The 61st Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 1

Fish. That's all I smell, in fact that's all I can ever smell here. District 4, what a place to live. Growing up here I have always wished I could live somewhere else. I hate the ocean, I hate the people, but the worst is the forever-lingering smell of fish. That's all anyone ever talks about. You go to school and they teach you about the history of fish, you go to work and you catch fish, then you come home and you eat fish. I swear, I am 17 years old and I must have eaten more fish than any other type of food combined. Someday I hope to get out of here, but considering that's pretty much impossible in Panem, I am forever doomed to eating, smelling, catching, and learning about fish.

"Meena, are you getting ready? We have to get down to town square in only a few hours" my mother yells. Oh yeah I forgot to mention I am also named after a fish. Most people here are named after some kind of sea life. Meena isn't even a good tasting fish; I honestly think it is revolting.

"Yeah, almost ready." All morning I have been getting ready for the Reaping. I honestly am not too worried about it. My family isn't so poor that I have to put my name in extra times for provisions so I think I am going to be fine. Usually its one of the kids from the slums, and they don't last very long. Here in District 4 we have had a few winners but typically it goes to the Careers in Districts 1 or 2.

I look in the mirror and see myself like any other day. Tan skin, curly brown hair, brown eyes, and freckles dotting my face. My light blue dress clings to my slim figure. I have worn this dress the past few years and now, being 5'6", it no longer fits correctly. I don't really care though, I am not going to waste money on buying a dress to wear once a year that I won't even need after next year. I am more of the t-shirt, jeans and hair up in a bun type of girl.

I walk down the hall and see my parents talking while cooking some kind of fish stew in a pot over the fireplace. Our house isn't very big, but I think its perfect. I am an only child so I get my own room, though it is quite small, I think it's true intention is to be a closet or pantry of some sorts. Our kitchen is also small but I don't mind, just means more quality time with my parents. They are honestly great. My mom works at the school as a net weaving instructor, and my father is a fisherman. When I see my mother I am always reminded that I am her daughter just by our looks. I look almost exactly like her, with the exception being that she has deep blue eyes. My father on the other hand is much more tanned than we are, just because he is out in the sun all day fishing. He has sun bleached hair, brown eyes, and is 6'4".

"Want some stew?" my father asks

"No thanks I am good." I reply

"You sure? I caught these this morning and we added some clams in there too." I just shake my head and sit down at our small table in the corner. Our little table is on its way out. We have had it as long as I can remember. It doesn't help that everything rusts so quickly here due to the salt water. My family lives pretty close to the beach so when a big storm comes in our little house often gets a little bit of flooding. When that happens we tie everything of value up in a tarp and tie it to the ceiling. My best friend, Shelly, lives farther up in a nicer area so her family usually lets us stay there until the storm passes.

"We have to get down to Town Square soon. The Reaping starts in an hour and a half." My father says while eating his stew.

"Yeah I'll just head down there now. You guys finish breakfast and meet me there." I say back

"Are you nervous?" he says

"Not really, my name is only in there 6 times." I say while walking out the door "Love you guys! See you soon!"

I start walking down the sandy paths towards Town Square. I have about a 5-minute walk. I mindlessly walk there, passing Victors Village on my way. There is only one house occupied there, and that's Mags Flanagan. She won the 11th Hunger Games, at the age of sixteen. Mags is our only Victor here, but everyone loves her. She often goes to the market and will buy fish or bread then hand it out to the poorer people. Whenever a child loses their parent in a fishing accident she will always make sure they are taken care of until they can take care of themselves. I have only met her in person once, at the market, but I have never met a kinder person than her.

"Meena!" I hear a girl shout. I look ahead and see my best friend Shelly just about to get in line at the Reaping. Shelly is one of the richer people here and you can tell. She is wearing a dark blue dress with tiny waves at the bottom. Her blond hair is tied up in what looks like a maze of hair at the top of her head. And gems adorn her ears. She has ice blue eyes that stand out against her tan skin. All the guys at school love her. What I like about her though is that she doesn't act like she is rich. She never mentions money, and tries not to let anyone know of her wealth. I run up to her and give her a hug.

"Hey, How've you been?" I say

"Good, just looking forward to this being over. I hate the Reaping every year I can't sleep the night before because I get so nervous that they will pick my name. And I know its not realistic because all those other kids have there names in dozens of times, but you know, I always still wonder. I am glad this is my last year." She says while visibly shaking.

"I am sure we will be fine." I reply as we reach the peacekeepers. They prick our fingers and sign us in. We then head off to our sections.

