To whom it may concern,
The U.S. government has declared that each state will send in 2 tributes, 1 male and 1 female between the ages of 12-18, to the Hunger Games. The tributes will be selected by a lottery held at the state capitol on June 1s, 2020. Each name will be entered once; volunteers to take the place of a tribute will be allowed.
Every one is required to attend.
The tributes selected will be taken to Washington D.C. into an arena to fight to the death. The arena will vary. If the two tributes from the same state are the last alive, they will be declared winners. If there fellow tribute should die, the remaining tribute can still win.
The winner will receive a life of ease back home with fame and fortune.
Losing will mean certain death.
The games will occur once a year on June 1st, and everyone is required to watch the games. They can last anywhere from days, to weeks.
Attached is a form you are required to fill out, registering all children between ages 12-18. It must be mailed to your state capitol by May 15th.
Let the games begin.
I stare down at the letter, my mouth hanging open in shock. Questions of why bounce around in my head, but I already know the answers to why this is being put in place. One word: Uprisings. What it has to do with the ages they've selected to participate in, I'm not sure. I get it, they want to punish people for the uprisings, but why are they punishing the kids? It's the adults who have been doing this!
Pushing the blame aside, I immediately think about my younger siblings. My sister is twelve and my brother is fourteen. How are they going to take this news? Even more; what would happen if one of them were picked. I wouldn't let Becca go; I would volunteer for her for sure, but I wouldn't be able to stop Daniel from going.
Next thing I do is panic. I run inside my house and take a few calming breaths before I call everyone into the kitchen. Once everyone is there, we sit down at the table and they all look at me questioningly. I read the letter out loud, watching their expressions. My mother's green eyes fill with tears while Becca and Daniel look absolutely mortified. My father, however, doesn't look surprised. Like he already knew this. Was it on the news or something?
Once I finish the letter, I lay it down on the table. No one says anything as we absorb the information. The silence is broken though by my mother's hysteric sobs. She grabs on to Becca who is closest to her and wraps her in a bone crushing hug, crying into Becca's brown hair. I look at dad to see what he's thinking, but he just pats mom's back sympathetically.
I wonder what he's thinking. He didn't seem at all surprised, only a small hint of anger in his brown eyes. He always tells me that eyes are the windows to the soul; that you can read a person's emotions just by looking into them.
"Look, this sucks. But we need to be ready. I know the chances of one of us being chosen is pretty low, but I want to be prepared. Anyone up for a little training montage?" I say, trying to relieve the grief in the room. No one smiles though, but dad nods.
"It's a good idea. You guys have two months until this. I want you guys to be prepared," dad says. I just look at him, wondering how he's taking this so easily. We look just alike- my dad and I- along with Daniel and Becca. Same dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes. While Becca was blessed with our mother's naturally tanned skin, me and Daniel got our father's fair skin.
We all discuss exactly what we should do, and I suggest getting some books from the library on survival and stuff. Daniel is all for weapons training, saying he knows a few people who have some things we could borrow. Mother is going to create a diet plan for us and help us with our cardio, while dad helps us work on strength. All this talk makes mother cry even harder. I go over to sooth her, prying Becca out of her arms since she looks like she's about to be crushed to death.
"Mom, it's ok. We need you to stay strong. There isn't any use getting so upset; we need you to be the brave one right now," I soothe. After some time she stops crying and wipes the stray tears away.
"You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you. I guess I'm no help blubbering like a baby." I pat her on the back and she gives me a sad smile.
"Ok, I'm going to go change real quick," I tell dad, going up the stairs. I switch out of my pajamas and grab a sweatshirt and jeans. Pulling my dark brown hair up into a ponytail, I sigh. Just yesterday I didn't have a worry in the world. Now here I am preparing and training because I could possibly be forced into a fight for my life. Not what I expected when I woke up this morning.
"Ready," I say once I hit the bottom step. Dad grabs the keys to his truck and Daniel and I follow him out while Becca stays with mom to help her. No one says anything on the ride there, all absorb in our own thoughts. All I'm doing is worrying. Not for myself, but for my brother and sister.
I'm even worried about my best friend Kaitlynn. What would happen if she got picked? I like to think that if she got picked I would volunteer, but truth is, I probably wouldn't. Not because I don't love her or anything, just because it's a pretty extreme thing to do, and I wouldn't expect her to do it for me. Becca is a different story though. And Daniel; what's going to happen if he got picked? I couldn't take his place. Just the thought of either of their names being called makes me sick to my stomach so I turn my thoughts elsewhere. Besides; there are thousands of names that could be chosen, giving us pretty good odds.