This year was different. The weather was colder, the sun had hidden itself away behind a cloud. Her heart thumped a little louder in her chest and she watched her youngest brother, now 12, take his place among the boys. His eyes were red, like he'd been crying. Her sister was near the front, only fourteen years old. What would happen if their names were called? What would she do? Would she scream, cry even? Would she be able to volunteer? Closing her eyes, she tried to shake those horrible thoughts. No one from the Mason family had ever entered that ring, and none would.
The man from the Capitol, his name something like that of a fruit, erupted from the hall behind the makeshift stage and began to say his piece. He ended, as always with a "May the Odds be EVER in your favor." He spoke his words cheerfully, like they were not the signature on someone's death certificate. His knuckles cracked audibly, sending a shiver down Johanna's spine. She rubbed at her own arms, wondering which two children they would be saying goodbye to today. His hand reached into the large bin, his fingertips scraping at the papers.
Johanna tried to count the number of times her name appeared on those sadistic slips of paper. She lost count, at the sound of Peartier clearing his throat. Everyone grew silent, now they were staring at her like she was expected to do something. Confused, she just watched as they moved from around her and Peacekeepers crowded her. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be. No Mason had ever been in that ring, none would. Her eyes traveled to her mother, who stood stony eyed. Her father who was mouthing "good luck". Anderson, her brother, tried running for her, but was held back by a friend. No use, she's worse than dead. That's what they mouthed, the friend to her brother.
Her heart thumped violently in her chest, her eyes stung with tears. She swallowed as she was ushered onto the stage, her hand shook roughly by Peartier. Nothing he said made any sense to her, his words were jumbled in her mind. She didn't look at the boy, the young one who's name was chosen. She closed her eyes again. She would come out alive, more alive than when she entered. She would.