Don't Judge a Book by its Cover
Chapter One:
I stand there, frozen to the spot, listening for that unlucky name. The District 6 escort reads it out but I don't hear it, I suddenly realise that everyone around me is staring at me, I hear my little sister scream, then I realise that its me, I am going to the Hunger Games.
I take a deep breath and compose my self, "Come on up Exodus Siclet," says our escort, "We haven't got all day," she says a bit more impatiently. I try to take a step forwards but its just to much, my body crumples to the ground and everything goes black.
When I come around I'm laying on a velvet couch in one of the prettiest rooms I have ever seen. Reality quickly hits me and I realise that this is the goodbyes room, I don't want to say goodbye, not yet. My parents and little sister suddenly burst through the large mahogany doors, faces stained with tears, just looking at them sends streams of tears pouring down my cheeks, we all embrace and my mum says, "Your small and quick Exodus maybe you have a chance," I look at her face and she looks doubtful but hopeful which gives me hope, but my hope is short lived and my dad just laughs and says, "Give up the act dear, we both know full well that we are never going to see Exodus again, no offence but he is only twelve and he you must know that he won't stand a chance against the careers." I feel a little offended but I know that he is right. We hug some more and then the Peacekeepers come and split us apart.
I don't get any more visitors and so I am escorted to the train, which is breath taking. As we push through the crowds of reporters I manage to glance up at a screen which shows a close up of my face and I notice that you can clearly see the fear in my big blue eyes.
When we finally make it onto the magnificent train I am roughly pushed into a dining carriage where our mentor and escort sit waiting.
"Ah, you are finally here," our escort says in her nauseating accent, "About time you arrived," our depressing mentor mumbles.
"We can't start without our female tribute!" Our escort chimes and then adds a small laugh that make me cringe.
Our mentor, who's name still escapes me, checks his watch and rolls his eyes, "It's already late, we can start tomorrow," he grumbles before giving me a dismissive nod and receiving a grateful smile in return, I really couldn't stand to be in that sickening woman's presence for much longer.