When I woke up, I came face to face with my mother's tired and slightly wrinkled face. She always had this tense, worried look on her face even when she's sleeping. It's been there as long as I can remember, but I know that she wasn't always this way. No, the cause of her dilemma was two things.
A year after I was born my father died. He died when he got caught in a peace keeper shooting. It came as huge shock to my mother. She still mourns over it. I don't mourn over because I never knew him, but if I did I'm sure that I would be just as bad as my mother.
The other reason is the Hunger Games. For many years all the Districts and the Capitol were in harmony, but then a group keen on bringing back the Hunger Games started a new war. They fought in secrecy for many years, but in the end they won. It was a few months after my second birthday. The only reason my parents had me was because it was finally safe. They waited ten years to have me, and now the safety was gone.
It has been fourteen years since that has happened and I have still yet to be chosen for the Hunger Games nor do I want to, but just in case I am, I'm ready. You see, when my mother heard this she was devastated. The thought of possibly losing the only living relative she had left was too much to take. So, she made a plan, she wanted me to hunt, she wanted me to be the fastest person my age; she wanted me to be strong physically and mentally. So, she trained me to be like that. Every morning when I was six she took me to the fence. They had yet to replace it form the old one so anyone could shimmy under it. When we went out there she taught me how to shoot a bow and arrow, how to set snares, hand to hand combat, what you can't and can eat, how to gut and clean a kill. She had learned how to do all this stuff during the rebellion. She would sell my kills in the black market but would never reveal how she got them.
Now, I was completely ready for the Games just in case I was chosen, I am pretty much a fully-fledged killing machine. But, to achieve this title I had to sacrifice something like school. My mother home schooled me so I could focus on my training. Another thing I lost was a social life. My mother thought that it would help me be a merciless killer because I would have no emotional connection them. I also didn't get to go out a lot because when my mother was at her job as a seamstress. I was either training or I was at home doing nothing
I gently nudged my mother then whispered "Mom, get up, we have to get ready for the reaping."
Her eye flashed open and she said "Of course honey. Crystal, why don't you go have a bath with the warm water that's on the stove while I get your clothes ready, okay?"
I nodded and turned around to face the door. Our house was fairly small. One bedroom, no bathroom, but we had a wooden tub that we kept in the storage attic, but had already been placed in the kitchen.
I walked into the kitchen and saw the water that had been warming up all night. I grabbed the mitts, put them on and grabbed the water. I poured the water into the tub and watched the steam rise from it. I took of the mitts and slowly started striping my clothing and tossing it on the floor. After that I entered the tub of boiling water cautiously. I grabbed the soap and started rubbing it all over my body scratching away the layer of grime that has been sitting on my skin for weeks. During the middle of this process my mother came out and started to help get the grime off my skin, leaving it red, after we finished with that my mother started to shampoo my hair and rinsed it out, then she put in conditioner in my hair and while she was letting it set in she gently combed the knots in it out. Once she was done combing she poured water slowly on my head, as if to only get out the product and not tangle my hair.
When I got out my skin had a light pink tinge to it form the heat of the water and all the scrubbing. I got the towel and rubbed my body slowly, letting it dry with the air. I walked into the room to see one of my mother old dresses from her school days when her parents were merchants. They were some of her most prized possessions.
I turned around to face her and said "Mom, you can't give me one of your dresses; you love those, they probably won't even fit me. I can't take this." While holding the dress out
"Nonsense, I'm giving you the dress because I think you deserve it. And that thing about you not fitting in it is just ridiculous. You are the same size as me when I got that dress" She replied pushing the dress back out to me.
I reluctantly put it on. Once I finished my mother grabbed a brush and passed it through my hair. One my hair was sleek and dry, she grabbed a gold clip and pinned my side bangs up leaving the rest of my hair down.
Then we were finished. I stood up and walked into the kitchen were we kept the full body length mirror that was slightly cracked.
I looked at the full 5'5'' of me. My light brown hair was straight as a pin, framing my heart-shaped face and high cheek bones. The light green dress I wore complemented my big green eyes. The dress itself was beautiful.
The dress was strapless, the top of the dress that covered my chest was light green silk and it had beautiful detailing made with gold thread and small gold sequins, immediately beneath that was a gold ribbon that was tied in a bow at the back, beneath was more green silk but without detailing that had been on the bust, it dropped gracefully at my knees. The light green also complemented my tan that I got from endless hours of training. And to finish off the look I had gold flats on.
I lifted my head to see my mother standing behind me looking at me in the mirror. I turned around to hug her thinking this might be the last time I ever saw her, my only emotional connection in the world. I let go of her and looked around taking it all in.
"I'm ready to go mom." I said confidently
"Okay honey, let's go" She said with a small smile as she leaned down to give me a kiss on the head.
