I'm Thresh. I'm Eighteen. That's all most people know about me.
On my thirteenth birthday, something evil spawned.
I got in from my work in the apple orchard and I sat by myself in the kitchen by the table, waiting for father to return from his work. He was due home in 7 minuets. In District eleven, we didnt celebrate birthdays, it was just another day in which you became a step closer to dying. Just like every other day. So there i was. Officially thirteen years old, sitting in silence waiting for my father to get home and have a general chat about not a lot then he would tell me in the bag there was a bread slice and half a tomato for my dinner then he would go to our room and sleep so he was prepared for his shift at the pumpkin patch at 22:00. He worked 12 hours a day then came home and went to bed whereas I worked 6 hours a day. The general routine. I waited and waited and waited some more until the time was 13:22. The door creaked open and my father stumbled in. Blood was dripping from his nose and he had a swollen eye. "Thresh." He growled at me. I began to shake at his unsteady, nasty tone. My father was always a reserved man who was as respected as a farmer could be. Never loud or rude, he never spoke in more than a mumble. I ran to him, inquisitive about what happened to him. "Papa! What happened?" His frown turned into his usual soft half-smile. "It was nothing, just a bit of an argument, my boy." He wrapped a muscly arm around my shoulders. But I was still inquisitive. "Who with, papa? A peacekeeper?" I turned pushy as my urge to know grew. "Never mind that, Thresh." Father dropped his arm from me and began to write on our best parchment paper, which I wasn't allowed to touch. I scratched my elbow and stared as he furiously scribbled and scrawled quicker than anyone I'd seen. Father seemed frightened. He was shaky and just generally different. Suddenly he turned around and grabbed my arm. "Thresh, i will always be your father, I love you." He had never told me that before. Something was defiantly wrong and I was scared. "Papa, i love you too but why- what made you say that?" I was concentrated on his scared brown eyes, in which I had never seen true feelings in. "Just know that I love you, son." The grip on my arm briefly tightened then loosened. I glanced at the digital clock projected by the Capitol installed projector that was fixed to only show the time, important messages broadcasted by president Snow and The Hunger Games. 13:26. I was still trying to comprehend what my father meant. Immediately, the door was kicked in and there stood five peacekeepers. "PAPA!" I screamed. The peacekeepers stomped into our little rundown house and grabbed father. "No!" I shouted as one restrained me and the four others tried to hold down my father. "Stop!" I cried as papa kicked at them, spitting in their helmet protected faces. Suddenly the tallest intruder pulled a gun from his belt and held it in fathers face. He stopped kicking and everything went silent. I smashed the glass of silence and screamed. "NO, PLEASE, MY PAPA." I begged for them to stop, to reconsider but I was too late. They dragged father out the tattered door and the peacekeeper picked me up and carried me, screaming and pounding his back with my fists to the town square. Father was chained to the shooting post. I screeched and begged but I was too late and within seconds father was dead.
So a few weeks after Father was killed, I signed up for much more tesserae than I needed. I was in eight times. I did it because it felt like I couldn't handle the pain of being the one everyone felt sorry for. Iris and Elin,my sisters felt like they had to do everything for me. I wanted to go in the games to win and come out independent and rich. I didn't need anything from anyone. I was coping well. But I wasn't.
i was disappointed when I wasn't reaped and each year I signed for more and more tesserae which I sold after I wasn't reaped. However when I was eighteen and adamant I was going so I signed up for 39 tesserae. And sure enough, I was chosen.
