"MMM UP UP!" Mum shouted down the hall. I moaned, flipping onto my back. It suddenly dawned on me it was the reaping today. We hadn't had a victor in 25 years and that Hunger Games didn't even complete. Poor Beetee Flickers.
My name is Hannalise Jones. Being 15, I have a fair chance of being picked to be reaped, but not as bad as District 12. During the rebellion, apparently Beetee tried to cut the Capitol broadcast and show snippets of 12 or Katniss Everdeen. Word says Katniss is happily living with her husband Peeta Mellark, and have a girl called Rue. The conditions there were awful, devastating infact. By the time they were 18, most children have their names in more than 30 times, the lucky few 20+.
My mother survived the Rebellion, she was only 6 but her parents, my grandparents, died, leaving her to a tough child-hood in the orphanage.
Walking downstairs, my mother was watching the 80th Hunger Games, the first of the new kind. Unfair really. The 8 districts that had the most victors throughout the old Hunger Games, therefore entering Districts 1,2,3,4,5,7,9,10. The two 74th Victors had an uprising in their district against this, but the new leader President Paylor reasoned, or more like threatened them with saying if you drop out of this, your district won't be entered, as they had enough victors to qualify, as most of the districts victor's were killed one way or the other. They stood their ground for a while, but slunk back into the shadows, claiming if someone else wants to stop it, they can. Nobody blames them really, they got all the eligible children at that time through without being reaped, until this came back.
I ran over and snatched the remote out of her hands. "What are you doing!" I demanded, throwing it down onto the sofa. She struggled, cringing as a familiar face was shown in the sky. Ah, Gemini Fowler, my mother's best friend. She was 7 during the rebellion, and was 12 when she was reaped. She made it to the final 5, but unfortunately the victor from District 9 poisoned her beef jerky with nightlock berries.
"Why are you watching that?" I ask, dumbfounded. No panic attacks or flashbacks have happened so far, and that was brilliant. I actually got time to carry on building my sewing machine; I'm in need of new clothes.
Squirming underneath my firm hold, she whispered. "Preparing myself for the weeks-" and she stopped. Her eyes began to come cloudy.
"Hang on, Piper." I rushed to the kitchen, rooting round the cabinets. I'm not that close to my mum, so I just call her by name. Panting, I tip a bottle of pills onto the table, snatch one up, fill a glass of water and give to my mum.
Gulping, I perch at the end of the battered yellow couch. "What did you mean? Weeks to come?" I nervously asked. Shaking her head, the clock struck 3. Closer you are to the capitol, later the reaping.
I sigh, running down the hall into my room, picking out my favourite outfit. A cream ruffled top with jet black trousers with a silver belt. The belt was a present from my friend Freya. She is a darling, saving up her wages from her family shop just for a present.
"I want to look nice if I'm going to get reaped." I muttered. The second time the clock struck, I kissed my mother on the forehead. "See you later Piper."
Walking to the square, a familiar face pounced and smothered me. "Whoa, hey Freya." I chuckled, dusting all of the sand off my clothes. "I'm wearing your belt. " I grinned, striking a dazzling pose. She laughed, and suddenly stopped. "It's the reaping; I really don't know why I'm laughing."
I shrugged and put my arm around her shoulders. "Freya, Chill."
She pushed me off, firing back "How can you be so calm in this situation."
"Don't know, watched so many of them with my mum, they don't seem to scare me anymore." I start, but received a 'seriously' look of Freya. "I Fooled you! Seriously, I am scared, just trying to liven things up I guess." Smirking, Freya playfully shoved me as we walked towards the square.
Then, there she was, the famous Yazmin Papperoni, filing her perfectly oval shaped nails and tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for the citizens to file in. With red hair, slighty brown skin and in a green blazer and skirt, she honestly looked like an old flower called a Poppy, which was in battlefields way before the Dark Days. I burst out laughing, receiving stares. Scowling, I went over to a peacekeeper to sign in. I linked arms with Freya and I walked over to the 15 year old section.
After 10 minutes, Yazmin spoke up;
"Welcome Darlings, to the 100th Annual Hunger Games or the 20th new games. Before we begin, is anybody missing?" She exclaims, hissing on the 's. Scanning the audience, she clasps her hands. "Well let's start then our little electricians." She laughs. I snigger with Freya, alongside most of the eligible citizens. She clicks her remote and a screen comes down, blaring the nations anthem and the seal appearing on the screen. Then, Paylor, the 2nd President of Panem, goes through the speech, adding a little about the star-crossed lovers and how they brought freedom for 5 years, then how when conditions became worse, they backed out slowly. Freya sniffs at this, as she loves Katniss and Peeta, and she wants to meet them one day. Paylor's mind is cruel and twisted, as she threatened District 12. The video finishes and the screen slides back up. "Lets get started!" She squeals, walking over to the girls bowl and hovering her hand for a while, before snatching one from the bottom of the pile. Walking back, she says "Ladies first!" and she reads out the name.
Yazmin says something I quite can't catch, and movement occurs in our section. She repeats slowly.
"Hannalise Jones."