Part 1: The Reaping
I stand up from my bed, looking out of the window to see the grey skies of District 12. My stomach aches with hunger; no proper food has entered it in three days. It's the same for my mother, father, and three sisters. Sometimes utter hatred enters my mind when I think of my parents, wondering why they would be so selfish to bring children into a world of starvation, with a chance that one of them may be forced to fight to the death on live television just to entertain the capitol. The Hunger Games. Days like this make me wonder why the Capitol didn't just destroy every single district in the dark days of the war. They want us to suffer, that is the only reason.
My sisters are safe, for the moment. My eldest sister, Bluebell is ten; the other two, Dahlia and Adira, who are twins, are both six. I am not as lucky, the age you have to be to be entered into the games is twelve to eighteen. I am fifteen. Although, what are the chances? I haven't signed up for any tesserae, I have struggled to survive on barely any food because of that cause, so my name is has only been entered once. I have a one in thousands of a chance! This is what I tell my family anyway and they agree. Secretly my heart is pounding in my chest and my stomach flips every time I think of my name being pulled out of that glass bowl.
I walk downstairs, listening to the creak of the steps, wondering if in four hours I will be back home, celebrating with my family, or if I will be walking through the justice building to my death. Yes, I know it will be my death if I go, I am small, not strong and you can count each individual rib above my stomach. Not that is any different for any other district; accept one and two because the Capitol favours them, helps them even. I have no skills whatsoever. I spend most of my days chucking pebbles and rocks at trees, hoping that maybe an apple or some nuts would fall out. I never have much luck. It would be far easier to collect food if I could teach myself to hunt and brave going into the woods, but I could never risk being caught, it's too dangerous. If you are found hunting you can be whipped, or even executed.
We sit down at the dinner table and eat our breakfast; some burnt bread Adira found on the floor just outside of The Seam, in silence. Bluebell looks at me several times willing herself to say something and then thinks better as she can probably see the look of distress on my face. None of us need an argument on the day of the reaping, our precious time as a family may be cut off this afternoon, if I'm that unlucky. I can hear Effie Trinket, our district escort, in my head. 'May the odds be ever in your favour.' The odds can't be in two people's favour anyway. Effie is an odd looking woman, pale white skin and pink hair, the fashion in the Capitol. As I am sure all of the Capitol escorts are, Effie is not exactly sympathetic. Every year she rambles on about how it is an honour to represent your district in the Games. It is more like a death wish if you ask me. I never understand why people would train and volunteer to be in the Games, these people are mostly from District 1, 2 and 4, who get the most food and therefore have the advantage over the rest of the malnourished districts. I'm guessing that is why, so that children who haven't had the time to train, don't have to go in. In a way, I guess they are sacrificing themselves as obviously not all Careers can come out alive and sometimes none do. This is not very often though, looking at them is enough to make you want to surrender and ask for a quick, painless death. I remember once watching a Hunger Games a couple of years ago, where a twelve year old girl practically begged them to spear their knives through her chest as they walked towards her. That was the most brutal year I had seen of the Games.
I help my two sisters get dressed into their finery, tying different coloured bows into their dark blonde hair; they twirl around giggling to themselves about how they look like grown-ups. I can't help but chuckle myself. I then get dressed into my blue pinafore dress, it isn't really finery, but we can't afford anything else.
I wander into my parents' room and lie on top of their bed, inhaling the fresh smell of their pillows. My mother joins me, lying next to me and looking straight into my eyes.
"What are you thinking Pippa?" She asks softly.
"I'm thinking, what if I get picked?" I reply, clearing my throat.
"You won't my darling." Says Mother, but her voice is laced with the slightest bit of doubt.
I do my chores of the morning with Bluebell, hanging the washing, both competing for the silliest place to drape it. We all then sit down for lunch. There is nothing but a few berries my father picked and the remainder of the burnt loaf. We divide it into rations and carefully nibble on our food, making sure we don't eat too quickly. We need to savour everything.
My family and I walk to the square where the reaping is held hand in hand. I can feel that my palms are soaked in sweat due to my anxiety. As we get closer to the square I see the crowds of people and Peacekeepers, feeling more and more uneasy. My stomach doesn't want to hold my food any longer, so I run to the side of the road and rid my body of the small amount of sustenance I have consumed this week. I can feel body still shaking when I get into the square and queue up for the reaping. My parents and siblings give me a kiss goodbye and assure me everything is going to be alright.
"Listen to me Pippa, I promise, you will not be picked." Says Mother, but not very convincingly.
I get into the queue. A Peacekeeper takes my name and pricks my finger, it doesn't hurt much, but I can't help flinching. The weather turns and the teenagers of District 12 stand there, cold and petrified in the pouring rain. Our hair dripping, our noses streaming from the cold.
"Hello young members of District 12!" Says Effie Trinket, our district escort.
I groan to myself, standing alone in the corner of the crowd, not feeling like making conversation with anyone.
Effie talks about the same things as she does every annual Hunger Games, the reason they exist, talking about the dark days. After what feels like hours, the Peacekeepers project a video made by the Capitol, which has already been played seventy six times.
Eventually the reaping is finally commenced.
"Ladies first!" Exclaims Effie.
