"Happy Hunger Games!" Effie Trinket shrills into the microphone for the very last time.
She is on a new stage, not the shabby stone thing she is used to in District 12. She stands high above the capitol on a balcony of the President's Mansion. My mansion. Well, not really mine, but my grandfather-Coriolanus Snow, the former President of Panem. Now, his beautiful home is occupied by President Paylor and her staff.
I hate Paylor, but it is not only because of what she has done to this glorious house, but because of what she is doing. This is the Reaping for the final Hunger Games. After the rebels and District 13 took control of the country from the Capitol and my family, they announced the plans for a final Games using only the children of the most powerful Capitol officials. Of all of the former government employees, 50 were selected to send their children for Reaping. Since all of Snow's children were adults, his grandchildren were sent. All two of us. Now, I stand with just over 100 other children between 12 and 17, some of which I have known all my life.
"And may the odds be ever in your favor," Effie continues. She is the final escort alive, so was selected by the new Game Makers to serve as everybody's escort. The Makers are former Victors who agreed to do the job: Enobaria; Johanna; and the newest Head, Haymitch. "Ladies first!"
The deal is that 12 girls will be picked, then 12 boys. Good news is that siblings of the same gender cannot both be picked. Too bad my only relative here is my female cousin. Since I will be drawn from the men, we may both be sent.
A name is called that I do not know and a girl is marched to the balcony. Then another. Ten more. I recognize the old Chief Peacekeeper's daughter and the youngest of the former Secretary of Communications' children. Other than that, they seem to be nameless to me. Now the men.
First name. Second name. A few more. The Vice President's only children. A couple more. A Game Maker's boy. Suddenly our escort is drawing the final name. "James Snow."
Roaring applause from the crowd of rebels that now run Panem. They are all so excited that the man that they all blame for all of our problems has a descendant in the Games. Before I know it, two guards are rushing me forward to the balcony, up some stairs and next to 23 other tributes. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our Capitol tributes!" And just like that, I am rushed into a large corridor in the mansion. Once upon a time, this was a room we would decorate for Christmas, but now Paylor and her guards approach us.
"Girls and boys I want to personally apologize for this whole ordeal," says the President. "They Victors Council did change their verdict after establishing these Hunger Games, but the people would not allow for a change." She pauses. "I am still working hard to cancel these activities, but it seems impossible to change the minds of the Capitol citizens."
I am condemned by my own people.