"Hey want to head down to the beach later? Some people are going to be having a post Reaping party down there." I ask shelly as she heads towards the section for 18 year olds.

"Yeah sure. Meet me by Barnacles Bakery after." She says while disappearing into the crowd.

The whole signing in process took about 20 minutes so the show will start soon. The Reaping is awful. Honestly, what kind of leader makes kids go fight to the death? Last year both of the tributes were 12 years old and died within the first day. I knew one of them too. My mom works with the boy tributes mother. They would come over sometimes if they really needed food. My parents always tried to help. We were watching the games together when he died. The scream that his mother made as an arrow plunged through his back was something I will never forget. The sound of a mother mourning over her young son is bone chilling. My mother tried to comfort her but how can you comfort someone when they had just seen something like that. When the kids are reaped there parents always have a small bit of hope that they will make it but most of them time that doesn't happen. For weeks after the incident my mother looked at me like I was the most valuable thing in the world. I knew if I was ever reaped it would literally break her.

I look up to the stage and see the Peacekeepers setting up a few chairs. Two for the Mayor and his wife, and one for Mags. After another 10 minutes I see everyone start to get on stage. Must be time. The mayor, his wife, and Mags all sit down then Clementine walks on stage. Clementine is District 4's very own escort. She looks like you might think. She really takes her name all too seriously when it comes to fashion. She has on an orange poufy dress, Orange High heels, and blondish-orange hair with a hat that looks to possibly be made of clementines. Also, when the sun hits her skin you can see it sparkle orange. Honestly, who comes up with these things? The Capitol's fashion sense is a joke.

"Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the 61st Annual Hunger Games Reaping! I hope you are all as excited as I am for this Great event! Before the main event we will be showing a video most of you have seen. So lets get right to it!" She says in her high-pitched Capitol accent. The video starts playing. I have seen this for pretty much every year since I have been born. It just says how President Snow is perfect, and how the Hunger games are Necessary to keep the peace. Its all a load of bull shit if you ask me. Personally I would have a lot more respect for the guy if he didn't make my neighbors fight to the death, but whatever. The video Finishes and she resumes her speech.

"Okay now down to the best part. Who will this years District 4 Tributes be? As always, ladies first. She struts over to the class bowl filled with thousands of tiny sheets of paper with people's names on them, including mine. Her hand dives down into the bowl and she swirls around the names until dramatically taking one out. She looks down at the paper, unfolds it then screeches the name out in her Capitol Accent "Meeka Cooke"

My insides feel as if they have been liquefied. I think I may puke. I hear a scream come from the back of the crowd that must be my mothers. Slowly all the other kids turn their heads towards me. Instantly my mind starts racing. "Don't look afraid, be confident, start walking, and don't cry." I think, as my feet start moving towards the stage. I hold my head high and start walking up the stairs onto the wooden stage. Clementine walks over to me and hugs me; my nose is instantly filled with the smell of oranges, which is only making me more nauseous.

"Hello darling, how are you?" She asks looking thrilled. How am I? How could she ask that? Does she not understand I have just been sentenced to a certain, and violent death? I hold back the punch that I want to throw her way and say into the microphone "I'm okay I guess." She smiles at me and turns her attention to the other glass bowl on the stage. Her heels clack as she walks towards it. She then replicates the way she chose the female tributes name, my name. She reads out the name "Melvin Hewitt". I have no idea who that is. I have never heard that name in my life and when I see him I know why. We have an age gap, and he is definitely from the slums by the look of his tattered clothes. He comes out of the 14-year-old boy section and walks up to the stage, tears silently rolling down his pale cheeks. His hair is long and bright red. Not a good thing considering where we are going. He is what people call a ginger. His skin is extremely white, freckles covering his whole body, and he is extremely thin. I know as soon as I see him that if needed I would be able to take him on in a fight. He walks up on stage sobbing and when Clementine asks how he is he cant even reply because of the amount of tears. I look at him with sorrow in my eyes; I know he won't last long. Just by the way he carries himself, I can tell he will most likely be picked off in the beginning. One thing I do know is that I cannot breakdown like him. People think the Games start when the timer runs out, but they're wrong. The Games start as soon as your name is chosen out of that bowl.

Authors Note: Hi everyone, hope you like the first chapter. I hope to get at least 2 chapters out a day (no idea how many there will be). If you see any typos are any room from improvement writing wise please let me know! The next chapter will be out soon :) Thanks for reading.