Clove

I wake up to the sun streaming through the window. I jump out of bed in a panic- I have training! Then I remember, today is the reaping. Today is one of the few days in the entire year that I can sleep in. No use trying to sleep now, though. I know I won't be able to drift back to dreamland. Not today.

I sit in bed for hours until I hear Mother call me for breakfast. I walk downstairs and eat breakfast like normal. My parents are excitedly chatting about who will volunteer because in District 2 it's always volunteers. I'm only fifteen so it won't be me this year. I want to volunteer, yes, but not for another three years, when I'm eighteen. I could win this year but I'd rather not risk it. My little sisters only six, so it definitely won't be her because she isn't even eligible to be reaped for another six years. Thank goodness. The Games are a chance for honour, but still the idea of Cora in the Games scares me to death.

I go to get ready in my room. After what seems like hours, and literally is, I'm finally satisfied. Today is almost a festivity in District 2, so everyone dresses up. It's one of the reasons I like today, because it's one of the only chances I get to wear a dress rather than my training clothes. My dress is blood red and it flows to my ankles. I wear heels today, so that I can feel a little taller, and they match my dress. I look at the clock. Its almost nine and the reaping is at ten exactly. Right on cue, the doorbell rings. I run to open it.

Standing on the doorstep smiling, is Cato. He leans down to kiss me tenderly. "Happy Hunger Games." He says in an imitation of the Capitol's accent.

"And may the odds be ever in your favour," I reply in the same tone. I take his hand and call behind me "I'll see you at the reaping!". My parents and Cora call out goodbyes. Me and Cato walk towards the square, our hands grasped tightly together. "Whoever wins this year has a tough act to follow." Cato comments. The girl from our district who won last year incredibly bloodthirsty, even by District 2 standards.

Here, nobody has any need to be even nervous today. If you're reaped, somebody will volunteer. The person who was actually reaped hasn't been a tribute in years. The last time it happened I was five, and the boy ran straight up to the stage before anyone could volunteer.

When we get to the square we sign in and then we have to split up -even though we're only a few months apart because of where our birthdays are, he turns sixteen a few months before the reaping and I turn sixteen about a month after. This means that we can never stand together at the reaping.

I take a glance at Cato and he smiles at me. I smile back. Our moment is disturbed by Ophelia, District 2's escort. This year she is sporting the Capitol's best fashion- a ridiculous bright green dress, clashing with a magenta red wig. All of this is complemented by lime-green eyeshadow and yellow, yes yellow, lipstick. Very attractive. I hear the Christmas tree look is high fashion in the Capitol.

Anyway, she taps the microphone to get the crowds attention. Her irritating voice fill the square. "I've been waiting for this moment all year! Today I have the honour of choosing the brave young man and woman who will represent District 2 this year in the 74th annual Hunger Games! Now, without further ado, I will reveal the lucky couple!" she struts over to the glass ball and over-dramatically stirs her hand through the slips of paper, until she finally picks a name and runs happily back to the podium.

"Clove Kentwell!"