Usually I'm hesitant on waking up on this day. However, today is different. Besides, I could hardly get any sleep last night.
I see the sun rise over the crop field and stare. I will never see that again. I then close my eyes, I keep the picture in my head. It's a beautiful scene, but the picture lies. It's not beautiful at all.
The sun represents the day is beginning, and for some family, their child will be sent to the slaughter house. That child isn't me, but I'll be joining them.
In a few weeks that family will have to carry on working in that crop field, they won't see their child again though.
I look through the window of the house adjacent to me. I see someone walking around. I look closer and I see a father waking up their child. The father walks out and the child gets up properly. He looks around fifteen, he'll be panicked about the date I'm sure. Maybe his sleep brought him dreams of hope, but reality ruins life for the most nowadays.
He looks out of his window and I hide. He must've seen me but I don't move. The awkward position starts to hurt my legs and I can feel them burning up. I roll off the end of my bed and stand up properly. I make my bed as usual but there's really no point. I won't be back in the evening to sleep in it.
I walk out in the clothes I slept in and sit down on the slightly broken wooden chair in the main room. Morwen, my guardian, is outside, probably getting in the dress I will wear today.
The Reaping is the time of year I wear a dress. I always wore my mothers'. This year is no different but she isn't here to help me get ready.
Morwen comes in with it. The cream frock is draped over her arms. It has embroidered detailing at the hem and puffed sleeves. I don't hate it, but I'm not a fan either. She hangs it up over her bedroom door frame and gets some bread out of the tin.
She doesn't bother with a plate, she never has. I chew it slowly. I don't feel like eating. The taste is bland like usual, but it does fill my belly and I have to be thankful for that.
She goes back outside to fill up a metal tub. I can hear the water gushing through the tap. She drags it back in and gets out the soap and brush. She then leaves me on my own.
I strip from my bed clothes and lay them on the table. I grab the soap and brush and step into the water. It's mildly cold but I'm used to it. I sit down and cup the water in my hands and let it splash onto me. I use the soap and brush to scrub harshly on my skin, getting rid of the crud between my finger nails and all of the dirt in my hair.
I use a jug to wash the soap out of my hair, now smelling half decent. I sit for a while. Then I start to get chilly so I hop out and use an old towel to rub myself dry.
I dry my hair with force, I don't want to get my dress wet, and wrap it up in the towel. I take the dress off the hanger and go into my room. I get some old under wear and put it on. I put the dress on but I need help with the zip.
I walk out into the main room and see Morwen coming back in. I assume she took the water out since the tub isn't there anymore.
"Can I have help please" I asked, and I turn around. She walks up to me in silence and zips me up. She turns me around and half smiles.
"You look better, Nev" she says. She shortens my name, it's really Nevelyn. I don't mind the nickname. "Shall I help you with your hair?"
I nod and we go into her room to sit at her dressing table. She gets her hair brush, something passed on from her mother, it's a luxury that is rarely seen in District 11. She then brushes through the knots in my hair, getting some help from the soap so it's easier to go through.
While it's drying she gets some socks and shoes for me to wear. I put them on myself, but Morwen is there, watching me.
She knows what I am going to do. She did try to stop me at the beginning but I refused. No one could stop me. Instead she help me put on some weight. I didn't put on much but it was more than I usually gain in a year. She wanted me to be strong in the arena.
I told her that if the odds were in my favour, I'd volunteer. I told her not to come and see me after I was picked, and I told her not to cry. That was one thing I told her not to do. I don't want anyone crying over me. I don't deserve the tears.
My hair dried after a while and Morwen got to crafting it. She brushes through it again, checking for any knots that didn't get untangled the first time and the grabs a white ribbon. She grips my hair up as to be put into a ponytail but instead she ties it neatly with the bow.
It looks pretty. I don't usually look after my appearance. I sometimes go days without washing my hair; it's just a fuss I think. I was going to cut it all off at one point but my mother disagreed. She loved my hair. I grew it out since she last saw it. It used to be passed my shoulders but now it's past my chest, but it doesn't reach my waist. It's a dark brown, very plain but mother loved playing with it. It relaxed her. I loved it when she played with my hair. She nimble fingers felt lovely against my head.
I don't let Morwen play with it. Though, she does compliment it sometimes. Her fingers are calloused, they've seen years of work and they don't feel the same way my mothers' did. My hair curls slightly at the tip, but it's flat at the top. If it didn't curl it would look silly, it would just hang off my head, lifeless. The curls give it some life, although I always have it up in a ponytail.
I thank Morwen for helping me and I hear the horn to signal the time to come to the square. I give a shuddery sigh in response and Morwen puts her hand on my shoulder. I look at her and she smiles at me, more sorrow than happiness.
"You're brave Nevelyn, remember that" she mumbles. I don't respond, I just look at her. I will miss Morwen, she looked after me and I could never thank her enough for that. But she won't have another mouth to feed tonight, just herself and that should be easier for her. But I'll see my parents soon, and I can't hold myself back.
We walk out of the little shack and Morwen walks with the other nervous mothers.
I walk on my own. I see the other girls, holding each other's hands. They're scared, every single one. I'm scared too, but I won't show anyone that.
