I woke up to the sound of someone crying. I sat up in bed and tried to pin-point where the crying was coming from. I looked around and then I saw my little sister curled up in a ball in the corner of the room. I got out of bed and walked over to her.
"What's wrong?" I asked her. I didn't have to though. She was twelve, and today was the day of the Reaping. I remembered my first time going to the square and waiting anxiously for someone's name to be drawn out of the big glass ball, praying, praying, I wouldn't hear "Elizabeth Nilsson." I was the oldest so, at the time, I only had to worry about me. Now, at seventeen, I have to pray I don't hear my name, or any of my three eligible sibling's names. I have to pray I don't hear, "Nick, Tyler, or Eve Nilsson." Now, at six am, Eve was curled in a ball, praying she didn't hear her name. I was praying too.
"Beth, what if my name gets drawn?" She whispered. "I don't want to die!" She yelled.
"Shh." I sat down next to her and let her lean into me. I stroked her hair. "Your name won't be drawn. It's your first year. You only have your name in there once. They won't pick you." I said. I had my name in that ball twelve times. Six, just for my age, and another six for tesserae, a small amount of food that I could get for my family. I got tesserae for everyone in my family, and in turn, my name got put in the ball one more time for each family member. I wouldn't let any of my siblings sign up for tesserae. Even though Nick, my younger brother by one year, insisted that he take half, I wouldn't let him. I wouldn't let any member of my family have more of a chance of going to the Capitol then needed. I could handle six extra entries.
The Reaping is the day that two names are drawn out of a big glass ball. One girl, one boy, both between the ages of twelve and eighteen. It was like this for every district in Panem. There are twelve districts, all under the rule of the Capitol. Panem sits on a place that used to be called North America. When North America fell apart, the Capitol took over and tore it into thirteen districts. All under the harsh rule of the Capitol.
Eventually, the thirteen districts got tired of the Capitol. They tried to rebel. They tried to gain their freedom. The districts loss, and to show them that they had much more power than them, the Capitol destroyed District 13. And created the Hunger Games. A sick, twisted event that takes place once every year, where the one boy and girl chosen at the Reaping, are all put in an arena. These twenty-four teens fight to the death on live TV. There are twenty-four teens thrown into an arena, only one comes out alive. There's only one rule in this game: "Kill, or be killed."
"How do you know? That girl from District six last year only had her name in the bowl once and she got picked!" Eve yelled. It was true, this little twelve-year-old girl had been picked for the District six female tribute, she was stabbed in the throat during the blood-bath that started the Games.
"Cause I won't let them pick you." I said. "Now get up." I got up and then dragged Eve to her feet. I walked her over to our bed and tucked her back in. "Get a few more hours of sleep." I told her. Then I went to my side of the bed and crawled in. Eve was already asleep. Within a couple of minutes, I was to.
"Beth, wake up." Someone was shaking me. "Beth!" I opened my eyes and sat up. It was Mom.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"About ten. Come on, the Reaping starts soon." In District nine, the Reaping starts at eleven. I got out of bed and saw my three siblings were all already up and dressing. I took a quick bath in the tiny tub we had in the corner of our house. I had to take it cold because we didn't have time to heat up the water. When I was done, I put on the simple purple dress my mother handed me. It was the same dress that she had worn to most of her Reapings when she was a teenager. She had gotten it from her mother. My grandmother, who had died five years ago. I'd been wearing this dress since I was fourteen, the first time it had fit me. Before then, I had worn a green dress. The same one Eve is wearing now. Both my brothers had on black pants, the only nice pants we had, and simple blue button down shirts. Eve's hair was in a bun on top of her head, Mom had done it earlier while I was bathing. I decided to just put mine in a ponytail.
"No, no, no." Mom came over and took the ponytail out. "It needs to look nicer." She messed with my hair for a good ten minutes. I ended up with a bun-like thing on the top of my head.
"Thanks Mom." I said. She just nodded.
"We have to go!" Dad yelled from the door. "Reaping starts in fifteen minutes!" Mom hurried us all out the door and we started walking towards the Justice Building. The Reaping took place on a make-shift stage that the Capitol built before-hand, right outside the Justice Building.
When we got there, we were separated into groups. Parents had to stand in the back, since they were merely spectators. The girls and boys were in the front and on different sides. The youngest in the front, the oldest in the back. When I got to my spot, I waited for it to begin. I kept on praying that my whole family would arrive home safe in about two hours. After about ten minutes, the Reaping began. Up on the stage were the two living Victors of past Games, our district mayor, and then Lola Daze, our districts escort. She was in charge of choosing the names out of the balls, and then escorting the tributes back to the Capitol.
"Welcome everyone!" She said into microphone. She was from the Capitol so the way she was dressed was no surprise. A bright purple wig, outrageous makeup, complete with lime green eye shadow and neon blue lipstick, and a tight hot pink business suit. I imagined how she would look without the hair, makeup , and in normal clothes. I imagined a dark brown hair, like mine, a flawless, young looking face, and simple clothes that outlined her figure. I got so absorbed in this little fantasy that I missed the Presidents pre-recorded speech on why the Hunger Games existed, and all the other things I'd been hearing my whole life. I was only zapped back into reality when Lola Daze said "Ladies first!" into the microphone.
She walked over to the big glass ball and put her hand in. She dug around and pulled out a name. I held my breath as she walked over to the microphone. She unfolded the tiny piece of paper and read out loud, "Elizabeth Nilsson." My name.