The blue dress goes to just above my knees, and has white lace around the high neckline, and hem, casuing the skin on my neck, under my chin and thighs to itch. But I make my way froward, through the crowds of kids, and get in line. I hold out my finger, allowing it to be pricked, and carry on through.
The town square has been completed since I ran through it in the early hours of this morning, with the bowls of names set up, a microphone,
a few chairs for officials and banners everywhere. I walk towards the girls of my age, and stop, standing next to a girl called Foxglove Tress, a friend from school. She smiles weakly at me, and I return it, in the same weak fashion.
Effie Trinket appears on stage, wearing a pastel yellow skirt and blazer, and pale violet shirt. Her wig has changed to a curly blonde one, and her lips are painted a soft violet, like her shirt. Her heels clack loudly on the stage in front of the Justice Building, as she takes to the microphone,
saying brightly. "Welcome, to the 76th Annual Hunger Games!"
She smiles, and I turn behind me to see if Gale is standing with the parents. He's stood at the front, and he nods at me, giving me a smile, and I force a smile back. I turn around, and heard the video start. It was the same video every year, and I could practically mouth the words along with it, now.
"Isn't that just wonderufl!" Effie grins at us. "Now, let's begin with ladies first."
She moves towards the bowls, her fingers stretching over the pieces of paper. She wiggles her fingers, twirling her hand, and reaches a finger out to pluck a name from the bowl. She produces it, holding it between her yellow glitter finger nails and showing it to the crowd. She makes her way back to the microphone, and unfurls the paper. Waiting a few moments, she says,
"Dahlia Cartwright!"
Silence. Utter silence. I feel my heart race, and the butterflies errupt in my stomach. My jaw drops, and I look round. There are no cries from volunteers this year. I feel a grip on my hand, from Foxglove, and she squeezes my hand. I feel like I'm about to cry. I turn to look at Gale, who's jaw has dropped, and he stumbles a few steps forward. My mother sets a hand on his shoulder, as two peacekeeps take a few steps towards him to block him from my path.
"Well, dear?" I hear Effie say as I turn back to the stage. "Come on up!"
I gulp, and stumble a few paces forward. The crowd parts, and I see Prim, Katniss' little sister, looking at me with wide eyes. I reach the stage,
and stumble up the stairs, towards Effie's outstretched hand, which waves me forward. She smiles. "Welcome, Dahlia! And now, for the boys."
I take no notice of her as she moves towards the other side of the stage, and stands over the bowl of names. My eyes are focused on Gale, who's looking at me as if his world was crashing down around his ears. But I could feel mine, my whole world collapsing. I wasn't a fighter. I wasn't like Gale, or Katniss, or Peeta - I couldn't make snares, I didn't have talent with a bow and arrow and I couldn't camoflauge myself. I was going to die.
This wasn't an opportunity - it was a death sentence.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of Effie calling the next name: "Cole Aster!"
I looked into the crowd to see a boy, a boy I knew from school, younger than me by a year with olive skin, grey eyes and dark brown hair, cut quite short. His jaw drops, and he looks to the floor, blinking back obvious tears. Immediately I feel sorry for him. From the girls I hear a loud wail, and my eyes flick to see a 12 year old girl, with the same olive skin and dark hair crying into the chest of a slightly older girl, who shares the same look. He slowly makes his way to the stage, and as he reaches the white mark where he needs to stand, Effie is about to tell us to shake hands,
but I have already reached out, embracing the hand of the boy opposite me, looking him straight in the eyes. I will be his allie. We are in this together. I may be dead, but I'm going to get him home. This boy, I barely know.
Effie seems thrilled that I took the initiative to shake his hand, and she grinned at the audience. We were then ushered into the Justice Building,
and I was put into a room, waiting for visiters.