Chapter 2

It's 1 o'clock. In an hour's time, every girl and boy in District 8 will know their future- for all but two, life will return to normal, until the reaping returns next year. But for one girl, and one boy, life will never be the same again. Maybe it'll be as though life was never there for them at all.

We're all looking our best. Even my cousins, who aren't even eligible to be selected yet, are dressed in formal attire. Corrie is dressed in an elegant red dress that meets her shins, although she looks like a sausage bursting out of its skin. I won't deny it- she is plump, not very attractive, but I have to admire her. As a single mother she looks after us well.

Not a word is said as we make our way down towards the square, however my fingers intertwine themselves into Ramona's, grappling for support. Usually, she'd shake them off, but by the way she squeezes back I can tell she's relieved for my presence.

At the square, we're split up. Corrie and my cousins are sent around the edges, whilst Ramona is guided towards other 14 year olds. I try to follow, our hands still clasped together, but I'm given a gentle shove into the respective 15 year old area, and I have to let go. I can see her eyes, pained and worried, and it just about breaks my heart. In less than 45 minutes, every single person in District 8 is crammed into the square. There are gargantuan TV screens set around, televising the action that will be taking far away on stage, which means the chosen tribute's reactions will be broadcast throughout the entire crowd. I'm aware of the District 8 Mayor making his speech, as he does every year. I completely zone out, until another girl accidently knocks my elbow, which causes me to look up.

"Whoops, sorry-"The girl begins. "…Aisla? Oh, thank God it's you!"

"Corinne!" I almost sob. I'm so relieved that she's here. I think that if I was in the end chosen, I would at least want somebody here to catch me when I faint. "I'm so glad you're here…"

I would love to say more, but the square has fell silent, which means Alizay Trixibell, our District's reaper, is about to make her appearance. I stop talking but I cling to Corinne's arm, and she smiles back weakly. I first met her when I moved into my Aunt's house, and we've been close friends ever since.

"Hello one and all, to the 43rd Annual Reaping!" Alizay pipes, her electric blue hair flouncing. "I'm pleased to see you again, District 8! I'll bet that we'll have another winner this year, don't you?"

Corinne and I look at each other, and shake our heads. Residents of the Capitol have no idea how tragic and sadistic the whole setup is. If only the tributes were selected from there instead, I would be pleased. How they would become the laughing stock of Panem, as they learned the true meaning of hunger of despair.

"Anyway, let's get started with our female tribute." Alizay sticks in one perfectly manicured hand and starts to rummage around. It's a painstaking process; and it takes her a long time, probably for the suspense. I hold my breath and start wishing again, hoping, praying, begging, imploring, that it's not me. My hands are clamped together, my eyes are tightly shut, and I've even taken to mumbling them out loud in a scary, hushed voice. At last, Alizay somehow manages to take out a slip, and s-l-o-w-l-y unwraps it. I think I'm going to die.

"District 8, I present to you our Female Tribute… Eye... Um... Eye... zeee... laaah…" Alizay falters, and a crew member has to rush onstage and read it, and then whispers the name in her ear. "Ah. I see. I apologise for the problem. Our Female Tribute- Aisla Jonson!"

The terrifying revelation hasn't at all registered when I laugh out loud. Me? No way. I'm not going. I'm not going to take part in the Capitol's stupid little games. I'm not representing District 8 as their "Female Tribute"… They must be joking…

I'm given a good-natured push towards the stage.

It's pathetic. I'm not going…Not going...

My legs hobble their way towards the stage. I can hear somebody screaming. I think its Ramona, but I can't hear her very well. Everything's gone all muffled and strange. All of a sudden, I'm knocked back by this hammer-blow force, and Ramona's pushing me away.

"NO!" She screams, crying and grabbing onto me so tight, I can't breathe. "YOU CAN'T… YOU CAN'T TAKE HER…"

Stop it…

"AISLA!" Ramona cries again, chilling the blood that's flowing through my veins. I shove her against the floor and stagger up the stairs, but she's up again and grabbing onto my 3 quarter length trousers. "Please…"

I turn around and scoop her into my arms, and give her a long, hard hug. Then she's dragged away, by Corinne, towards my Aunt and cousins. They're all crying too, but this time it's not my Aunt. She just stares straight ahead, looking lost. Eventually, when the commotion dies out, I'm addressed by Alizay onstage.

"Wow! What an exciting ordeal! Who was that, your friend?" She beams, offering me a seat.

"Sister." I correct her, but I take the seat and shake my head through all the questions that follow. I'm too stunned, sad and worried to speak. And I despise her too much to be making small talk out this. Eventually, she gives up on me, and moves onto the Male Tribute reaping. This part I actually tune in on, because whoever is chosen, I will be competing with. I pray for a well built and sturdy male.

"District 8, our Male Tribute- Ryder Linging!" My prayers are answered; a husky looking 16 year old emerges from the audience and I give a heavy sigh of relief. He looks a lot more confident than I felt making my way up to the stage, and there are no mishaps, no crazy relatives nearly knocking him over. Ryder doesn't even look at me when he sits down, and waits to be interviewed.

"Oh my, what brilliant tributes we have here! I'll bet this year's Hunger Games is in the bag!" Alizay squeals, again totally oblivious. "Aisla Jonson and Ryder Linging."

