I wake up to the sound of my mother making breakfast. It's really early in the morning but oh well. It's reaping day. Might as well get up early and spend time with your family. Who knows if you'll get Reaped. I grab my water shoes and slip them on. I grab a fishing net from the closet. It may be reaping day, but it's stupid not to try and make some money while I can. Someone has to make the dough to be able to afford food dye and pancake mix, am I right?

I run over to my mother and grab some bacon, kiss her on the cheek, and stuff my cheeks with bacon. I head out of our house and run toward the shore, where I know I will see my best friend in the whole wide world, Grover Underwood.

First, let me tell you... Grover is a bit weird. He has these crutches he always has even though I've seen him walk without them. I just think he likes to get out of work by playing the injury card. He's watched me fish enough in the water, as it is. My mom says I should stop hanging out with lazy bums who don't even work. Whatever. It's better than hanging out with blood-thirsty tributes.

"Hey, Perce!" Grover waves over at me. He's lying on the beach on a towel, wearing a bathing suit and his curly hair bouncing in every direction. I'm jealous, to be honest. Wish my hair had the same volume and shine! Hehe, just kidding. My hair sticks up in every way too, just mine is more messy and more like I just rolled out of bed./p

"Stop calling me 'Percy' Grover." I laugh. Perseus is my full name but I don't like that either. According to Greek legends, Perseus is a son of Zeus, and if anything, I would be a son of Poseidon. Have you seen me swim? I can swim so well, even the fish stop to ask me for my autograph. It helps having 14 years of experience. I've been swimming since I was 3. I'm 17 now and I still act like a 5 year old.

"Aw, you know you like it." Grover chuckles. "So, how's it with Rachel?"

Tough subject, bro. Rachel is my girlfriend. We've been dating for... what? 3... 4 years? Feels like forever. All we do is argue now. "Doin' just fine." I lie.
"Still fighting?"

"Nah. We're good. Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure." Grover looks over at me as I sit down next to him in the sand. "What do you think about the Games?"

I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone is listening. Who knows what the Capitol might overhear us say. I don't want to risk it. "Something else."

"I know you feel like this year will be something different. You can feel it." Grover pressed.

"The only thing I can feel is you breathing down my neck. We'll be fine, dude. There are like a billion of us who are just as eligible as us. I'm sure we won't get picked." I laugh it off. Seriously, though, I have felt a bad feeling in my gut. Something might happen. It shouldn't matter of course. Here in District 4, everyone wouldn't mind for a shot at the Games. At least we aren't as blood thirsty as District 2. Those guys can be pretty... well, you get the point.

Grover sighs and looks at the ocean. It's low tide at the moment, perfect for catching crabs. I get up and grab a bucket, running toward the rocks. Lifting one boulder up, I see 5 little red-shelled buggers running for cover. I scoop up three of them (the other two got away) and place them in the bucket. After a while, my bucket is full.

I run back to Grover and wish him good luck in the Capitol way. "May the odds be emever /emin your favor."/p

"To you too!" He says back in the high-pitched Capitol accent. Pretty soon we're laughing and saying our goodbyes. We won't see each other until the Reaping. Oh dear gods. Please let me have some good luck, or odds in my favor, or whatever!/p
...

I am buttoning up my crisp white dress shirt and pulling on a fresh pair of black dress pants. Reapings expect you to look nice. Wouldn't want to be called to your death and be looking like a hobo at the same time, right?

My mom stands in the doorway with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Percy. You look so handsome." /p

"I smile and walk over to her. I'm taller than her by at least three inches. My mop of black hair and sea green eyes don't compare to her blue eyes and brown hair. She tells me at least twice a day how much I looked like my father before he died in a fishing boat accident. Lost at sea, apparently. Sometimes I have dreams of other things, though. Of him. He sits on a high and mighty throne in the Capitol, surrounded my men and women looking like him, but a little different. Sometimes he holds a trident is a sky full of clouds or has his body submerged and water. He doesn't even suffocate. He just breathes the water. I've never tried breathing water but it sounds painful... and stupid.

"Like Dad?" I ask. She nods and wipes the back of her hand across her eyes. "Just like him." She laughs. Pulling her into a hug, I kiss the top of her head. Most likely I'll see her again but right now, she sounds like she can use some sentiment. She hasn't seen me in half a year, I guess. I went on a school trip a long way across the District and I couldn't visit or call her because only officials are allowed phones. "Food?" I ask. Honestly, my stomach sounds like a whale mating call. "

Sure. How 'bout some of that crab you caught this morning?"""How 'bout... yeah." I chuckle and nod.

We walk together to the town circle, where the Reaping will be taking place. I give my mom a hug and file into place. I'm in a clump of smaller 17 year olds. They're small because I'm tall, really tall. A lot of them have sandy blond hair and green, a lot of the time, blue eyes. We nod at each other and look ahead.

"Standing on the stage besides Finnick Odair, 65th Hunger Games victor, Annie Cresta, 70th Hunger Games victor, and our mayor, stands a posh Capitol woman with a silly purple wig. We know her as Drew Tanaka. Funny little thing she is. She wears WAY too much makeup and a different colored wig everyday. Last Hunger Games, she wore a rainbow wig to the Reaping and she practically looked like a clown with her clothes. Oh, her clothes. This year she wears a purple and pink paint splattered dress and it looked like someone created the ugliest shape of dress possible and poured paint buckets all over it.

"Welcome, welcome! To the 74th annual Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!" She smiles and walks over to the female Reaping bowl. I stifle a laugh as she hobbles on her ten inch heals of ugliness. "Ladies first!" She says like all other escorts for the Games.

She reaches into the bowl and digs around until she snagged the name of the poor, unfortunate soul who will be contending in the Games. She reads the name loud and clear. "Annabeth Chase!" The cameras of the big screen behind Drew circle in on a blonde hair girl with stormy gray eyes. That's a bit unusual here, gray eyes. I decide not to question it.

Her gray eyes are wide and full of fear as she steps out of her clump of teenage girls onto the stage platform. Drew plants a hand on Annabeth's arm and guides her to center stage. "Now, for the boys!" She smiles and walks over to the bowl in which I have 32 entries with my name on it. Times were tough, I had to get the Tesserae.

She places her hand in the bowl and draws out a name. I suck in my gut, hoping, praying it isn't me.
But Drew has another agenda. She walks up to the microphone and says, "For the male Tribute..." She opens the paper. "Perseus Jackson."
All I could think was, Of course. It's always me. And I step up to take my place.

((More on my Wattpad /mockingjayk76 I don't use this account a lot so it will be more updated on Wattpad)) ((I just posted it on here for my bae 3))