CHAPTER 1: The Reaping

I wake up to the sun just beginning to rise. I roll over and try to go back to sleep, but then I remember: it's Reaping Day. The day the Capitol chooses one "lucky" boy and girl from each District to compete in the annual Hunger Games, a televised event where 24 kids are placed in an arena to fight to the death, while their families spend each day in gripping terror and the Capitol residents sit back and watch with a bowl of popcorn. Every year, it's a source of anxiety for me, despite coming from a Career District. In the part of District 4 that I come from, we spend less time training and more time fishing, since the majority of us will never be in the Hunger Games anyway, or at least that's what the Peacekeepers tell us. Personally, I want to be prepared for if I ever do get Reaped, but in Panem, you never question authority. You do what the Peacekeepers tell you and try not to get into any trouble. So I do just that.

Now that the realization has to come me that it's Reaping Day, there is no way I am getting back to sleep. I get up and sit by the window, and watch the sun come up. The Reaping isn't until noon, but now that the sun is up and sleep is no longer an option, I gather my fishing pole and lures and walk outside to the lake. District 4 is the fishing district, so all of us are taught from a very early age to fish, swim, make nets, and anything else that will help us catch enough fish to supply all of Panem. Or, that's how it's supposed to be. But it seems the Capitol skimps off on most of the other Districts. I get in my canoe and paddle out to where most of the fish stay. I try to fish, but my mind keeps drifting to the Reaping. I sigh and put down my paddle, watching the sunlight glint off the water. There are little waves, and the rocking of the boat is relaxing. I lay back and try to clear my head. All of a sudden, I open my eyes and the sun is high in the sky. I curse under my breath and paddle quickly back home. "Where have you been?" my mother asks in surprise. "I haven't seen you all morning!" "Fishing" I say quickly as I rush into my room. On my bed lays a white sundress, one of my mom's favorites. "Of course, have to look nice for the Reaping." I think to myself. I put it on and brush out my hair, the anxiety rising in my chest. I don't know why I'm so worried. Being 15, my name is only in 3 times. I take a deep breath and walk out into the kitchen, where my mother is waiting. She smiles at me. "You look beautiful." She says. I try to smile back, convincingly, to hide the anxiety creeping up inside me, growing heavier and stronger with each minute. But my mother knows. She can see it in my eyes. Thankfully, though, she doesn't say anything, just gives my shoulder a squeeze as we walk out of the house, through the town, towards the Square where the Reaping takes place.

By the time we reach the Square, it is crowded, all of District 4 crammed together. It's loud and hot, and all I want is for it to be over with. For the representative from the Capitol to announce the tributes, and for me to go home, relieved, and not have to feel this crippling anxiety until next year. Even more, I wish I could fast forward through time, fast forward to the end of the day. There is nothing I hate more than seeing the faces of the children as they are called up the stage, the sheer terror on their faces, their families in shock. It's awful, the whole thing. I bite my lip as the representative from the Capitol comes up to the microphone. In a happy, chirping voice that seems highly inappropriate considering she is pretty much about to give 2 children a death sentence, she says, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be EVER in your favor!" She smiles, and it stirs something in my stomach. She reaches her perfectly groomed hand, complete with bright pink nails, into the reaping ball and pulls out a small slip of paper. My stomach churns, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. "And our lucky young lady is…" I close my eyes, trying to block out her chirpy voice. And then it happens. And it's all I can do not to black out, right there in the middle of the Square.

"Annie Cresta!"