I wrap a towel around my body and make my way to my bedroom carrying the bundle of sweaty exercise clothes that I had been wearing only minutes ago. The door is already ajar, and I remember my mother's comments about there being a present awaiting me. Curious, I step inside and my focus is immediately drawn to the bed. Lying on my white sheets is a brilliant royal blue suit. Instinctively, I drop the bundle that I am carrying and walk over to it. The thing looks out of place in my room. Whilst one could say that I'm rather well-off, this suit far too majestic to be any creation of District 6. My hand reaches out to caress the fine material when I hear a familiar voice behind me.
"Your pa' brought it back from The Capitol."
I don't need to look to know who the voice belongs to. It's Amma. A middle aged woman, likely the same age as my mother but the years have not been as kind to her, crosses the room and places a tray of food on the nearest dresser. Dark graying hair tied back, wrinkles around her eyes and forehead, cracked lips, Amma is not necessarily a picture of beauty, but her face always brings a smile to mine.
"What's it for?" I ask her curiously.
Being the mayor of the district, my father is occasionally required to travel to The Capitol for meetings with various political figures. Very rarely will he return with gifts, and never any this extravagant. He must have done something very commendable if they felt the need to bestow something like this on him.
"Well, what do you think Bran?" she asks incredulously. "The Reaping."
At first I'm shocked, and then horrified. I have never been fond of The Capitol, I can't imagine anybody in the twelve districts of Panem are fond of The Capitol, but this takes me distaste of them to a whole new level. I open my mouth to object but before a single word can escape my lips Amma has raised a stern hand to shush me.
"There's nothing you can do, so don't waste your breath." The look on her face suggests that I shouldn't argue back. "Eat some breakfast."
Begrudgingly, I walk over to the tray she's placed on my dresser and haphazardly stuff several pieces of bacon and egg into my mouth. Turning to Amma, I openly smile with my mouthful of half chewed food. It's enough to even make Amma crack a brief grin. She tells me to eat properly or else she'll feed me as she did when I was a baby.
Amma has been with us for years. Just like the hot water, we are one of the few families with enough money to hire help around the house. We only have Amma so she acts as a cook, cleaner, and – in my younger years – a nanny. My mother, despite being loving and caring in her own way, would turn green at the sight of a dirty diaper. If it weren't for Amma I don't know how anything would have gotten done. My family pays her well for her services, but not enough to keep her children off tesserae.
"Why are you here?" I ask, after swallowing the huge mouthful of food. "You should be at home with your children." A little anger boils up inside me at the thought that my parents would ask her to work on Reaping Day when she has three sons, all of whom are between the ages of twelve and eighteen, to be taking care of.
"Na', I'll get a chance to see them before it starts." Though her words to run true, my parents wouldn't dare not let her see her sons before the start of the reaping, I still see glint of pain in her eyes. I decide not to press the matter. "Finish up and get dressed."
On that note, she exits the room leaving me alone with the suit. I glare at it. Perhaps I should spill my glass of orange juice on it. An unwise thought. When The Capitol ask you to do something, even if it is as arbitrary as wearing a suit, you do it. Besides, I'll only have to endure the thing for an hour or so before I can take it off.
Following Amma's instructions, I finish up with my breakfast and slip into my new outfit. The trousers feel soft as the brush against my legs. I'm not entirely sure what material they are made from but I know it's something I've never felt before. The white shirt is fresh and unworn. Next, I slip on the black shoes that have been laid out on the floor and adorn the jacket which matches the trousers perfectly. Finally, I run a comb through my hair untangling any knots and giving it some sense of direction.
I stand in front of the tall mirror and hardly recognize the boy looking back at me. He is not the same person that was sweating and panting this morning. This person is different. I dread what people are going to think of me. Whilst they will all be wearing their best clothes, I highly doubt that any of them will be dressed in something so extravagant. Sighing to myself, I feel my heart beginning to race again and remind myself of the very few pieces of paper that have 'Brandon Jonze' written on them.
With only half an hour to go I start towards my bedroom door but stop suddenly. I have forgotten something. Hurrying back to the dresser, I open the top draw and pluck out one of my prized possessions. A small hovercraft figurine modeled on the ones that we produce right here in District 6. My father had given it to me more than ten years ago. That was back when we had some semblance of a relationship. Before the job took over his life. I slip it into my pocket and finally exit my bedroom.
At the foot of the stairs my mother awaits in a knee-length dress that was also clearly provided by The Capitol. It is a shade or two lighter than my own outfit and she wears an animal fur around her shoulders. What grabs my attention the most is her eyes. They have been assaulted with long fake eyelashes that glitter when you blink. My mouth opens in shock. I am lost for words.
"Don't we look wonderful!" she squeals. "We could have just stepped off a train from The Capitol for all they know!"
By they I assume she means everybody else in the district. In recent years my mother has developed a taste for pleasing The Capitol. Constantly blabbering on about their generosity, and the amount of good they do for our district. It gets worse around Reaping Day.
"Your father is already at the Justice Building but there's a car waiting for us outside."
The car ride to the town square is short. In fact, it was rather pointless. Though it would have taken much longer walking with my mother's ridiculous heels. My aim is to escape the car and head straight to my designated area. I don't want to be seen with her, not when she is dressed in such an inappropriate way. As soon as the car comes to a halt, I do just that. Quickly, I briskly head to the sign in area which every eligible child will pass through at some point. I hear whispers around me, a few of the other children actually point at me, and even the Peacekeeper who takes my name looks a little puzzled.
As usual, I'm directed to the roped off area containing all of the seventeen year old boys. Desperately, I search for a friendly face and eventually settle on Balto. My best friend since early childhood. Even he cannot resist the urge to make a sarcastic comment and punch me in the shoulder.
"You haven't turned into one of them have you?" He nods towards the stage.
It's time for the show to begin.