It's now when Ryder finally looks at me, and I don't like the way he does it. He sneers, and I feel so small, so inferior, that I have to look away. We're supposedly automatically allies, being in the same District, but I feel as though the mentors are going to have a hard time bonding us together. The mentors! Because we have a handful, District 8's mentors usually vary from year to year, and just I'm wondering who we'll get, they come onstage.

"And their mentors- Tanya Gaines and Mel Radmatcher!" Alizay is joined by a familiar young woman, and an older looking man who I don't believe I've seen before. He seems decent enough anyway. For the first time since the reaping started, District 8 actually applauds. This calms me, because I know this act is not of decency, it's because they are highly qualified. Mentors are a figure of respect, but the crowd are clapping more enthusiastically than normal. Tanya, pretty and graceful, even takes to blowing one or two kisses to the crowd. Mel just stands there awkwardly, following her and I detect some form of unrequited emotion. It's just the way he looks at her, followed by blushing. And it puzzles me.

I catch Tanya's eye, and she gives me what I think is a sympathetic, anxious smile. Since all of the mentors are victors from previous years, she knows how I feel at the moment. I feel glad, because at least I have someone I can relate to.

"Tanya and Mel will be help to guide our tributes to triumph!" Cries Alizay, and I'm annoyed because this isn't true. It's tribute, not tributes, as only one person can win.

Shortly afterwards, the Mayor reads the Treaty of Treason, but I don't hear anything. I could be a mile away. I struggle to come to the terms that I'm probably going to die within the next few weeks. And during that time, I'll be fighting off other people, competing, killing them, murdering them. If they don't get me first.

At last, the Mayor signals for Ryder and I to shake hands. This is a humble tradition and I'm sure it goes on in every District. The anthem starts to play, musical and upbeat, booming throughout the whole of the square. When I offer him my hand in a reproachful manner; he almost scowls as he shakes it, making the whole situation feel unfitting.

Huh. It's only been five minutes but it already feels like I'm going to have a tough time having Ryder as my new best friend.

We listen to the tune end with embellishment.

Things move quickly after that. I'm escorted towards the Justice Building and watch as Ryder leaves my view. Peacekeepers form a tight circle around me, as though they feel as though I'm inclined to run away. After about a half minute's walk, we arrive, and I'm whisked into an intricate room which consists of burgundy furniture and diamond studded paintings. If this was the standard fare at home, I wouldn't mind spending eternity there. The door shuts behind me, leaving me confused, because I'm on my own, until I remember that in the next hour I will be expecting visitors. After that, I will be gone.

About twenty minutes go by uneventful, but then my cousins file into the room. They've all been crying, and although I don't want to seem like a weakling for the cameras, tears are welling up in my eyes. We all embrace and then I say goodbye to them one by one, telling them to be good for Corrie, and then they disappear. James, Brenda, Lou, Martha. Whom I will never see again.

Next in is my Aunt, but I can tell she's distressed. She doesn't hold back with tears and moaning, as I hold her tightly in a hug. I remind her to look after my cousins well. And Ramona. Especially Ramona. And in the blink of an eye, Corrie's gone too. Just as my Aunt exits, Corinne enters. We spend ten minutes crying, laughing, hugging and talking. It feels like such a short time, certainly emotional, but she too has to take her leave. As a parting gift, she gives me a swift kiss on the forehead.

I wait for Ramona, my closest relative, to come. I wait and wait, but she doesn't arrive. I expect her to come bursting in at one point, hysterical as she was earlier, but she doesn't. I slowly come to terms with the fact that maybe Ramona doesn't want to visit me, and I feel a lump in my throat as I continue my long battle in fighting the temptation to start bawling. If I don't hear from her, I think I'll go insane. Five minutes waiting time left. I can't help it any more; I'm starting to weep even though no sounds are escaping my lips. I don't care if the cameras see me like this, if it means not having to conceal my emotions it suits me fine. I'm slowly going crazy, and my heart rate is getting faster. Soon, I will get called to get on the train; to the Capitol, and I'll never get any more chances to see my sister.

All of a sudden, the door creaks open. I brace myself, thinking it's a Peacekeeper beckoning me to the platform, but before I know what's happening, Ramona is in my arms. Relief floods through me as I cling onto her, to hope, to life.

"Aisla." She tells me, with a very serious expression, "You know you can win, you just need to try."

I shake my head and make small choked sound which is supposed to mean "I can't". My eyes go back to her breathtaking dress, embroidered with flowers, when I notice a square of material missing at the edge. I stare at it quizzically.

"I know. But I did it for you." Ramona answers my question before I ask it; when she holds out a beautifully crafted flower, out of the material that was missing. It's so perfectly made, and somehow fashioned into a brooch. "I want you to wear it as a token. During the games… Make it a piece of you, Aisla, and remember that I'll be cheering you on back home, promise?"

All of the negative feelings melt away as I pin the brooch onto my tank top, leaving only the overwhelming emotion of happiness, and thankfulness. I cannot put my gratitude into words so I give her one last hug, as for me, the gift is priceless. A peacekeeper enters the room and signals me to join Ryder on the platform, and Ramona walks out of the room, and it all feels so final.

My stomach has butterflies when I meet the cameras, everyone wants to know me. I smile graciously but the muscles in my cheeks are jumping, and almost every part of me is twitching. The mentors get on, then Ryder, then me. The Capitol awaits.

I watch as everyone on the platform shrinks until they look like ants, and I can see District 8 pulling away from me. I press my face against the glass, holding onto my last piece of home until I finally have to let go.