I was only six when Gloss was reaped at age sixteen for the Hunger Games. Mama, Papa, Cashmere, and I didn't expect him to come home, but he won the Games. I don't really remember much of it, but Mama says as soon as he stepped off the starting plates, everyone could tell he was going to win.
Then the next year was when all sense of 'fair' was blown from my mind. Cashmere, age thirteen, was reaped. Even after Cashmere made it through the Games, Mama would always talk about "conspiracies" and that Cashmere being reaped was staged.
Even after Gloss and Cashmere were back home, the following years, I still lived a pretty normal life, for the next eight years. I would go to school, I would hang out with friends, and then I would go home to our house. It wasn't a shack, per se, but it was a decent sized house. Gloss and Cashmere both had their own fancy houses in Victors' Village, but they never really were there. They preferred to stay in their rooms at our house. Cashmere let me go over to her house to play house with my friends, for a few years. Then I outgrew that, and we all just stayed in our house in town.
With both my siblings richer than the average person, I was quite spoiled. Cashmere would lavish me with toys and clothes and treats like cake and cookies.
When I was sixteen, the worst part of my life came. We were at the Reaping, like we are every year. It's just a way of life here in District 1.
Armilla Cassiopeia, the escort from the Capitol, walked up onto the stage. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen, this year we have a short presentation put together by the Capitol," she said, cueing the film. It is a projected image onto a plain white canvas that the peacekeepers hung last week. The presentation is the same film that the Capitol has played in all the districts every Reaping Day.
After the film, Armilla steps up to the microphone. "Let's have a little round of applause!" she said cheerily in her Capitol accent. We clap for a bit, before she speaks again. "Time for the Reaping! May the odds be ever in your favor!" she said and then Armilla put her hand inside the girls' Reaping Ball. "Glimmer Namour!" she called out. That was me. I stepped out into an aisle. I walked to the platform and up the stairs. I seemed to float up the steps. I tried to give a little wave to the crowd, but my arms won't cooperate. Trying to lift my right arm, but it refused to move. "Glimmer!" I hear Cashmere shriek from where the mentors have to sit. I knew why. I either die in the arena, or I come out a victor, like my brother and sister. I am the third person in my family of five to be in the Games. The chances of my winning are one in twenty-four. I guess the odds aren't really in my favor.
"Alright, now for the boys," Armilla said as she steps over to the boys' Reaping Ball, and sticks her hand inside.
"Marvel Sprocket!" Armilla shouted. A boy around my age stepped out of the crowd and came up to the platform. He has light hair and gray eyes.
"Let's give a round of applause to the tributes of the 74th Hunger Games!" Armilla said into the microphone. I felt my head spinning. My knees started to buckle. I couldn't see. I collapsed to the floor and blacked out just as the crowd started to clap.
When I came to, I appeared to be on a couch. A nurse was dabbing my forehead with a damp cloth. "Good, you're awake. I'll let your family know. They want to say goodbye," the nurse said, standing up.
Mama and Papa came in first. "Gloss and Cashmere won't be coming in to say goodbye, since they'll be coming to the Capitol with you. They'll be your mentors, you know."
I nodded. I sat up and hugged Mama. "Be confident in yourself, I'm sure you'll win," she said. Papa hugged me. He didn't say anything. We sat there, until the peacekeeper came in to take Mama and Papa out. "Goodbye, Glimm," Papa said. Mama and Papa waved on their way out. They have every confidence that I will win. I hope they are right. Not for my sake, but for theirs. It must have been terrible to watch their two older children go through the Hunger Games, and then have their third child reaped.
I had no other visitors, no well-wishers. Armilla came in with two Peacekeepers, and Marvel. "Time to go, darling," Armilla said, still too cheerily for my liking.
"Coming," I said, standing. One of the Peacekeepers grabbed my arm. "I don't need you to hold me. I wouldn't want to run away anyways," I said, trying to sound brave, and like I actually wanted to go into the Hunger Games. He reluctantly let go of my arm. I soon regretted saying that, because I started to feel lightheaded. When my knees started to buckle, I grabbed for the Peacekeeper. He supported me, and we reached the carriage that would take us to the train station. We were instructed to get into the carriage. Marvel got in first, and he sat on the left side. Armilla sat in the middle, and I got in the right side. I craned my neck to see out the back window, just in time to see the two Peacekeepers swing themselves up onto the back. Apparently there is a seat back there, in the open air. I turned to face forwards, after Armilla glares at me.
After several minutes, we reached the train station. It was my first time ever on a train. I knew it would be Marvel's first time as well, because there is no traveling between districts, unless you work on the trains to transport food and supplies to the districts and the Capitol or become a Peacekeeper.
"Out, out, out," Armilla shoes me out of the carriage. I climb out and am standing on the train platform. The Peacekeepers escort us onto the train. Armilla showed me to a sleeping compartment on the train. "Please get cleaned up before dinner," Armilla said, pointing to the bathroom.
"When will we be to the Capitol?" I asked.
"We should reach the Capitol by nightfall," replied Armilla.
After I change and wash my hands and face, I exit the room and make my way to the dining car. Marvel is already sitting at a table with Gloss and Cashmere. I sit between Gloss and Cashmere and Armilla comes and sits with us.
"Gloss, Cashmere," I nod towards my brother and my sister.
"Glimmer, please call your mentors Mr. Namour and Miss Namour," Armilla corrects me with a scornful look.
"Armilla, please. Glimm is my little sister," Cashmere says
"Oh, pardon me, Cashmere, I didn't know," bubbles Armilla. I laugh and hear Gloss snort.