I hear the panic of the crowd and see a girl try to run out, calling to her mother. She is captured by the Peacekeepers and shot immediately. She only looked about twelve years old. I can hear the cries of her family until they are also taken away, who knows where too. No one else in the crowd reacts much as this is a normal day in twelve, since the security has been heightened.
Effie's face remains calm and she clears her throat.
"Anyway. The first tribute for District 12 in the 77th Hunger Games is,"
I hold my breath while she pauses for effect. You could hear a pin drop at this point. I feel like my lungs are about to explode when I hear her utter the words:
"Philippa Mayflower."
I hear Bluebell cry out, screaming my name.
It takes me at least thirty seconds before it sinks in. They just said my name. I feel my head getting dizzy, and then my legs give way. I feel the Peacekeepers pick me up and carry me to the stage. A noise of pain escapes from my lips. My mother promised. She promised me.
I know that nobody would volunteer for me, we're all cowards here in District 12, if you're picked, that's it. You're going in.
My feet smash to the ground and the Peacekeepers help me to stand upright. I feel that I am about to scream, so many thoughts are flying around my head. Then I remember that the Capitol audience do not pity you, so I regain my composure, every single camera on me.
I look out into the crowd, to see my Mother sobbing on my Father's shoulder, my sisters eyes fixated on me. I give out a forced smile, trying to look confident, though my head feels as if it is burning up.
Effie continues.
"The second tribute is… Caspar Greenlaw."
Him. The boy that has, what felt like, tortured me since I first started school. Making my life a living hell, pulling my hair, kicking my shins, telling the whole school evil tales about my family. I hate him.
I burst out laughing, and then remember that it can't be good for the camera, or for the people of District 12 watching me. That small mistake could cost me something vital in the arena. I quickly close my mouth and force my hand to shake his. He is the one person in this district that I am glad he also will probably not come out alive.
So that's it, Caspar Greenlaw and I, the District 12 tributes.
My body slams into the back wall of a small white room. This is the Tribute Room in the Justice Building. Caspar and I look at each other for a brief moment, while I struggle not to strangle him on the spot. Soon after, we get taken to separate rooms. Tributes get an hour for visits. The only time I get to say goodbye.
I see Mother walk in and I turn around so I am facing the wall. My fists clench and I strike, making a huge dent in the bright white paint. My knuckles start to bleed, dripping blood onto the clean floor. Oh well, I'm not going to be here to pay for it when I'm dead. I turn back around as I remember I don't have long to talk to my family.
"Pippa my darling," Mother says, a tear running down her cheek.
"What?" I hiss.
"You must do everything in your power to win these Games, okay? Not just for me, or you, but for your sisters. They won't be able to cope without you here."
"Why? None of you need me? You could cope fine, I don't help this family, and I'm just a burden, costing more money for you than I'm worth."
Another tear drops down Mother's cheek, she shakes her head.
"No. No Pippa!" She says, raising her voice – suddenly angry.
"I probably won't last an hour. Look at me, I am weak and I have no skills. Nobody will want to form an alliance. No one will even sponsor me after my outburst earlier!" I can feel my face heating up with rage. "Caspar will make sure I'm his first target and we all know that his arrows never miss!"
This was true; I have seen Caspar in the woods before, hunting. His arrows go directly towards his prey's heart. In a week, it will probably be mine.
She froze. Knowing that whatever she says to me won't change anything; we both know I will die.
"Just hug me and go, this is too painful anyway." I choked, trying hard to be strong and hold back the tears.
"Just remember that I love you and I can't wait to see you when you get home. We will make everything lovely for you, make your homecoming better than you can imagine!"
I hugged her tightly, clinging to her like a little girl.
"I love you so much." I reply.
She turned around slowly; raising her hand to her face to wipe away tears. Then she leaves.
Shortly after, my Father walks in, my sisters following him. As soon as they see me Adira and Dahlia sprint, jumping on me and making me topple over. They look at me uneasily, so I start giggling - hoping it will stop the tension. They take this heavy hint and laugh a little too much until my Father tells them to simmer down. He opens his arms and I burrow into his warm arms, protecting me like a shield. I rub my cheek against the soft material of his jumper.
"Now my little fruit pip." Father says, tickling my nose. "You have to be alert at all times, hit with force and dodge their attacks. Okay my little champion?" The first bit of good advice of the day.
"I'll try; I just don't know how I'm going to make it without you." I say, breathing deeply.
His lip wobbles; the power of my words finally hit him. He pulls me into his arms again, as I sniffle quietly. We must be standing for minutes as my youngest sisters start to fidget.
"Shut up you two!" Bluebell snaps.
I walk over to her and stare into her bright blue eyes.
"I can't say anything worthy Pippa, but I know you can do it. I need my big sister and you will come back." She said, with a pleading look in her eyes.
"Okay, I'll do it just for you." I reply.
I hug my youngest sisters. They all start to walk away and I blow each of them a kiss. They all pretend to catch them and press them to their hearts. My Father catches my eye and a tear drops to the floor. The door closes and they're gone.
I run to the doorway and touch the patch of ground where his tear fell. My body slowly slides down the wall and I can feel myself curl up into a defensive ball. Tears come out in floods until my hair is dripping wet and my throat hurts. I'm all alone now.