We walked out the door and to the square in silence. When we got there I hugged my mother one last time before I went stand in the age group of sixteen year olds that had no idea I existed.
After about thirty minutes of waiting our mayor went over the history of the Hunger Games and the rebellion. We hear the same thing every year so there is really no point in listening. On the stage the two mentors are on stage. The famous revolutionist Katniss and Peeta Mellark, looking like it physically pains them to be there.
Once the mayor finished, our escort, Alicia Wellborn, comes up on stage, her bight orange hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the natural colored landscape of hair.
"Hello everyone!" She said in the voice that only multiple Capitol surgeries could have done "Wow! It is such a nice day to be celebrating the start of the Hunger Games! How about we mix things up a bit this year! Let's start off with the boys instead of the girls this time! Oh! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"
She reached her manicured hand into the bowl and pulled out a slip of paper. She opened it and read "Kyle Jelks!" Heads spun to see if there is any sudden movement in the crowd. And in the very same age division as I am a tall boy with broad shoulders, black hair and gray eyes walks through the crown looking like a traditional District 12 resident, but if you look closer you could see he was not just your average Seam boy. He was very handsome; he had a firm jaw and high cheekbones that give him a regal look.
He reached the stage by the time I was done observing him. Alicia turned to him with a bright smile and says "Congratulations! You are now the male tribute for District 12 in the Hunger Games! Now do we have any volunteers?" she looked around the crowd looking for hands, but all you could hear were the wails from all the girls who were horrified at the thought of losing the hottest boy in all of District 12. "No. Well then, moving on. It's time for the ladies!"
Once again she reached her hand into the bowl and pulled out a slip. She opened in and read with an obnoxiously large grin on her face "Crystal Azillia!" All the air in my body left me at once. I stood there in shock thinking just how the girl who has trained for years managed to get reaped for such a gruesome game. Yes, I said game, because every single person knows that this extraordinary event is just a game of chess and we are only pawns in that game. I gather up my wits release my face of any emotion and being walking to the stage.
People seem to look around wondering who this Crystal Azillia is. Most people in District 12 knew each by face, so when the sea of people saw me walking up onto the stage, puzzled and curious expressions ran through the crowd.
Alicia turned to me her dull purple eyes shining and said "Congratulations! You are now the female tribute for District 12 in the Hunger Games! Are there any volunteers?" She scanned the crowd once more looking for any volunteer hopefuls, only to find a sea of perplexed people too intrigued with this enigma to even realize that district escort even asked for volunteers. "Anyone? Well, there you have it folks, let give a big round of applause to the District 12 tributes for the annual 85th Hunger games!"
The mayor began reading the Treaty of Treason, just like every year. Once he finished, he motioned for me and Kyle to shake hands. Kyle's grip was firm but not to the extent of him crushing my hand, his face is molded into a charming grin directed towards me, to which I respond with one cocked eyebrow and a devious smirk, giving off an air of fake confidence, when in all reality I was frightened to the bone.
Because in about a week I was going to be fighting for my life in an arena filled with crazy kids that I didn't know. Yippee.
The peacekeepers took us into the building. It was the fanciest building I had ever been in. They had elevators. I had never been in an elevator before, wow; today is just filled with new things, isn't it.
Once I got in to my designated room I sat down on the plush sofa. It was made with velvet, so were the pillows. I the only other time I had felt velvet was the time my mom had to take me to her shop when I was sick.
Suddenly the door opened. I saw my mother running over to me. I stood up and waited for impact. She crashed into me so hard I almost fell over.
I gathered my wits trying not to cry and said "Mom, you and I both know that I'm probably not-"
"No!" She cut me off while sobbing "You can do this Crystal! I know you can, you didn't have years of training for nothing. Just remember, no one is going to go easy on you so you can't go easy on them. Give them everything you got. But most importantly, come home." Her voice cracked "You need to come home. Because I don't know what I would do without you, I lost your father and I am not going to lose you. Do you hear me Crystal?" I nodded "Good." She said with tears running down her face. I held in my tears because showing weakness was not an option now that I was in the Hunger games. "I love you Crystal. I love you so, so much."
"I love you to mom"
So for the rest of the allotted time we sat there with my mother sobbing into my shoulder and me sitting there fighting the tears that would occasionally slip out.
At one point the peacekeepers came and took my mother away from me. Tearing her away brutally like she was some sort of rag doll.
"Mom, I love you!"
"I love you too. You better come back, you hear!"
But we both knew that even with my endless hours of training, the chances of me coming back were slim. Not to mention the fact that I was from District 12! You see, since Katniss and Peeta were both from District 12, the game makers always find a way to eliminate tributes from 12 if they manage to stay alive long enough.
And I couldn't help but let the phrase 'may the odds be ever in your favor!' echo through my mind as we rode the car to the train station and walked through the swarm of reporters onto the train, which would take me on a journey I never could have imagined in my wildest dreams.