The Hunger Games
Shivering, sweating I wake. Ahead of me, lies a beautiful, golden dress. Why is there something so beautiful? Of course. Today is the day of the reaping, the day when two children are picked from each district to fight to the death
I scraped back my straight, brown hair into a ponytail but my mother immediately forces it down, to hang limp at my side. My dress has an orange, satin sash and while I keep tying it to the front, my mother won't stop correcting me, saying I'm doing it "wrong".
All I need for breakfast is a slice of bread - it feels like I'm eating carpet, anyway. I assure my siblings that it will be fine because the odds of them getting chosen are very slim. I have done all I can - taking the tesserae for them. I tell them that if they are chosen, to walk normally and to not show any emotions. They will be split up, but they shouldn't worry because my first priority for when the reaping ends is to find them.
When I find my place I am evenly spaced between two fifteen year old girls who look just as terrified as I feel. I ignore the mayor's speech and pretend to pay my respect to President Snow. I only pay attention when I hear the ridiculous Capitol person say "ladies first".
"Lucy Frost"
My whole body goes numb. I can't feel a thing. My feet carry me to the stage but I'm not actually aware of it. I force myself to go quickly and confidently but I don't strut. I'm not a career. They are the people who win. I can not. I do not stand a chance.
""And now for the boys…Max Riverson!"
Luckily I do not know this poor boy. It would be a lot harder if I did. He walks up slowly at first, then he loses control. His face goes pink, then a drop of sweat rolls down his face. Then he can't hold it in any longer. He starts to cry and I wonder whether this is his strategy. But then I realise that he knows he doesn't stand a chance and he doesn't care what happens.