When the sun rises and hits my pillow, my eyes open automatically. The birds, nested in the trees outside my window, are twittering away in a happy melody. For a second, I forget everything. I could pretend that it's just a normal day, just a normal day, just a normal day. But it's not. And that cold feeling of apprehension washes over me as I remember that it's the day of the reaping.
I roll over, suddenly too warm in my comfortable bed, and gaze at the small, digital clock that sits a top my dresser. It's nearly ten- which means that I've slept in. Shockingly, and somewhat frighteningly, my mother has refrained from her usual rousing wake up song.
I take my time getting out of bed. I usually have a way of shutting out useless thoughts from my head, but today my mind isn't listening. I can't help but imagine getting selected as tribute. With a sickening thud, I realize that somewhere else in Panem, two teenagers are being led to the capital. And that I could soon join them.
I brush these thoughts out of my mind, and then look around the room. Simple white walls, a fluffy bed and gauzy canopy, a vanity table. It's the picture of a normal girl's room in district five. And a normal girl was probably going to be selected…
Stop thinking about that! I command myself. My god, I'm getting to be as bad as Vi! Violet, my older sister, is always in constant fear of death. A rather morbid thought for a sixteen year old, but when you live in a district, it's a very real threat.
My family is about as average as they come. A father who works in the closest town as a merchant. A mother who stays home and looks after things. A sister, Violet, older by two years, who obsesses over boys and fashions. And my little brother Ollin. Whose turn it will be to be entered this year.
It's Ollin I worry for the most. Sure, most of the time he bugs the hell out of me, but I love him. And if he is picked, there is nothing I can do to help him.
I sit down at my vanity table and begin to brush out my long, sleek hair. My hair is my defining feature, as well as my namesake. My mother had been all set to name me Lindsay, but when I popped out, she was still all up on the drugs that had been administered to her. She took one look at my tiny, screaming face, bright red hair matted, and shrieked out, "Scarlett!!!"
I set down my brush and regard my reflection for a moment. I'm not as pretty as Violet, or as curvaceous as my best friend Lianna, but I'm not completely horrible. I have darty brown eyes, a sharp pointy nose, and eyebrows that arch upwards towards shiny red hair. I've been told that I look somewhat like a fox, but honestly I don't see it. I take out a tube of lip-gloss and paint a thin sheen across my pouting lips. I'm rather lucky- my skin is completely free of freckles, and while I do get the occasional zit, I generally have no acne.
Because I'm fourteen, I have my name entered three times. It's lucky that my dad does a pretty good job with work, so that I've never had to use Tesserae. Others aren't so lucky- Lianna will be entered six times this year. Other people even more. The odds are entirely in my favor. And Ollin's, entered only once. And even Violet, who will be entered five times. Really, I have nothing to worry about. So why am I still worried?
It's around eleven when I finally put on my dress. I've spent the last half hour reading and paging through my books, just incase the unthinkable should happen. My dress is an old one of Vi's, too tight around the chest and too loose in other places. I've grown, evidently. Still, it suits me fine. It's black, with a small black flower on the right corner. It ends right above my knees and is tied in a halter-top around my neck. I slip on a pair of Mary Janes, then walk downstairs.
I still have an hour before the reaping, but I'm going stir crazy trapped in my house. My mother is sitting at the dining room table, bawling her eyes out. And no one's even been chose yet. I clench my fists, nails biting into my palms, and head for the front door.
My father is sitting on the couch, watching TV. I can't help but look up as I pass, and realize, with a jolt, that he is watching some other district's reaping. I feel sick and move away, but not before he realizes that I'm there.
He looks up at me, sadness in his eyes. "Sad stuff," he mutters, clenching and then releasing the pillow in his lap. "Some girl just volunteered herself to save her little sister. Real cute, real small. Doesn't stand a chance."
I nod, feeling even worse. What if that happened to me? If I got picked, would Violet save me? I think she might, and feel a bit relieved. "What district?" I force myself to ask.
"12." So he's right. They haven't produced a winner in like thirty years. She really doesn't stand a chance.
Ollin is out on the front porch when I stomp out. He looks surprisingly handsome in a suit that I'm sure my mother forced him into. He's reading a comic book- something I have never had the time or patience for. He looks up and says, "Good luck, Scarlett."
"You too, squirt." I respond. "Not that you'll need it. You only have one entry."
"Yeah, well, whatever." he mutters, not caring enough to continue the argument. He looks back down to the pages of his book, where muscle men in tights and underwear always win. And the only person that ever gets hurt is the bad guy.
I am so angry with this thought that I can't help myself. I pull the comic book from his hands and throw it into the yard. A splash follows, and I realize with vindictive pleasure that it must have landed in the fountain.
"Hey!" He yelps. "I was reading that!"
"Welcome to real life." I say, then walk down the front steps.
***
The square is filling up by the time I reach it.
District Five is where, before all the wars and naturally disasters and stuff, it used to be some pretty place called California. We're pretty small as far as districts go- only about 500,000 people. And its this many people that must attend the reaping. Velvet ropes mark where the different age groups must stand, and I find myself ushered into the fourteen year old group. Lianna grip my arm, biting her lip in worry.
"I'm so nervous!" she exclaims, batting her big blue eyes. From the looks of the boy around us, you can tell that she'd have no problem coming up with a volunteer if boys were allowed to volunteer for girls.
"I know!" I say. "But we probably don't have anything to worry about. Right?"
"Right!" Lily shrieks, coming up from behind me. "We're fine! We all have under eight entries, and so probably older kids will be picked!"
I glance towards the sixteen year old section, and see Violet, standing still and beautiful, talking to her friends.
"Don't worry, Scarlett." Lianna coaxes. "It'll be fine. Really."
I force myself to smile at her. But it's an effort.
Suddenly trumpets are blaring, and we all turn to face the stage that has been set up in the middle of our biggest square. The mayor stands, looking peevish, at attention, then turns to face us, the audience. He talks for a long time about the Hunger Games, introducing it to us as if we haven't watched people from our district being killed every year.
I look past the mayor to the chairs set up on top of the stage. There are four. Taro, our district's escort, sits in one of them. One is empty- that one belongs to the mayor, still gesturing wildly at the crowd. In the other chairs sit our two most recent Hunger Games winners. Lupe, a tall and blonde girl who's probably about twenty-four sits and waves at us, at the camera, and at greater Panem. The boy mentor, a surly man named Regilus, crosses his arms and stares us down.
Lianna's grip on my arm tightens, and I snap back to attention. Taro has grabbed the microphone and is chirping away in her silly capitol accent. Now she pulls the mic from its stand and walks over to the glass bowl for girls. She fumbles around in it for a moment, her face drawn in concentration. When she takes the scrap of paper out and unfolds it, she smiles in relief. Then she turns to face the camera.
"Do we have a Scarlett Redwood in the house?" she sings, and I nearly faint.
