I wake up screaming. My body is dripping with sweat and I am panting like a dog. "Jayden!" I gasp. Jayden. The only person I've thought about for the last four years. In a couple of weeks it's the fourth anniversary-of her death. I try to forget it but it haunts me. Ever since Jayden died I've had huge trust issues. Well, she didn't exactly die. She was killed.
"Winter! It's okay," my mother says as she rushes through the creaky door, although we both know it's not because today I could be destined to finish up the way Jayden did. It's the Reaping and everyone from District 11 dreads this day. I was terrified the day Jayden was picked from the Reaping Ball as a tribute. I can still remember Corynthius Lane's weird Capitol accent announcing her name, and the way I screamed and Jayden's face went pale. I cried and kicked and punched at the Peacekeeper who took me away from my sister. Usually Jayden was so brave and bold and cool-headed, but nobody can remain like that when they've just been sentenced to death. I only had a brief time to say goodbye to her before she was taken away to the arena, never to be seen again. "I'll win for you, little snowflake. I know I can," Jayden told me through her tears. I didn't say anything, I just sobbed into her beautiful dark hair as she hugged me for the last time. She always called me Little Snowflake. I had never seen Jayden so distraught until then. She even put a brave face on when Father died. And if I'm unlucky today, I have to repeat it.
"What should I do with my hair?" I ask Mother, sleepily. "Anything you want. You have-" She stops abruptly so as not to mention my sister. She doesn't need to-we are both thinking of her. I put on the faded hand-me-down check dress that Jayden wore at the Reaping four years ago. I wish I didn't have to, but this is the best item of clothing we have in the house. I brush out my hair a bit, and walk through the village until I find Flora's house. Flora is my best friend. Ever since we were toddlers we played in the meadow and made daisy chains for each other. We still do, because there's nothing better to do. Flora is my junior by a year, but we are so close she could be my little sister. Sister. Jayden. I can't stop thinking about her. "Hi Winter," Flora says. She doesn't smile because she knows what a terrible day this is for me. It's alright for Flora, she has buckets of courage and always acts brave whatever the matter. Last year I asked her, "aren't you scared about the reaping?" and she replied, "no. Because why worry about something that has so little chance of happening?" This year her name has only been entered three times, she doesn't need tesserae. I have taken it ever since my first Reaping. My family of two are some of the poorest in District 11. Not to blame Mother, who gave up work ever since Jayden died and simply traded all of our old things for food. We hardly have enough to eat, but sometimes Flora shares hers with me. "So, shall we eat?" she asks. "Okay."
Corynthius Lane steps up to the makeshift stage. A huge television screen is behind him, and cameramen surround the stage. "Welcome, everyone, to the Reaping for the 73rd Annual Hunger Games," his harsh, amplified voice booms. Nobody claps or cheers. "Well, let's get this over with," he mutters. "We shall choose the male tribute first." Corynthius snatches the top envelope out of the ball and rips it open. "The male tribute is Brannock Lascius." I know Brannock. He's one of the only arrogant snobs here in 11. His father is the second richest person here and he always boasts about never having to starve like the rest of us. I pity whoever gets picked to go with him. Brannock looks shocked, but still smug as ever. He walks up to the stage confidently and is about to open his mouth when Corynthius announces the female tribute. He rootles around in the girls' ball until he grabs an envelope squished up at the bottom. "The female tribute is Flora Rivendell," he announces. Before I can turn around to see Flora, somebody yells out, "I VOLUNTEER!" Everyone stops, even the Peacekeepers let go of Flora. Then I realise that somebody was me.