I let out a single sigh, so heavy that I could swear smoke was escaping my body. My face is filthy. Is that selfish of me? I mean, it's the day of the reaping and all I can think about is this mud caked girl staring back at me through the glass. I run my fingers down the crack along the left side of the mirror. My little sister Madge tripped into it while we were playing tag and ended up chipping her tooth. That was two years ago, when the only thing she had to worry about was her tooth. Not anymore, now her future lies in the hands of the Capitol.
Being the daughter of the Mayor of District 12 often led to people thinking that I had special privileges over the rest of the town. Sadly they are mistaken, because ever since I was twelve, I have also had to put my pretty dress on, and creep down to the Justice Hall, to see if I would be picked to become the next tribute from district 12 for the Hunger Games. This year, the 71st, I am still going to have to drag myself to the reaping, just like everybody else. Only two more years, after this one, I think to myself. Maybe sixteen is my lucky number. No, I can't think like that.
I reach behind my head and tear out the knot of a ponytail. My blonde hair flows down past my shoulders, touching my waist. My mother sometimes says my hair reminds her of sunshine and dandy lions, and that I am never to cut it above my waist. If she comes in my bedroom now, she will have a heart attack. I flick my hair behind my shoulders, and start to wipe at my face with a warm wash cloth. This is what I get for playing in the garden with Madge, a face full of fertilizer. The warm water embraces my cheeks, and a shiver trickles down my spine. I finish washing up just as a loud knock erupts through my door.
"Come in" I choke, startled by the knock, and being ripped out of my own thoughts.
The door creaks open, and my mother enters. You can tell that it is reaping day because she wears the same pinstripe dress that hangs at her knees, and her broach is of a red rose. Usually District 12 is known for the simplicity and greyness, but my mother always adds a little spice into her wardrobe, probably because she can afford it, unlike the rest of the district. Stop. I shouldn't say such selfish things, especially when it can turn around and bite me on a day like today. She crosses the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She places a small, rose patterned dress on my bed, and taps it gently.
"You will look beautiful in this, Athena. I sewed it myself"
"Thank you, it is gorgeous" I don't really care for the dress, it's honestly the least of my worries.
"How are you" she asks, crossing to me, squeezing my shoulders.
"Fine. Well, not fine. I just want this to be over, I feel so sick"
"Yes, I know honey. Your name isn't in those bowls nearly as many times as the others, since you don't have to add your name for food or goods. The odds are in your favor. You will be home for supper in no time, and I'll make an extra desert for you and your sister"
"So you aren't worried for Madge" I ask. Of course not, her name is only in there once. Just once.
"Not in the least, there's more of a chance that my name will come out of the bowl", she says with a giggle.
My mother rarely shows her emotions. I hope in a way she is worried. After all, what if one of us is picked. She wouldn't be giggling then, would she? I start to feel hot and anger begins to creep into my system. Anger? Maybe annoyance, it's hard to tell. But for my mother to be so sure, everything must be alright.
"Now dear, put on your dress and meet us downstairs when you are ready", with that final remark she exits the room. I turn to the dress, eyeing it up and down. I imagine my name being called at the reaping, and being thrown into a train, escorted to my death. I mean, I would have no chance in the Games. I was never trained and the careers would take me out before the signal to begin even sounds. Should I sell myself that short? Yes, it's true.
I shake away my thoughts and change into my reaping dress. The sun shine from the window drips into my bedroom, casting a wall of light in the middle of my floor. I walk to the curtains and draw them back all the way, and the sun bursts in fully, filling every corner, dancing and twinkling over the glass perfume bottles elegantly placed on my fireplace. I look outside to see the children walking gloomily towards the Justice Hall. Some were crying, while others were in their own world, trying to block out all emotions, or maybe just deep in thought. I see one girl that looks about the age of Madge. She is running the opposite way, breaking through the crowd. Further up, I see what seems to be her mother running towards her. Only on reaping day, I think to myself.
Two peacekeepers spot her and grab her by the waist, pushing her back into the moving crowd by force. Her cries and screams pierce through me like knives, tearing at each nerve in my body. I shudder and turn away, leaving the room swiftly. I descend the stairs of the mansion, finding my family waiting for me at the bottom. My father has a blank look on his face, but I can see in his eyes he fears the outcome. Strangely, I feel more comforted by that, then my mother's stange smile, like she just sucked on a lemon and had to pretend she enjoyed the taste.
