I grew up being told that I would never attend a reaping or see the Hunger Games, but here we are, on reaping day.
"Alana, I told you, if you're name is picked, I'm not going to let you go in alone. I'm going in with you, if you have to go," I say.
"You can't; just because I have to die doesn't mean you do," she says through a shaky voice.
"We don't even know if you'll get picked. We can't panic and argue over something we're not sure about. Let's just see what happens," I say to help her calm down. I refuse to let her go alone, if against all odds, she is chosen, then I'm going to volunteer to protect her.
"Is that Katniss Everdeen?" She whispers.
I look over my shoulder, and am shocked that it is.
"Yeah, but why would she go to the reaping? She doesn't have to," I respond in a hushed voice.
"She's looking at us. And I don't know why she would be going. She's the one who lead the rebellion, I thought she'd stay away in protest," she says.
I wait until she's gone before I respond.
"Maybe she's being forced to attend," I suggest. "To make us think she's on their side."
"She would never take their side, everyone knows that."
"I know. Let's just go, get this over with," I say, then kiss her.
She nods, then we walk to the square, holding hands.
When we get there, there are four lines; two lines for the girls, two lines for the boys. We get in the lines that are next to each other.
The line moves slowly, but eventually, I'm the next person in line, and Alana is three from the front. A lady grabs my right hand and pokes my index finger with a needle, then puts it on a paper. She scans the blood with a machine which reads out my name and age.
"Go stand with the seventeen year olds," she says sternly and impatiently.
I stand here for a while before the escort, Effie, steps onto the stage.
"Welcome to the reaping for the seventy-seventh Hunger Games. Today we will select our tributes," she says, her voice sounds strained as if it's full of anger or agony.
"As before we will select our female tribute first," she says. Her hand drops into the bowl and she pulls out the card from the top of the left of the bowl.
"Before I announce the tribute, I would like to say something," she says. "No matter which name I read, I know that this person is a huge part of history. The first tribute to be drawn in over twenty years. When you're in the arena, be strong, be brave, and above all, be smart."
She swallows, then opens the envelope and says, "The female tribute for district twelve is Alana Clark."
My ears ring in shock and I swallow hard. My eyes burn and I want to scream, but I can't; I need to protect her, and I can't do that if I cause a scene.
I inhale and exhale, slowly regaining breath control.
Author's Note...
Sorry for the short chapter and weird ending. Lol. Don't worry though, this isn't the end of the reaping, just the end of the reaping from Jake's POV. Chapter 4 continues it from the POV of Alana. Once again I love feedback, even if it's negative, as long as it's constructive and not rude. Thanks for reading!
