there. Stares at me. In the moonlight, it's multicoloured button eyes focus steadily on me. One is near falling off. It's bare, wearing nothing and has no hair at all. A naked body with a bald head. Only those button eyes.
A white blur distracts me and it attacks the button eyes, digging it's teeth into the doll's arm. Coraline, my fluffy ball of white. She hisses one last time at my worthless doll I seem to always keep, and jumps onto the side of my bed. I realize I'm sitting up. I've been thinking about that doll for so long, I forgot about sleeping. My eyes twitch, and fall as heavy as metal and shut me out of reality.
In my dreams, I hear myself whispering,
"No…please, not me…No," I am surrounded by people, hearing the voices loud and clear in my head, continuously and desperately murmuring to themselves to persuade themselves it's not them. But it's got to be one of them.
My vision blurred, as a dream is, I can only hear. I hear the footsteps as Effie Trinket walks towards the bowls and snatches up a piece of paper. The unfolding is sonorous. I listen to Effie's lips parting to say the name. Say it. Say the name.
"Katniss Everdeen," Effie whispers. But the whisper is repeating. Again and again. My bones have not relaxed. My bones have stiffened. The whisper of my friend's name is crisp and clear, screeching in my ear.
I can't save her.
She's been my friend for almost forever. But I won't save her. I can't. I stumble and trip over the girl next to me's expensive, mint green dress. She gasps and I fall to the ground.
Then I wake up, and breathe a sigh of relief. It's not real. It'll never happen. My mother, the lovely Nadia Undersee will know the answer. She knows things, unlike my father, the Mayor of District Twelve, Len Undersee. My father is too down to earth and is quite unentertaining, but is loving at heart. I, Madge Undersee just seems to hang around the house, not knowing what to do, not knowing how to speak, and asking my mother questions about everything. I am a great pianist, as my parents say, and I just love listening to music.
My mother steps in, and realizes I am awake. Absolutely awake in fact. It would be shocking if someone was still sound asleep before the day of the reaping. Where your fate could be announced. Where you could know your life is over. Where you could fight in the Hunger games and know the whole time you would never survive.
I couldn't imagine my name being picked out of the draw. I just couldn't, but I kept on fearing that it would, because it was possible. My name was in there once, and I had only a slim chance, but a slim chance is still a chance.
My mother helps me get dressed. She does my hair in a neat, braided bun. My blond hair is thin and my eyes are faded blue. My skin is pale. I haven't been outside as much as others. They have to work so hard to survive, while I lie in this luxury in being the mayor's daughter. My mother brings in an expensive looking white dress, which hangs down to just to hide my knees. The upper half of the dress is simple, then there is the lace collar that spreads to cover my shoulders and my collarbone. The lace runs all the way down my back and stops where the skirt begins, so that lace covers my back and silky material covers my front. I feel a bit exposed, but I guess people will be expecting the exact thing from the mayor's wealthy daughter.
Coraline, my cat with a squashed face but a lovable personality, jumps into my arms and I carry her downstairs to the kitchen. The light is flickering on and off, annoying Coraline and causing her to hiss. My mother makes my breakfast and I eat, tiny bites at a time. The reaping is today. The reaping is today. The reaping is today.
And I'm dressing up for it, just incase I get sent to the Capitol, into the arena where I have to fight 23 other tributes.
Every year, the country of Panem holds something called the 'Hunger Games'. A boy and a girl is picked from each district. They are called the 'tributes' of the district. No one wants to be them. They are thrown into an arena to fight against one another. The last one surviving wins the games. It is sickening, this idea, but it is right. As my father says. The reason of this terrible event is that there used to be thirteen districts altogether. District thirteen was rebellious and brave, and decided to take a step forward and tell the capitol their opinions. As a result, their district was destroyed. Nothing, nothing at all, was left except for their land.
As a punishment, the Hunger Games were held. The capitol believes this is the way to show us that they're in charge, that they are the ones in control and that they can never be taken down by any rebellious people having an urge to cross the line.
Show respect to the Capitol, they say.
I let these thoughts run through my mind. I always have this question that I ask myself, that I never answer. Do I believe the Capitol is trying to help us? Do I think that they are good, or do I think they're evil?
Both my parents believe that President Snow, President of Panem, is a good man. How come I can't just take their path and believe that too? Make it my opinion?
I still can't answer it, so I shouldn't.
When everything is set, I hear the doorbell ring. My father on the phone and my mother complaining about no more strawberries. I guess I'm the only one free to answer the door. I stand up and head towards the door. My hand clasps around the door handle and swings it open. Katniss. Katniss Everdeen.