YES, I AM WRITING ABOUT THE HUNGER GAMES. I KNOW, IT'S REALLY MAINSTREAM.
The spear flies toward me and goes straight through my chest. I look down and gasp in horror, only to cough up blood. I attempt to cry out for help, but I can't say a thing…
I wake up, panting. There's no sign of any wound or blood. It was all just another nightmare. The nightmares had been occurring more and more recently. Of course, today is the Reaping. Today I may be selected at random to kill 23 other innocent people. I slide out of my bed and walk downstairs to the kitchen. I'm greeted by both my mother and father. My mother's face is wet and all red and blotchy. She's been crying. I suddenly remember why. 9 years ago today, my 12 year old sister Katrina was chosen for the 37th Annual Hunger Games, and killed for entertainment and enjoyment. I was only 6 when I saw her die, when I saw her murdered in her sleep by the girl from District 4. "You better get dressed." My father says. "We can't have you looking anything but your best if you're going to be seen by all of Panem." My mother adds. After taking a quick shower, I walk back into my small room and reveal a beautiful blue suit that belonged to my father when he was my age. I put it on and walk back downstairs.
"You look very nice dear," my mother says. "You'd better get to the town square, if you want to get to there in time." "All right, thanks Mom." I say quickly, and walk out the large green doors of our house. I walk away alone. As I arrive to the Town Square, the gong rings out. I am earlier than everyone and I am marked off. I find my spot with the other 15 year old boys. Five minutes later, all the eligible boys arrive and file into the roped off areas for their age. The Mayor, past Mentors, and other important people plus Peacekeepers walk onto stage. Once everyone has found their spot, the escort slowly walks to the microphone. It must be a new escort this year because it's definitely nobody I've ever seen before. It's a man this year. A man wearing almost every shade of red and orange you could ever imagine. He introduced himself as Griffin Galloway. "Welcome to the 46th Annual Hunger Games, and May the odds be ever in your favor." He says as he walks to a large glass bowl filled with small pieces of paper. "Ladies first." He calls, and carefully selects a piece of paper. He unfolds it and calls the name. "Arianna Stark."
A small blond girl- no older than 15- takes the stage. I can see the fear in her eyes.
Please not me, please not me, please not me. It's all I can think of. I'm still praying I won't be chosen while Griffin pulls out the small piece of paper, and begins to read the name. Please not me, please not me, please not me. "Nathaniel Lockhart."
I walk to the stage silently.