24 tributes. 1 victor. Hazel Forester never thought she would be in this situation. But she is. Let the 76 Hunger Games begin!
When my name was called at the reaping, my world had turned upside-down. I pulled it together for the cameras. How the Capitol could do this, I don't know. They must be heartless.
Effie Trinket, the District 12 escort, smiled as I mounted the steps. "Boys next!" She chirped and walked towards the glass bowl. I gulped. Please don't pick him. Please don't pick him. But fate has a cruel mind. Effie's voice rang out clear across the square. Jay Donnor.
He looked at me as he climbed the cold marble steps. The look in his eyes was just as icy. No expression. Just ice. Whatever had happened in the past was the past. A series of flashbacks invaded my mind. A flash of lightning. His grimy face. The tree falling down. His scream. Me pulling his arm. I almost didn't her Effie saying, "Shake hands!" in her forever cheerful voice. I gave Jay's hand a small shake. If he was going to be like that, so will I.
We were introduced to our mentors. Katniss and Peeta Mellark. They won two years ago. Hopelessly in love. Two tributes ignoring each other and two mentors doing anything but ignoring each other. This was going to work out great.
Then there was Haymitch. Always drunk. I don't think he will be much help. But he helped Katniss and Peeta live. Maybe he will help me. I have no intention letting Jay live.