I didn't cringe when they called my name. It was so bizarre, so utterly groundless and yet so consistent. I heard my mother gasp. Heard my brothers cry. And my sisters shriek in horror.
Rue, they had said without the slightest trace of pity. Some of the peacemakers sniggered.„Would anyone like to volunteer?" The woman asked, glancing at the silent crowd. Nobody answered. I held my breath. And then, when they called me to the front, I started humming the four toned melody that meant work was over in our district. But, in that moment, it was my tune. It calmed me down.
I wore a blue dress with yellow flowers, the prettiest piece of clothing we could afford. My hair was braided in an excessive way, and I held a matching sunflower in my right hand. When I looked down on the crowd, all of their faces twisted in sorrow, I forced a smile and looked directly into the eyes of my mother. She was crying. My youngest brother burried his face in her dress, the short arms cluthing her trembling legs. I felt the cameras turning and focusing on my face, waiting for some sign of weakness. But I just stood there, felt my smile slip away. Then they called Thresh. I saw his face turn from bewilderment to fear. He embraced his mother, who collapsed onto the floor moments later, and hurried onto the stage, his eyes resting on the woman with a nearly disgusted expression. He was so much taller than me, so much stronger, so much older. And when I shot him a quick look, he stared back, his brown-gold eyes sinking into mine. And then it was over. We would leave in an hour, they told us. We should say goodbye.
Even our goodbyes were documented. The camera team entered the room and told us to make it as quick as possible, that we had to get going. They would edit it in such way that it would look a lot more dramatic. It was by far less than an hour. I hugged my siblings and looked into their eyes, stroked their hair and kissed them on the forehead. Then, I hugged my mother. „Take care of them." I whispered, so only she could hear it. After that, she just held me in her arms and swayed me back and forth, humming my lullaby. Then I was pulled away and the doors were closed, and the last thing I heard was my mother's voice, screaming my name over and over again. And then I sat in the train, watching District 11 shrink in disbelief.
I avoided my reflection in the window and stared directly at the scenery we were passing. We had been driving through districts since what... hours now? Minutes? I had lost count. I saw fences and brickhouses and people farming. Which district was this? 7? 8? It looked as poor and pallid as District 11, and the thought of home made my heart sink. What would I do once exposed in the arena? I was neither strong nor particularly fast; the only chance I had were the trees. But what would I do if there would be no trees? I felt so unprepared, but at the same time I didn't want to think about what horrible things lay infront of me. I rested my head against the window, exhausted. But I couldn't stop thinking about my mother, and the responsibility she would now have to adopt. I didn't blame her for not volunteering at the Reaping. I didn't blame anyone. It was the only way, really. All of my 5 siblings were too young,- not that I would have let them take part if they were to be chosen- and it would just be careless of my mother to take part in the Games as she was the guardian. The odds of winning are too low, I reminded myself. There's 24 of us and only one comes out. I started to think, although part of my brain was compelling this idea, of strategies I could use to survive as long as I could. Trees I thought. It's the only way. I need to get the backpack and run to the trees. I didn't allow myself to think about what would happen if the trees turned out to be nonexistant. Then, I remembered that I used to shoot a lot with a slingshot when I was younger; my mother would doubtlessly mention that in some Interview she'd be having at the moment, right? I hoped so. That would mean the information would be broadcast and some donator might be kind enough to send me one. I can climb, I thought helplessly. But that's pretty much all I can do. For a demented moment I debated whether or not to simply throw my trunk through the window and flee. But where would I go? Not to mention the speed of the train. The capitol would catch me in no time. They'd drag me back before I'd reach the nearest district. I'll just hide. Hide and shut up, be invisible. If they don't see you, they won't kill you. But although this plan soothed me a little, the idea of me winning the Hunger Games seemed so incredibly unrealistic, that I sank back into my chair and forced my eyes closed in desperation.
Okay guys, let me know if you like this... i'm not sure whether I should continue or not... you tell me!