Shut up, Hazel. They all think I'm arrogant and cold-hearted, that I care about no one at all. Well, at this point, maybe, I don't care about anybody. Since I'm the oldest in my family that's eligible for the "games" I'm forced to take tesserae for my entire family. In conclusion, even though this is my third time in the reaping I have nine entry's in the reaping. District Seven doesn't usually take tesserae unless you're on the more poorer side, like my family
I get dressed in a faded green dress. I usually never care about my appearance but today I decided to at least do my hair. When I walk into the kitchen my mother glares at me with her evil brown eyes. She's never respected me as much as my other six siblings. They're all sweet and sensitive when I'm more stone-faced and tough, as they say. I hear the bell which signifies the reaping is starting. I grab my sisters hand. It's her first reaping but I know she'll never get reaped, though to her that doesn't matter because she's still crying. I drag her all the way to the square. "After they prick your finger go to the little kids section, okay?" I stare into her eyes very intently. Maybe I do care about her. I walk over to the middle-aged children section where my "acquaintance" nudged me on the shoulder and smiled. Probably to reassure me that I'll never get picked. Although, I know I'm the only fourteen year old with nine entry's.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of District Seven," our escort Ruthe tapped the microphone to receive our attention. They played a video on the dark days which they show every single year to remind us that the districts can never out-shine the Capitol. "Now for the reaping! Like usual, ladies first," she daintily plunged her hand in the glass ball which held all the female names of the children eligible for the reaping in District Seven. "Kalia Cleaver!"
When she called my name I stood silently in awe. I think I heard my sister's cry from far away but I was technically unconscious. I walked stiffly up the stage and stood next to Ruthe. "Now for the boys!" Ruthe said that a little too cheerfully. "Palmer Jack!" she waves the paper in the air as the outstandingly good-looking boy walks up the stage "Let's have a round of applause for our District Seven tributes!".
She takes our hands and walks us into the Justice Hall. This is the time where our parents and friends are supposed to come and say goodbye although nobody comes for me. Figured. I've always been the one everyone disliked. Too "fierce and tough". Not only in appearance, because I'm actually very slim and skinny, but also mentally. I never let anyone see what I'm feeling or thinking so they think I have no heart. They think I'm an idiot.
"I peek through a door and see Palmer, his family, and his friends all saying their, maybe, last goodbyes. I cringe at the fact that we'll both probably be dead in the next month or so. I cringe at the fact of death it-self. I hide behind a pillar as his crew leaves. I decide to take another peak before I get caught and I see the tall, beautiful, tough-looking boy on the ground weeping. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.