Prologue
It's normal. It happens once a year in the spring, like it has for the past seventy-five years. Everyone, from everywhere gathers around in their town squares. In their nicest clothes, young adolescents' minds run through with their happiest memories, just in case they get chosen. Standing in straight lines, they watch the screen and hear the voice and swallow gulps of saliva down their throats in fear. Well that's the reactions of most teens in districts, not all; some cannot wait for this event, to stand then raise their arm tall and yell "I volunteer".
No matter how one enters the Games, it's a dreadful thing to watch at home. How the Capital people like it is anyone's guess. To them it's an amazing and entertaining thing to watch, yet they will never know how much pain it is to send your child off to most likely die. Kids at home grow up with the odds that they one day might get chosen, scared by a single argument with the cursed punishment that happened so many years ago.
Glammed to perfection for a day, then helpful but rigid training, to be glammed again, then go fight. The Capitol people love it, and then bid and make bets like it doesn't matter when he or she dies. It's normal to them. People in the Districts have just gone with it, some more than others. Some train illegally, like District 2, others just hope that their tributes don't die at the Cornucopia. Several like District 12 cannot afford to think about the Games, but instead just getting a simple meal on the table for their families.
Life goes on though, every day, after the Games have finished the citizens' daily life routines pick up just like before the Games. At times the Games last longer than normally expected from the stats and scores of the tributes. Weak often first, most scratching by, and then in the end normally a career wins and takes home the victory for their District. This is the usual outcome, though occasionally an underdog pulls through and lasts as the soul winning tribute. It has happened the last couple of years.
The Games are a horrible thing no matter how things play out. Kids are dead, parents are miserable and the victor has to live out his or her life with the disgusting image scared in their head. People get over it though, eventually. The Games go on. It's normal though. Right?