I do not own the Hunger Games or anything related to them.
Chapter One:
I should have seen it coming. My name had to be in there at least 20 times. Between my age, and the amount of tesserae I signed up for, my name was very common. Still, I never thought it would happen to me. I woke up feeling rather relaxed, considering the circumstances. Maybe it was naïve of me to think that today, of all days, I would be safe. It started like any other. I woke up to the sun beaming through my window. Below me, I could hear my father preparing breakfast. My mother was trying to keep herself busy before she had a mental breakdown. Being seventeen, this was the sixth time I was eligible for the reaping. I always dreaded this day, but over time you just learn to deal with it.
The reaping is an annual event where they choose competitors for the upcoming Hunger Games. The hunger games are a televised event, where 24 people fight to the death inside an arena. Two people – one boy and one girl – between the ages of twelve and eighteen are chosen from each district to fight to the death in an arena, to please the people of the capitol. The last remaining competitor is rewarded with riches and fame. However, they will always be linked to what they had to do in the arena. Only once has there been a victor from our district, district seven. They say the games serve as a reminder of the control that the capitol has over the districts, but at this point I am almost positive that they do it for pure entertainment.
Anyway, I walked downstairs where I met my father preparing the table. He laid out a nice spread. Eggs, bacon, even fresh rolls. We weren't a very rich family, so we often didn't eat very good meals. But on a day like today, I guess we may as well celebrate while we can. My father didn't say much, I could tell he hadn't slept last night. Our relationship is a rocky one. While we never fought, I feel like I don't know my dad, and I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to. My mother walked in shortly after I had sat down. Her eyes were red and puffy like she had been crying recently. My mother was always over protective of me when I was younger.
"Jaso, honey, I want you to know that everything is going to be okay," She told me the same thing every year. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much she really believed that. Every year, there were parents whose worlds came crashing down on them. Having to let go of their sons or daughters, having to watch them die. I can't begin to imagine the difficulty of that. I know my mom and dad were envisioning it all night.
"I hope so Mom, I really do. But in the case that I do g-"
"Son, you're not going anywhere," my father interrupted. I think he was trying to convince himself, more than he was trying to convince me. He placed three platefuls of food in front of us, and we slowly began to eat. I normally have no problem shoveling down a plate of food, but today was different. I picked at my food for twenty minutes before I went upstairs to change. It is mandatory for us to dress formally for the reaping, as if it is something we ought to respect. I put on my 'nice' clothes, which consists of beige khakis and a white t-shirt. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and met my parents downstairs.
"I am leaving now, see you guys later." One way or another I thought to myself.
"Bye, honey. I love you." My mom gave me a big hug, and began to cry.
"I haven't been chosen yet, you know" I said, blushing.
"I know. You're going to be okay." She finished as she gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked out of the room.
"Good luck son. You're going to need it." My father gave me a pat on the shoulder and followed my mom out of the room.
It was hard leaving the house, knowing that it could be the last time I ever see it. It was a small home, located on the outskirts of district seven. The district itself isn't very big, but it is surrounded by trees making it huge. We normally go out into the trees and cut them down, to provide lumber for the capital. Working in the forests has made me good with axes, knives, and even climbing. Fortunately, these skills could all assist me in the arena. I continued down to the district square, where hundreds of children were lined up, registering for the reaping. I joined the line with a big number 17 above it. The line moved slowly. I wasn't sure if this was because of the peace keeper's stupidity, or everyone trying to stall so they wouldn't have to register. Unfortunately, if you skip the reaping, you are sentenced to death. Finally, I made my way up to the front of the line. They pricked my finger with some kind of needle, and dripped my blood onto some piece of paper. Eventually I made my way to my grouping, which was all the seventeen year olds, in the middle of the district square. There had to be at least three hundred children eligible for the reaping this year. Everyone, including myself was pale as a ghost. Many of the younger children were crying, while the eighteen year olds were just hoping to get through this last reaping so they were safe. Well, at least until they have children. I could see many people I recognized from the forests. Since the age of ten, we are required to work in the forests. The smaller children climb the trees and cut off the smaller branches, and any fruit on them, while the bigger children help the adults cut down and prepare the lumber for the capitol.