We only live down the street from the hall, so we walk there. Madge is clutched onto my mother, as if she is her lifeline. I gaze through the crowd, trying to find Lilith. She has been my best friend ever since we were five and would always pick up for me when I was teased for being the mayor's daughter. A strange thing to be teased about indeed, but she stuck by me nonetheless. Then, I hear her call my name.
"Athena" she wiggles her way out of the crowd, almost sending Erik Colton flying into the dirt. He gives her a dirty look and proceeds on. She finally makes it to where my family and I are walking.
"Happy Hunger Games" she says, rolling her eyes.
"And may the odds be ever in your favor" my capitol accent is pretty bad, but she laughs anyway.
We stop at the entrance to the Justice Hall square. The whole place is lined with peacekeepers, standing there like statues. Statues with fully loaded guns, what a lovely thought. My parents both kiss my cheek and I take Madge's hand, walking off to the sign in stations. Lilith is beside me, twirling her coal black hair between her fingers, like we're just walking to class. I can feel Madge beside me shaking, so I stop and kneel beside her.
"Your name is only in there once this year, Madge. The odds are in your favor, you have nothing to worry about".
"Still, what if you're picked" she squeaks. A tear streams down her face.
"Well, then you can have my bedroom" I giggle, and wipe the tear from her cheek.
"Don't say things like that", but a smile develops reluctantly.
I squeeze her hand and place her in front of me, she's going to want me to hold her hand while they prick her finger for sign in. She gives me a quick hug and falls into the line of girls heading to the sign in station. A girl from Madge's class spots her from across the line and runs up to us.
"Hey Madge, how are you feeling" she asks, slipping into our line.
"I'm really nervous. I just want all this to be over with". The young girl smiles, nodding and turns to the front of the line, she is next.
"Everdeen, Katniss" the woman calls. Katniss Everdeen, what a nice name. Madge and Katniss are close friends at school, from what I've heard from Madge. I hope she isn't picked, for Madge's sake. The woman pricks Katniss' finger and proceeds to call out Madge's name. I wrap my hand around her free one, and we walk up together.
"Let go of her hand" says the woman sternly.
"She's nervous about needles, I just want to be with her", I don't like her tone, but then again what can I do about it without being shot.
"I don't care. Let go of her hand" she croaks.
I roll my eyes and let go of Madge's hand, backing into my spot behind her. She pricks her finger and Madge lets out a little squeal. I rub her back to assure her she's fine. She turns around, giving me a quick hug and walks with the other young girls to their standing quarter.
"Next"
I take a step forward and throw my hand out to the retched woman. She grabs it, flips it over to my finger and jabs the needle in. She must have done it extra hard because of the annoyance I just caused her. My finger quickly finds my mouth, and I try to wipe the bit of blood into my dress. My mother would kill me, again. I take my place in the standing quarters. All around me are girls from my class, some shaking at the knees, and some look so uninterested they would volunteer to shoot themselves. After everyone is settled, bursting out through the Justice Hall doors, like pouring a gallon of pink paint against a grey wall, is Effie Trinket. Out of all the years I've seen her at the reaping, I'm almost sure she never changes the color of her array of outfits. Always pink. Always.
"Welcome, Welcome. How are we today District 12"
Silence. What does she think? We're all going to burst out in joyous response? Her wig is clearly on too tight. Now, I am laughing to myself. I look like an idiot.
"I have come here from the Capitol to choose two tributes to represent District 12 at the 71st annual Hunger Games. And now I blah blah blah blah"
That's all I hear. Because in fact, I know what she is going to say next. She shows us the video of the old war footage and the new era of Panem, and in it's own twisted way makes it look reasonable that we have the Games. The capitol is easy to brainwash. She claps at the end of the video, as she does every year, and just like every year, nobody claps back.
"Now, I will choose the tributes. Ladies first" she skips to the bowl on her left side. She reaches down into the clear dome, and fumbles for a second, almost teasingly. She shoots her hand up, with one enclosed name that will end some poor girl's life. She walks slowly back to the microphone. It feels like it gets further away from her with every step she takes in her hideous but yet stylish heels. Clearing her throat, she tenderly rips open the piece of paper, and smiles that capitol smile.
"Athena Undersee"
No.