There's a girl in the mirror, smiling back at me. She brushes her dark hair back with a crystal handled comb and ties her chestnut locks back with a white ribbon.
The girl in the mirror is radiant. Beautiful, as some might say. She has the perfect life. Loving family, stunning good looks, the popularity, intelligence, and the world is in the palm of her hand.
I stare at the girl in the mirror. She's perfect, I think. She's nothing like me. While I may think we look alike, we could never be more different.
Mirror Annie is just a figment of my imagination, she's the girl I'd much rather be.
I envy Mirror Annie. She must not have anything to worry about at all. It's funny, really. She's my own mental creation, so why shouldn't I just make her miserable? I can do whatever I want in my mind. But no, I don't. Because if one Annie has to be upset, I'd rather that the other one would be happy.
I stare back at Mirror Annie, quietly criticising her for being do selfishly perfect. I guess it's my own fault. I'm the only one in control of my life. Everyone else… They just ignore me.
I never liked dressing up. I still don't. Most fourteen year old girls care about their looks more than anything, but I don't see the point. There's no point in pretending you're perfect when we all know what a monster you are inside.
Nevertheless, I have to look presentable for the Reaping. My mother is making me wear one of her old white dresses. The hemline hits my knees and the sleeves come up to my elbows. The bodice is a bit close fitting and the skirt is very flat and plain. But it will just have to do.
Everything is black and white. Except for my eyes, which always seem to attract more attention than I like, and not in the way I'd hope for. They're an electrifying blue, a rather pleasant colour. They're the only thing I really like about myself. The other girls think they're freaky looking and people always ask if they're real. Of course they're real, why wouldn't they be? I usually reply. Blue and green eyes are common in District 4, but not usually in such bright shades. You'd hope thst everyone would admire you for them, and for most people that is the case, but for plain old Annie Cresta, that just makes her more of a freak than she already was.
I walk to the town square by myself, ignoring the rude stares I always get from my neighbours. They criticise me for not being as enthusiastic about the Games, they all think I'm a bad influence on their children, with my constant debates in class. People don't like it when children stand up for themselves. I stand in the third row with the other girls, trying to ignore their whispers and giggles. It's not that easy when you know they're making fun of you.
Our escort is overly perky, as most people from the Capitol usually are. She rambles on and on about the history of Panem, the honour of getting selected, and so on. I tune out, quite annoyed with the Capitol for forcing this upon us. I have nothing to worry about anyways, they'll never pick me. I feel a girl behind me giving a shove. Everyone is staring. "Annie Cresta?" The escort repeats in her high pitched voice. "Come on, sweetheart. We're not going to bite." They said my name. My name. The girl gives me another forceful shove and I walk to the stage with my head down. It's bad enough that people already look at me everyday with criticism.
No one volunteers for me. I don't know anyone who would even.
But now they must have already starting betting what it'll take to destroy me. Another name is called and a boy steps forward. Axel Worthington, a boy from my school, several years older than me. He's 16, much bigger and bulkier than me, but not too intimidating. He's extremely broad, but he looks strong. He still looks like her could snap off my head in a second. I'm not going to win, everyone already knows this.