It took about an hour, but they finally organized everyone into the proper groups. In front of us, they built a large stage. In the center, was a large glass ball filled with hundreds of slips of paper, all of which contained somebodies name. Behind that, was a large screen, which was normally used to show a message from President Snow. Two years ago, at the second Quarter Quell, President Snow made each district supply twice as many tributes as normal, in some sort of sick celebration of the Hunger Games.
"Welcome, district seven, to the 52nd annual Hunger Games reaping!" A woman boomed from the front of the stage. I recognized her as Chleo Emerton. Her large red hair, and blue lips were unmistakable. She was as pale as snow, and very short. She was wearing a dark purple dress that dropped down to her knees. She was wearing matching purple high heels. A large smile stretched across her face, as she seemed somewhat pleased to be doing what she is doing. She has been our district escort since I can remember. Every year she looks the same, as if she doesn't age.
"This year, we will choose two lucky children to participate in the Hunger Games. But first, a message from President Snow," She smiled as she moved away from the screen. The screen lit up, and a face appeared on the screen. The man was old, and had a large beard that covered his face. He began to speak. He had a low, gravelly voice that echoed through the district square.
"Welcome district seven. As I speak to you today, we are about to pick two young individuals to embark on a journey in which they will fight for the honor of your district, and all of Panem. I wish you all the best of luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor." The screen went black and he was gone. Chleo Emerton walked towards the center of the stage, raising the microphone to her mouth.
"Well, let's get to it. Shall we? As with anything," she paused, "ladies first." She reached her hand into the glass ball and pulled out a slip of paper. She unfolded it and read, "Ruby Milone."
Ruby is two years younger than I am. I have never talked to her before, but I recognized her from the forests. She wasn't very tall, in fact she was tiny, but I have seen her work before. She is the best climber in the district, and very crafty. She slowly walked up to the stage, with a look of utter disbelief on her face. She had long red hair, to match her red dress. She joined Chleo Emerton up on the stage. In the distance, I could hear crying. I figured it was someone in her family. She took her place to the right of Chleo Emerton, and I could tell she was trying to fight back tears. I couldn't imagine all the thoughts going through her head.
"Alright, thank you Ms. Milone. Now, for the gentleman to accompany her." She made it sound like it was for some sort of date. Chleo Emerton reached into the ball and pulled out another slip of paper. I was praying to whatever would listen that my name wasn't the one on that piece of paper.
Chleo Emerton paused for a moment before calling out, "Jaso Vilak."
I felt like my stomach dropped through the floor, all the way down to the center of the earth. Me. How could it be me? There is at least a hundred other young men hear who could have been pulled, and it was me. A mixture of rage and fear boiled up inside me. I wanted to scream out, go hug my mom, do anything just to escape going up to the stage. I stood there in shock, before a peace keeper came and grabbed my arm. He escorted me up to the stage where I took my place next to Chleo Emerton. She took my hand and smiled at me. She raised my arm up, as if to celebrate the fact I was about to go and die, and called out to the crowd, "Your district seven tributes!"
In the distance, I saw my mom crying, and my dad trying his best to comfort her. I knew that this was their worst dream come true. I was dragged off the stage and sent into a large building. The brought me to a small room where I was by myself. My mind began racing. I thought of all the things I'd never see again, the things I'd never do again. I began to breakdown just as my parents walked through the door. My mother wrapped her arms around me and began sobbing. My dad patted me on the shoulder like he always did.
"Mom, listen, you need to be strong. I need to you take care of yourself for me. I can't go into that arena knowing you aren't going to be okay." I said. It sounded cheesy, but it is true. Going into that arena is hard enough, but knowing that your mother is going to lose herself makes it much worse.
She stopped crying and nodded her head. I know it was hard for her, but the effort made me feel better.
"Son, you are strong enough to win this. You need to protect yourself and be smart. You can do it. You're a fighter and you need to fight your hardest to win this thing. I believe in you." My father gave me a big hug. It was the first time he has ever hugged me. I guess he figured this would be his last chance. I wasn't so sure I believed what he was staying, but I was going to fight my hardest. For the next few minutes we remained silent, and just hugged each other for the last time. A peace keeper came through the door and escorted me out of the room. He escorted me down to a limo, where we drove to the train station. As I boarded the train I looked back at the seventh district, and its surrounding forest, for the last time. The train left the station, and I left everything I had ever known.
