Chapter 4: Reaping Day

There's no point in me telling you what Luke and I did. Between eating, sleeping together, and bathing, we did nothing but kiss and work out ways to make our plan believable. I had called my parents three days in and said I wanted to stay for another week. My parents made no complaints, because they thought I was spying and giving Luke fake tips for survival. In reality, we worked on the things we both needed work on, like Camouflage and archery. Haymitch had kept plenty of things around, and then he had gone back to drinking. There wasn't a minute in the two weeks I was there that he was sober.

Luke and I kissed goodbye, swearing we would get into the Games, and then I went on my way, back home again. In one week, it would be reaping day. You can bet that as soon as I got home, my parents were there asking me a million questions about Luke's training. "He's pathetic. He won't last a day in that Arena with the others, especially me." I reply, laughing along with them evilly. I have contained a balance between being lovey dovey and being a carnivorous criminal in whatever Arena the Gamemakers decided to put us in. I act sinister and scheming for my parents, but when we got to the Games, I would be in love with Luke and yet still killing people to keep us alive. We rode home, and I changed into training clothes. Both my parents were going to train me for the next week. I'd be training harder and longer than any other tribute would, even in this district. To my surprise, my dad had made a gym in one of our master rooms in the house, so even when I wasn't at the gym, I could train on my own time. I trained vigorously, not leaving a single piece of flaw in anything. I was well muscled, but still thin, and I could run faster and be stronger than anybody I was put against. I would be the biggest threat in there.

It seemed like I had gone to bed one night and the next morning it was the day of the Reaping. I got up and ate a bowl of cereal, only to have it come back up again. I didn't think my nerves would kick in this much, but I guess when I think about it, I'm still a little scared I won't get in with Luke, and then I'll be forced to watch him die live on TV.

I shower quickly, then pull on some awesome black leggings and an army green mini skirt over it. I pull on a blue tank top as well and cascade my hair up into a braided bun. My mom can't yell at me for this. I wear my black sneakers, knowing I have to be able to run, and in heels, I wouldn't be able to go as fast as I can. I realize I'm thinking differently from most of the girls in this district. They are obsessed about looking perfect. I just want to look strong and ready to kill. I pull on my black fingerless gloves and paint my nails red, putting on some black eye shadow and red lip stick, and then I am ready to go. I walk down the steps, imagining the cheering crowd when I hit the Capitol. They'll adore me. The male tribute from here won't stand a chance against me, even in he is 18, and the maximum age you can be to enter the Games. I entered for tessarae, even though we don't need it, so my name is entered 14 times in all, 4 for my age and 10 for the tessarae. Not many people sign up for tessarae, so I have a wonderful chance of getting Reaped. Maybe I won't even need to volunteer. I just would need to beat the swarm of girls that would follow me to volunteer up to the stage. My parents and I walk to our awesome red and black convertible. We get into the square in style, and people stop and stare. Usually we walk, but this Reaping is special, so we get all kinds of awesome. I climb out and saunter down to the other girls, pushing girls away as I get to the front. I punch anyone who gets in my way, and they back off, letting me take the best spot. The crowd erupts into excited screams and shrieks as Artemis, our district escort, takes the stage.

"Welcome to the 88th Hunger Games Reaping Day! I am Artemis Fitch, and it gives me great pleasure to announce the tributes that will be competing in the Hunger Games. Let us start with the boys..."

She draws out the paper with the name, waving it around tauntingly like she always does. "Marcus Shay!" She exclaims.

Marcus takes off running, and he hops right onto the stage, and stands next to Artemis.

"Great, we have our first tribute! And now for the ladies...Ella Jude!" Artemis squeals.

I run for the stage, screaming "I VOLUNTEER, I VOLUNTEER!"

I hop onto the stage and stand next to Artemis.

"And what is your name?" She asks.

"My name is Elizabeth Hirsch!" I say proudly, smirking out at the people.

Marcus and I shake hands with Artemis, and then with each other, then are escorted into the Justice Building, where we will say our final farewells. I sit on the plush chair, taking deep, ragged breaths. I always knew I would end up here someday. And it still surprises me now.

My parents walk in, and I jump up to hug them.

"You were wonderful, honey! We knew you could volunteer!" My mom is shrieking.

"Are you guys going to be my mentors?" I ask.

"Yes, sweetie. We are going to standing there right with you to the very moment when you stand on that plate to go into the Arena. And we are going to line up so many sponsors for you that you won't have to do anything but kill.

Also, I don't trust that Marcus fellow. We have to be his mentor too, but we are not helping him the way we are for you. You're going to kill him off as quickly as possible, but make some allies first." My dad is already strategizing.

A peacekeeper comes in and shows them out.

"I'll miss you." I laugh.

I sit there for a while longer and then Artemis comes in.

"Time to go, superstar." She trills.

I stand up and straighten my skirt out. Then I meet up with Marcus and shoot him a sneer. As soon as we walk out of the building, a million cameras light up the air, and I plaster a bored expression on my face, hoping it's convincing. I look over at Marcus again and he's smiling his stupid head off. I do something that shows I am ready to compete, and not just being stupid and fun. I lift my hand up and smack him in the back of the head. He flinches, exactly like I wanted. It makes him look weak. It makes me look concentrated on winning. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and leans in like he's going to kiss me on the cheek. Two can play that game. He's trying to make me look weak. So, I grab his wrist and flip him to the ground. Hard. I hear his arm snap under his body weight. Yes, I broke his arm. He's weaker than before. I step over his body and walk down into the frenzy of cameras taking pictures. I turn one way and smirk, then the other, doing all sorts of things. I feel like a model on a runway. My mom taught me everything I needed to know- never smile, smirk. Never look happy, look bored or aggressive. And bored and aggressive is what I am.

OK, I hope you enjoyed that. For the next chapter, I need all the tributes submitted, so please, go on my profile to find the list of things to come up with. It's not too long. And then send me your answers in a message. I'll put in the ones that I need. I need a variety of ages for the tributes (12-18) and I need them from all different districts. Don't do district 2 or 13(because in this, 13 doesn't participate). Thanks, and MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR!