It has been 25 years since the last hunger games, and the world is still spinning. The districts are still busy as they are at this time. Autumn is here and the winds grow colder with each day. Everyone is quiet, glum and dull. No smiles from friends, or waves or warm gestures. All is as cold as the winter that will follow. 25 years has felt like a century. But every moment has to end, and the age of peace ends here.
However many people in the Capitol that cheered as snow died, there were some who cursed. A group of five men swore to the world that they would restore Panem to what it once was. They met in secret and organised a side to the war that no-one -not even snow- could have foreseen. Slowly their allies in District 13 took control. 13 was taken over and commanded to take back Panem from the rebels. Gradually Panem fell back into the hands of the ghosts of its past. And from then on the men called themselves the Gamemakers.
These five men took the Capitol for themselves. They planned and schemed and finally gained complete control. On the first decade after the war, when each district had been pushed back onto their knees, they lived up to their promise. The Hunger Games were reborn. Now knowing that their nightmares had become reality, the people of the districts fell back into old routine. Everywhere, children are preparing, as this year the Hunger Games begin for the first time in the 25 years it has been extinct. But the Gamemakers have promised that the fourth Quarter-Quell will be the most exciting yet. Which only means one thing, no-one is safe.
My name is Joy Archer. I am 16 and eligible for the Hunger Games. I am ready, because I know that someway, somehow I will be chosen. There are 13 districts but this time the Gamemakers have made changes to who enters the games. This time there will be 26 Tributes. It's still the same system, they are chosen on reaping day, one boy one girl. But this time there is a new district and a new enemy for the Gamemakers, both District 13 and the Capitol will have tributes. This is where I come in.
I live in the Capitol, my family always have. In an over-crowded city it's hard to see my relevance. In school they taught us about the old Panem. The Hunger Games were described as brutal, cruel and malignant; although no footage was ever shown to us. A part of me has always wanted to see it, to know what it was like. I have always felt as if I should be a part of something bigger. I know that if I am chosen I will be the one they remember, however the Gamemakers have made it obvious they don't want a repeat of the last games. District 12 has been excluded from the games until further notice. The Mockingjay monitored to make sure she doesn't interfere.
I admire Katnis, how she stood up against what was wrong, how she fought for freedom, how she didn't even care about other people views of her. She had the courage to change things, but at what cost? Her sister -the very person that inspired Katnis's want for change- died, Katnis herself changed and Peeta would never see her in the same way again. It's quite tragic, but then again so was Panem before Katnis fuelled the rebellion. They teach us a lot about that in school, well they used to anyway.
The Gamemakers will broadcast a live interview where they will finally reveal what is in store. They will do this on Reaping Day, tomorrow. But I am ready for whatever they throw at me; I will beat the Hunger Games. I have been preparing myself, mentally. I know what I will do. I just hope it's enough to keep me alive. I have no motivation like Katnis did; I have no-one to keep me going.
My mother died when I was young and my Father was one of the many casualties of the war that destroyed the Capitol. I live in one of the Children's Blocks, one of the most places affected by the new brand of government. Everyone in my floor of dorms is my age, those below me younger by around 2 to 3 years and the opposite for the floor above. The rest of the blocks are the schooling rooms, hospital wards and nurseries. Everyone I know is in danger of being chosen for the games. There are no tesserae's here. Everyone has enough to eat, luckily; some districts don't even have that anymore.
I feel so isolated here, no-one understands my mind, the things I do or even why I say some things. I used to have some friends, back when I was younger. I still have photos of them. My mother wasn't originally from the Capitol, she was from one of the Districts but I can no longer remember which one. When I was born my father stayed with us, away from the Capitol. But then my mother fell ill and so we moved back, where she could get the proper medical attention she needed. She died a few months later of an illness that the Capitol just couldn't cure. My father mourned for days but he never let me feel grief. We would go out into the forests around the Capitol and we would play with sticks. Fighting with them, throwing them to see who could get theirs the furthest. I would normally win, as always he would let me win. I liked those days, I miss them. But I feel like there was a purpose to what happened. Yes, I am probably one of the only people left who believe in destiny. But in my mind I feel as though I can do all these things, that normally people would have to train years to achieve.
I sound like a child when I tell this to the other children who talk to me. They ask me questions and who am I to ignore them. I don't want families like the rest of them do, I can go it alone. All I want is to find some adventure, runaway and never look back. I would fight for that, any day. But I'm not even sure that I'll be chosen, I suppose it's just another one of those unrealistic dreams.
There are so many children to choose from and I only have one name in that bowl. I'm one person in relation to the million that are out there now and a one in a million chance doesn't sound to favourable. I wouldn't bet on me. But I have this feeling, right in the pit of my stomach that just says that something is going to happen to me. Maybe I can run away after reaping day and escape to the forest where me and my father used to play. That would be a fun adventure, and it has a better chance of happening than my other plan. So I suppose I'll just have to wake up tomorrow and wait and see. I bet some children in this block are hoping that they don't wake up tomorrow; I guess the only thing they have left to lose is their lives. Sleeping to death is a good way to go. And that's the last thing I remember thinking before I feel asleep.