I stare at my reflection in the mirror; meeting my own startling grey eyes in the mirror. I fasten the clasp of the Mockingjay pin that sits neatly on the collar of my pretty paisley dress. My blonde hair has been attacked; primped and curled into submission. It is not Reaping Day-but it is a special day. The Announcement of the Quarter Quell.
Three hours later, Mariah and I sit in adjoining chairs in the school hall. As the Announcement is a mandatory programming, the public tend to watch it together. Mariah sits exactly the way I do; ankles crossed, back straight and hands poised neatly on her knees. We would look almost symmetrical; if not for my startling grey eyes and her blue dress she is currently wearing. She leans across and snatches my hand, enveloping one in her icy hands.
"You okay?" She asks hesitantly as an old TV is rolled in to the room. The room is abuzz with conversation: but the feeling of uncertainty lingers. "Yeah, sure," I sigh. "Why wouldn't I be?" That question seems to answer itself: the very reason I sit in this hall. Mariah temporarily drops my hand as Brian Undersee slips into a seat behind us to turn around and give him a quick kiss. I chuckle-my sister and her boyfriend can't stay away from eachother longer than five hours without withdrawal symptoms.
July, and her mother, manage to squeeze along the rows and into the two seats next to me. Mariah and I have known July all our life-and lived alongside her in the Merchant's Village. Like a promise, we all join hands- me, Mariah and July as the TV bursts into life.
First, we watch clips from the last Hunger Games. I particularly hated that year-the tributes were thrown into a frozen artic with polar bears twice the size of what they usually were. The only weapons were shoddy; leaving most tributes to succumb to starvation, die at the hands of the roaming wildlife or die a bloody death at the hands of another. The winner, Paulina Malarky, won because of her amazing ability to elude starvation.
Eventually, after about half an hour of mind-numbing boredom, the Seal of Panem flashes on the screen and the room falls deathly silent. Mariah squeezes my hand. President Snow is shown, reading from the Treaty of Treason to a besotted Capitol audience. Finally, a glittering box is carried onto the illuminated stage by a small boy, and the President takes it and selects a card from hundreds.
He opens it, scans it and opens his mouth. I screw my eyes shut-hoping, just hoping that it won't be awful. I wish silently over and over that Mariah and July will be kept safe.
"To remind the rebels that two rebels died for every Capitol citizen, double the amount of tributes will be reaped into the Games." And then the image has gone, leaving flickering static. It's silent-like a blow failed to sink in. I slowly let all the air I inhaled out, realizing I had been holding my breath and try to wrench my hand from Mariah's iron grip. Suddenly, I hear a wail, and realize this is the worst thing possible.
I try to not let my eyes water as I imagine four tributes from our District. The odds are 100% improved; meaning Mariah and July and I aren't as safe as I imagined. Mariah's face is drawn: pale in shock. July just scuffs her shoes on the floor, shaking her head.
