Beep, beep beep. Pause. Beep, beep, beep. Pause. Beep beep bee-
I slam my hand down on the snooze button. The metallic droning ceases. I prop myself up and stretch my arms above my head, swinging my legs over the edge of the operating table and tentatively touching the tile floor with a single toe. It's cold. It's always cold. I sigh, and tiptoe over to the cabinet, walking on the balls of my feet, trying to make as little contact with the floor as possible. I open up the beige cabinet doors, and pull out my pink and white striped nurse's smock. I pulled the smock over my head, the fabric stiff and uncomfortable against my skin. I grab my apron and tied it around my waist, and then tuck a stethoscope, syringe, and clipboard in my pocket. The stiff white knee socks go over my feet, and then I pull on the standard white tennis-shoes. With my ensemble complete, I step over to the mirror. Same limp , straight, blonde hair. Same green eyes, same tiny freckles in the same scattered places. I turn on the sink and splash my face, then dry myself off with a towel. I wash my hands and grabbed a pair of rubber gloves. I slid them into my apron. And then I clean up, folding the cot and putting it in the storage under the examining table. I glance over my shoulder, at the electric clock. 6:50. I had ten minutes for breakfast. I walk into the corridor. I live in a hospital. Fifteen years ago, my mother left me here, intending to retrieve me later. All I knew was that she was a nurse, and was killed in The Rebellion. She had requested that if she did not return, for the hospital to raise me. I wasn't the only one under these circumstances. There were at least twenty others who had been left. The majority of them were girls, although there were a couple boys. They ranged from ages eight to eighteen All I had to do was work here, and in return I was given shelter, food, and of course, great medical care. We were the largest, and really, only, hospital in all of Panem. We were right in the center, where the capitol used to be. This center was called Mainstreet. Along with the hospital, there was also a large market, a clothing store, a park, and a barbershop. Trains linked each district here, and from each district it was barely an hour commute. For this reason, Mainstreet was a hub of activity. I was always reminded how lucky I was to live here; but I don't know…this place didn't feel like home. I walked through the corridors and took the elevator to the cafeteria. I got some cereal and a bagel. Food was far more plentiful than before the Rebellion. Once I my tray was full enough, I sat down with the other girls. They were just finishing their meals. The other girls were nice, most of them. As long as you didn't stand out and give them a reason to pick on you, they were perfectly hospitable. They were always laughing at inside jokes that I never understood, but always pretended to. I am nearly fifteen years old. The hospital educates the children until they're thirteen. We learn mostly History, all about the Rebellion, and The Hunger Games. The Hunger Games went on. Every two years the competition was held for children aged 13 to 16, so most children would only have to endure one Reaping. The rules had been changed ever so slightly. The games were no longer held in the Capitol, of course, for it no longer existed. District one, which had been destroyed nearly as badly as the Capitol, had been turned into a city crafted just for the games. They were an even bigger deal now that they were only held every two years. This would be my first Reaping. The last Reaping was the day before my thirteenth birthday, and now it would be the day before my fifteenth birthday. The Reaping was in one week.
I finished my breakfast and headed to the briefing room to get my schedule for the day. I did mostly check-ups. We weren't allowed to perform surgery until we were sixteen. I picked up my schedule. Today I would be working until four. It was Friday, and Fridays I got out early. I clipped the schedule to my clipboard, and went back to my room. I passed some of the other children on the way back and waved. I opened the door and hung the clipboard on the wall. It was 7:15. I sat down on the stool and waited. Seven hours later, my shift was over. I began cleaning up when there was a knock at the door. "Just a minute!" I shouted. I opened the door. It was Ginger, one of the other girls. She was fourteen, with curly brown hair and hazel eyes.
She looked anxious. "Oh, thank goodness. Okay, Carmen, I have a really big favor to ask. There's one more guy waiting, can you take him? Please, please, please! I've been dying to get my hair cut for weeks, and they close at five! I'll give you the money for him, I swear!" I sighed. "Sure, I guess. I finished up early anyway." She squeezed me. "Yay! You're the best!" She winked. "And besides, he's pretty cute." I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, sure. Send him in here." She clapped and skipped away. I tidied everything up, and brushed a hand through my hair. Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Just a sec!" I walked over, and opened the door. Okay, so Ginger hadn't been lying. The guy was probably around sixteen. He had bronzed skin, sea green eyes, and wavy brown hair. He stood with his hands in his pockets. "So, are you-" I pulled my gaze away from his eyes and ushered him in. "Yeah, come on in." He stepped in, and I closed the door behind him. "You can sit over there." I motioned to the examination table. He sat down. I got the clipboard and a pen, rolled the stool over to him, and sat down.
"Name?"
"Sebastian."
I wrote it down. "Okay, last name?" I asked. He hesitated, closed his eyes, and then sighed. He was gorgeous. In a small voice, he said, "Odair."
