Two
It's nearly 10 am.
I shake in my dress and stockings, nervous. My mom awaits at the door for me, my father not too far away. He gives me a pat on my shoulder, as if he forgot everything that happened last night. "Be brave, Lili." He says. And that's all. I'm out the door. I'm walking down the streets.
I am in the center of town, where crowds of people are settling. I join the girls and begin to take deep breaths. People stare. Do they know? I close my eyes, trying to calm myself.
"Lili, has a gift." I hear a light voice say. I open my eyes and I see my teacher, Ms. Jay. I look up at my father who sits by me and smiles, holding my mother's hand. The room is decorated with maps and pictures of fish and art. "She's smart and well, very talented. She runs faster and longer than the other children. In fact, we want to train her."
"For what?" My mother whispers, her voice becoming hollow.
"For the Hunger Games."
"Like a Career?" My dad smiles. I smile too. Ms. Jay nods. "I thought they don't do that anymore…" My mom whispers. I didn't know much about the Hunger Games. I watched them every year but I was only 6. I thought it was all a game. I never fully understood that everybody dies. Well, almost everybody. My mom grows pale as my dad becomes radiant. "I agree." He says.
Ever since that day I trained 5 days a week. Morning to (sometimes) night. I didn't have any friends in the district but I was well-known. "Don't kill me!" The kids would joke. Of course, they had seen me running miles around the district or shooting targets. It didn't matter with what. They feared me. They were intimidated. And I took pride in that. Until I was 12.
Until they began talking about me going into the arena.
I open my eyes and realize that I am not 6. I am 16 and I am awaiting my death. "Ladies and gentlemen of District 4…" a voice announces. A man in a bright blue suit taps the microphone. "I would like to welcome you to the 110th annual reaping day. " His voice is deep and smooth. He continues on about what the reaping is about and how it is an honor to be picked. "I'm certain most you are aware of the rules of the reaping...If you volunteer you cannot change your mind, and only one volunteer per tribute. First come, first serve."
My heart raced at the thought of volunteering. I began moving up toward the front of the crowd, making the process of volunteering easier on myself. I could only hope somebody would volunteer before me but I have to be realistic. Career tributes aren't as popular as they were thirty years ago. "Let's start with the ladies, shall we?"