The sun shone down brightly on the hot streets of District 11. I was walking down the bumpy dirt road, away from the orchards where I picked fruit all day, and sometimes all night. Heat waves rose off the ground and curled around me, making me sweat profusely.
I couldn't wait to get home to my brothers and sisters. They were surely hungry. Even though here in District 11 we're surrounded by fruit trees, we're not allowed to take a single piece for ourselves. The penalty for disobeying? Death. I had managed to sneak a single apple without being caught, but it certainly wouldn't be enough to feed all of us. I looked around for another food source. My eyes scanned the ground documenting every familiar plant they came across. There! Sticking up out of the ground a few feet away, a cluster of feathery leaves sprouted out of the ground. Carrots!
I quickly walked over and bent down behind a large bush to prevent being seen. Then when the coast was clear, I leaped out, grabbed a handful of smooth leaves, and yanked. A cluster of large carrots popped out of the ground. Perfect. These carrots would be enough to feed us for at least two days. I walked home with a skip in my step, happy to be able to help our family in at least some small way.
The dirt road became thinner as I neared the shack where my large family lived. There was no need to pave the bumpy streets, since it was extremely rare to own a car in District 11. Only the richest people could afford it. Usually, those people were victors. I did not envy them. The few we had were scarred for life, and the ones who couldn't bear the emotional stress had turned to drinking and drugs. As I passed the Victor's Village, I passed a man stumbling clumsily down the road, obviously trying to reach his house in the Village. I tried to walk away before he noticed me but it was to late. He leered drunkenly at me and reached out his hands.
I bolted, trying to put as much distance between the drunkard and myself as possible. Before I knew it I was standing, panting, in front of the small house my large family of eight lived in. My five younger brothers and sisters were played in the mud puddles left by recent rains. They were making mud pies and rolling around, giggling happily. I sighed. I missed the days when I was so carefree. Now I not only had to worry about providing for my family, but I also had to worry about the Reapings. I had taken out a lot of tesserae, more than most of the kids on my street. I definitely knew that the odds were not in my favor.
Dawn, my younger sister spotted me. "Day," she cried out happily. My siblings came running over, begging me to tell them what I had gotten for them to eat. I quickly brought out the shiny red apple and the plump, juicy carrots. The younger kids stared in awe at what seemed like an abundance of food to them. I might have too, if I hadn't remembered the times before my older brother and sister were reaped. I used to have a normal life. With four people providing for us we had always had enough food, enough shelter, and enough clothes for all eight of us. Then everything had been ruined. In one year, both my brother and sister had been reaped. They had gone off together and never come back.
The Capital had broadcast it as a doomed sister-brother relationship, and they were right. Both my brother and my sister were tortured and killed by the marauding Careers. Their deaths had sent the whole family into a tailspin. Suddenly we were starving, kicked out of our decent house and forced to live in a shack, and it had became a struggle to find clothes enough for all of us. Ever since then, I've been petrified of the Reapings and being forced to participate in the Hunger Games where I would surely die. My anxiety was growing ever stronger. Why? Because the Reapings for the 29th Hunger Games were tomorrow.
