I wake up to the sound of tapping. I open my eyes and find the first beams of sunlight cascading into my bedroom from my window. Also in the window, I see a familiar face. Outside is my best friend Corderoy, his nose red from the cold, tapping quietly at the glass. I roll my eyes at him and jump out of bed. I open the window for him to come in and tell him to go downstairs while I get ready.
I go to my bathroom and look in the mirror to find that my platinum blonde hair is a wreck. It looked like a rat had slept in it. I went to go shower. The shower's water was warm and welcoming, and after five minutes I got out and dressed in simple jeans and a big blue sweater. I pulled my waist-length hair into a high pony-tail and set off to the kitchen, where Corderoy was waiting.
As I went down the stairs, I realized that today was the reaping for the 17th Hunger Games. I wasn't nervous because ever since the first Hunger Games, the first districts, the careers, had trained their children to fight and volunteer for the tributes who were picked. I had been training since I was twelve, because my father wanted to be cautious. This year, however, I wanted to prove to myself and my father that I could win the Hunger Games. He always says that the Hunger Games are too harsh for a 16-year-old, but I'd already gone through worse...
"Well you took long enough, Amethyst!" Corderoy accused sarcastically. I laughed at him and said, "Come on, you know I'm a girl, and girls take their time to get ready." Corderoy huffed in a joking way and ran to the door. He opened it and said, "Let's go, we don't have much time today, the reaping is in a few hours." I grabbed my jacket and we set off, closing the door slowly so we wouldn't wake the rest of the house.
We walked through town slowly so we wouldn't draw attention to the few people who were out on the streets. Most of the people weren't opening their shops, as it was reaping day, but they were still managing their goods.
The sun had just risen on District 1, but the street still appeared dark. Every day the sky was a pale blue, almost gray. It was usually very boring in District 1, but Corderoy made sure that he and I always had something interesting to do. Most days we went to the lake, like today, but other days we would run about the shops wreaking havoc on a new victim, and it was always such fun.
Corderoy and I reached the jewelry shop and went down the alley beside it. The alley was narrow, so not many people could get back there. We pushed through the weeds at the back of the alley and found the familiar dirt path hiding just behind them. I set off at a run, challenging Corderoy to a race to our special spot right by the lake. Corderoy dashed in front of me, as he had always been the fastest out of us two. I ran furiously to catch up to him, but by the time I had slightly caught up with him, we were at the cave next to the lake. I mock-punched him and flopped down on the sand. I looked out across the vast lake, watching the blue-gray water shift and roll. Suddenly, I felt a bit nervous. I turned to Corderoy, and he could see that I was feeling concerned. "What is it, Amethyst?" He inquired with a quizzical look. I wasn't sure that I wanted to tell him I was nervous for the Hunger Games, but he would know I was hiding something. I sighed. " I was just thinking that I was slightly nervous about the games, and I know I've been training for this for about five years, but I still don't know. Should I still volunteer? I mean, I want to, especially if there's a 13-year-old that's picked, but, I just don't know." Corderoy looked at me, and I think I saw concern on his face. "Well, you've been planning to do this for two years now, so I think you should do it. I know you can win it. The hardest thing will be for me and your family, and probably you too, because you'll be gone for a while. We'll all miss you, but I think that you've really dedicated yourself to this, so I don't think you should give up now." I smiled at him and looked out at the lake again. Then, at a far edge of the lake came a creature, it had come out of the trees. It was quite large in size, and the shape looked familiar. Suddenly I knew what it was.
"Corderoy," I said quietly, but with unmistakeable alarm, " There's a bear at the other side of the lake." Corderoy turned his head slowly and saw the bear. He jumped in fear. Corderoy had a very intense fear, a phobia, of bears. His father, cousin, and brother had been mauled by one on a hunting trip four years earlier, and only his father survived, but just barely. I saw Corderoy freeze up, and then I knew it would be no use to run, District 1 was about three quarters of a mile away, and the bear would outrun us easily. "Corderoy, get into the cave." I said calmly, not taking my eyes off of the bear, who had now seen us. Corderoy didn't move, he just sat there, paralized with fear. "Corderoy, please. Go into the cave." He still didn't move. I inched slowly to Corderoy. I picked him up and backed up to the cave, still not taking my gaze off of the bear. I took Corderoy to the back of the cave and told him to stay there and not come out until I told him to. He nodded slightly as tremors shook his body. I grabbed the spear that Corderoy and I sometimes used for fishing. The bear was now coming nearer towards the cave. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. I snapped my eyes open, waiting for the bear to either leave or come nearer.
The bear prowled around for a minute or two, then took notice of my spear. It let out an enormous roar and charged toward me. I took a defensive stance and eyed the bear. Its mouth was pulled back and its teeth looked sharp and menacing. The bear was getting closer and closer, and when it was about 10 feet in front of me, it went up on its hind legs. I could see that it was easily twelve feet tall. Fear ran through my veins and nearly paralized me like it did Corderoy. I snapped out of it and got my spear ready. The bear growled and ran forward. I barely doged his first strike, his claws grazing my shoulder. As I dodged its attack, I stabbed it just below its ribcage. The bear roared in pain and smacked me to the ground, just like I was a measly little fly. My spear was in my hand, the end of it splattered with blood. I was dazed and disoriented from the hit. The bear thundered his roar and stood on his hind legs, ready to give the death blow.