I stand out from the crowd. I'm the only one who hasn't made an effort, the only one who isn't wearing a dress, hair pinned up, trembling in the crowds. I'm standing there, in my tight black leather, my knives in my belt and boots. Via Kyara. The Scarred Assassin.
I scan the crowds for my younger siblings. My two brothers stand in the 12 and 13 year old sections. My sister is clinging to my mother. She's safe for now, being only six. I don't fear for myself, but I do fear for them. They wouldn't stand a chance.
To me, the Hunger Games are a faint annoyance. They don't dominate my life, because, being an assassin, I could win them with ease. But I care about my family, and I may not be able to support them much longer. Then I realize what I have to do.
"Attention, attention!" calls Nolwenn Bourbon, our escort. Nolwenn has been the district 8 escort since... well, pretty much forever. But the purple curls and white powdered skin never change. She then proceeds to chatter on about the glory of these ridiculous games. I sigh, and block it out. A whole afternoon wasted.
Finally, the woman finishes. She picks a slip of paper out of the reaping ball. "Tianna Carter," she calls. Everyone grumbles as a wispy 12 year old bursts into tears and is hauled towards the stage. I waste no time. "I volunteer," I call out coolly, sounding almost bored. Gasps fill the crowds as I stride up to the stage, fingering my knives. They are immediately confiscated, and little Tianna runs off the stage like a frightened rabbit.
Later, I'm waiting in a small room in the mayor's house. My family rushes in, hugs me. My sister crawls onto my lap and smiles.
"Aren't you worried about me?" I tease.
"Why would I worry? I know you'll win." She replies, puzzled. Before I can answer, they're hauled out of the door.
Surprisingly, I get another visitor. Tianna walks in, tears in her eyes.
"You can win this, Via. You have to. Or I'll never forgive myself."
"I will win," I promise her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.