In a future America, the country called Panem is divided into 12 districts and one capitol. In a small house in district 3, a man is lying on the bed. His face is as pale as the ghost that he will inevitably become very soon. A wife, soon to be widow, holds his hand and tells him it will be OK, though even she can't hide the shaking and catching in her voice. A young girl of three walks into the room, and runs to her father.
"Daddy, what's wrong?" she asks.
"I'm not very well sweetheart," he breathes, trying to force a faint smile "promise me you'll look after mummy when I'm gone."
"But where are you going?"
"Somewhere peaceful."
"Daddy, I don't want you to go. Stay here with me and mummy." The girl begins to cry, tears rolling down her soft, chubby cheeks.
"I don't want to go either honey, but I have no choice." the man says, his eyes drooping.
"But daddy…" the girl cries, as her mother shuts her into the next room "Daddy!" she screams, trying to open the door. She claws at it, not understanding what is going on. Scarlet blood appears at her finger-nails; her voice becomes hoarse with screaming.
I wake up, covered in sweat and panting. I shove the sheets into my mouth to mute the unstoppable screaming coming from it. After 5 minutes of the screams, I calm down and look at the time. 6:57 am. Usually I'd go back to sleep, but as I snuggle down I remember the date and a weight drops in my stomach. Reaping day. Let the 81st Hunger Games begin!