I keep walking down the dusty track and look up for a second. I then spot him. He's walking on his own too.
Barrone. My old best friend. I didn't talk to him after my parents died. We did everything together. We knew each other since we were children, and it's a shame that I ended up not talking to him. I loved him like a brother and I'll never forget that friendship. The only one I truly treasured.
I remember how we met; it was such a long time ago. I was five years old and I had nothing to do. My parents were out working; this was a time before they got their radical ideas. I was left on my own, Morwen was unofficially looking after me, she was ill so she was home.
I sat in my room playing with my only toy, a teddy. To this day I don't regret giving it to Barrone.
It was the day before the Reaping and everyone was slightly on edge. My parents were fine since they only had me and I was too young to enter my name.
I decided to go for a walk, it was a nice day, I had no intent to waste it. My parents had no worry about me being taken by a stranger; no one really wanted the responsibility of a child. I walked to the small park, all it really was was a patch of rich grass which was taken care of by people who lived in the richer part of District 11, and it had a bench.
When I got to the park I saw a small boy, about my age sitting on the bench. He was hugging his knees and as I got closer I could hear snuffling. I was confident as a child, and I wanted to sit on the bench, he was taking up all of the room.
I sat next to him and he looked up. He had been crying and I was interested why he was so sad.
"What's wrong?" I asked him. He put his legs down and wiped his small hands on his nose, getting rid of the substance that had appeared.
"My…my brother" he started. He started crying again. I felt obliged to make him feel better, he look awful when he was sad.
"It's ok, you can tell me" I reassure.
"My brother, tomorrow, he had his name put in" he sniffled. He looked up at me and I looked into his eyes for the first time. He looked so innocent.
"It'll be ok, he won't get picked" I said. I didn't know much about the Reaping back at that age, but I did learn that the people picked rarely came back.
He looked at me, a little more positive. "You think?"
I nod. I then smile at him which he mimics.
"You're it!" he screams and hits my arm. He then runs off. I run after him.
The next day I stood next to him whilst his brother was in the pen. I held his hand as the escort made her way onto the stage. I don't think he took any notice but I held anyway.
She called out the female tribute; I remember her being fifteen years old. Then she called out for the boy.
I heard the name but I didn't recognize it. I looked at Barrone and I saw a tear. It was his brother. He squeezed my hand and cried more. In comfort I gave him a hug, but it didn't stop his brother from going up onto the stage.
Barrone's brother didn't survive those Games. The Careers killed him I was told. When he died, Barrone was heartbroken, so I gave my teddy bear. We stayed friends for thirteen years after that.
I stopped talking to him the day my parents died. I didn't really want to talk to anyone but Morwen took me in so I didn't have a choice.
I really do regret leaving Barrone, we only had each other and now we are both alone. He walks in front of me but he looks around once. He spots me, but it isn't awkward. He doesn't smile at me, he doesn't wave he just walks and stares. I stare back and know the feeling's mutual.
I don't blame him for not talking. It was I who left him anyway.
We all get into line to have our blood taken. The mothers gather on the outside of the square, some of them holding each other. I then spot Morwen. She's holding onto no one.
I have my finger pricked and I walk into the pen with the other girls. No one looks at me, and I just look at the stage.
Finally, after what seemed to me like half an hour, our District escort, Ambrosia Biffle wobbles into sight. Her heels, taller and spikier than the weapons used in the arena, hardly support her weight, and she struggles.
"Welcome everybody to the 74th Hunger Games" she beams. She always seems happy, she's only been escort for three years, but from a distance she looks older. The Capitol changes everyone who lives there. People from the District's look normal; normal coloured hair, normal coloured skin and normal clothes. The Capitol people look different. A rainbow of hair and skin colours. The clothes are awful. I would hate to have to wear that stuff.
I realize the Capitol film has ended when I snap back into reality, and I can sense that everyone's on edge.
"Now's the time to choose the tribute. Of course, ladies first" she teeters over to the huge glass bowl which contains one slip with my name on it. She hesitates picking out a slip but once she does she smiles and goes back to the microphone.
She opens the slip and reads out, "Nevelyn Deaton"
The girls around me looked at me. I only smiled a little at the corner of my mouth. Well, I don't have to make the day awkward by volunteering. Maybe volunteering would've made more of a scene. Only people from Career Districts volunteer. They do it because they're arrogant and they want to make their parents happy. It's in their blood to kill, to be of savage mind. I think it's barbaric. I walk out of the crowd and everyone's eyes are on me. I didn't expect to be so embarrassed; I hate people staring at me. I lessen my smirk into a think line, I try not to look to agitated, I should be happy.
I walk up to the stage and greeted by Ambrosia, who smiles at me. I don't want her to smile at me. She's part of what I hate.
She then goes on to the boys. "Thresh Oka" I recognize him. He was in the same year as me in school.
He shows no emotion as he makes his way onto stage. He seems confident. He's stealing my personality. I want to be the confident one, the one who knows all the answers, but it seems he know them too. He's big too; I might just be out of luck.
We're told to shake hands, his hand dominates mine. I try not to look so scared when faced with him. He's now my enemy, no matter what District, no matter what family, no matter what presence he may bring. He will die for me to die.