"Aaah!" the man screams painfully. I flinch as I hear the snapping of bone and the pouring of blood. The ferocious beast swallows the man's foot in his mouth and then bares his teeth, hungry for more. The man screams wildly as he hops around on his one good leg. It is evident that the blood will not ease and the wound is fatal. Sure enough, within the next minute, the man is on the floor, dead.
The camera zooms in on the man and I recognize him. He was the butcher from our District. I remember the whole debacle when he accidentally gave an Official a bad cut of meat. He was taken from his bed in the middle of the night and sent off to sentencing camp.
That's how the system works. You do one bad thing: it could by the mildest thing possible: you will still get killed. I guess that's the way they plan on keeping the districts in line. Singling out all of the "bad" people is what President Sair calls it.
Personally, I think its even worse than the Hunger Games. My parents, the famous Katniss and Peeta Mellark, told me all of their stories about the Hunger Games. I loved them so much and I still do. But they are dead. They and all the rebels were sentenced as soon as the system came into place. God, I miss them so much.
"Cedar! It's the butcher!" my younger brother Rye says as he burrows his head into my lap, trying to block out the TV and the horrifying sounds coming from it. Officials walk over to Rye and jerk his head so he is sitting in an upright position, looking straight at the TV. Me and my brother both hate watching sentencing each night. It's a mandatory thing, just like the Hunger Games. They call it repentance. I call it murder.
My brother screams as a person's arm is ripped out of its socket. I have the urge to cover is eyes, but I refrain because we have already received our daily warning: Rye hiding in my lap. If I shield him again: we will both be sentenced and I could never let that happen.
I love my brother more than anything in the world. He's all that I have now that Mom and Dad are gone. Losing him would be like losing my heart. I do anything I can to protect him and make sure he behaves. I feel as if it is my duty to treat him like a son to me. I make him behave so he won't get sentenced. Even though he feels that I act harsh to him sometimes, he understands that I am just trying to protect him from sentencing.
The last man is sentenced and 5 Officials enter the room while 5 stay outside the house.
"Sentencing is over. You may now go about your own business but keep good behavior in mind," the guards recite wearily. This is their signature every night when they leave us. Picking up the projector that displays the sentencing, the Officials march out of the room in a single file line.
I hold my brother in my arms and sing him the lullaby that Mom sang to Rue when she was dying. My brother falls asleep and him as well as I are reassured another safe day, free from the evil clutches of the Officials.