I wake up to the sound of a tree being chopped down. This is how I arise every morning, to the sound of young men and women grunting as they haul the heavy ax back up to make another notch in the tree.
After I bathe I slip on a pair of pajamas. I spritz on some of my pine needle cologne and head downstairs to eat breakfast. My mother has prepared me a bowl of steaming hot grain with maple syrup drizzled on top. The syrup is a specialty because it's reaping day. I gobble up the bowl of grain as it may be the last thing my Ma will ever cook me.
I can't think that way, I can't. I can't keep away the thought that I may be reaped today.
After I get dressed up in my light green shirt and white slacks, I walk down to 7's square. The trees' aroma fill my district's air.
I get into line for my blood test and after they prick my finger, I go to the seventeen year old section.
Our district escort, Valeria Aldijoy, struts down to the microphone and chirps "Happy 37th Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!", as if any of us actually want to be here.
"The Capitol has sent a special video!" Valeria exclaims. We watch the video that we watch every year and after that our escort quickly walks to the girls bowl.
"Ladies first!" she screeches. She plucks a slip of paper and reads the poor girl's name whose odds are not in her favor.
"Carla Jenkins!"
A thin girl emerges from the 15 year old section. She is shivering horrendously. She musters the courage to stop shaking and step up onto stage.
"Now for our boy tribute!" yells Valeria.
I feel confident that I won't get chosen but when she calls the name my heart starts pounding.
"Colton Smith!"
What! This can't be happening! Only 2 more years and I could've been safe from the crazy, sick Hunger Games!
I walk out of the 17 year old section and get on the stage. I try to look tough but I know everybody sees my tears.
Me and Carla shake hands and are whisked off to the Justice building.
