"Marissa, get up," I heard my sister Evangeline yell. I squinted in the direction of the wake-up call. My older sister was practically my twin, but she was two years older. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and looked at her. She donned a purple velveteen dress with rhinestone buttons, and her carrot colored hair was twisted into a wavy ponytail. "Momma says to go get your hair done." Evie, as I call her, pointed to the kitchen. She looked through my shoes spread out on the ground and grabbed a pair of my fancy black strappy sandals, without asking, of course. Sometimes, I think she is the most selfish, inconsiderate person alive. But I could think of some worse.
As I walked into the small kitchen of our fifteenth floor condo, my mom and dad were sitting at the table, coffee in hand, watching a Capitol broadcasting on the television. "Morning," My mom beamed. Her shiny, burgundy hair was in a neat updo on the top of her head. "Morning," I replied with a lot less enthusiasm. My dad smiled and patted my hand, and I smiled back. My dad has lost the ability of speech. That's another story, though.
I opened the glass cabinet near the television and grabbed a mug as I watched the screen. Aula Cogan, the bubbly, screeching newscaster from the Capitol, was babbling on about how exciting today, which is the Reaping, is. Do people over there really think bright purple skin with orange stripes and neon pink hair curled into the shape of a flower is attractive? I feel it's hard to even look at them without gagging. Not to mention their voices; which sound like slithering hyenas.
Aula showed clips of last year's District 1 Reaping as I filled my mug up with freshly-brewed coffee. The mug just reached my mouth when Mom called out, "Now, Marissa Finch! No coffee!" She stood up, but I chugged down the hot liquid regardless. It stung my throat and I felt the burning sensation even after I had completely swallowed the drink. My mom rolled her eyes and took the mug from me. "Mom, I'm 15 now!" I complained. To my surprise, my dad nodded in assent. I put on the smuggest look I have and my mom grabbed my arm. "Come on, I will fix you up."
I followed my mom into her mini- beauty parlor, as hair and makeup is her trade. My dad works among power lines, not only because we live in District 5, but because he doesn't need to speak for the majority of the work. He is a "freed" Avox, but I don't feel he is free. The Capitol took away his tongue because he was falsely accused for a slip-up at the power plant. So I have trouble watching the Avoxes who aren't freed catering to all of the superior Capitol citizens' needs.
My mom sat me down on a stool in front of her dazzling light-up mirror. I looked into the reflection to see a fair-skinned, small teenager with messy, curly red hair, amber eyes, and freckles. My mom appeared behind me, and in a matter of seconds my tangled locks became a smooth, cascading sheet of glossy, ginger curls. Then my mother put a black headband to pin back my side bangs. Using a brush, she applied iridescent shimmer to my eyes and cheeks. On my lips, she put on a pink, chalky lipstick. "You look beautiful, Mary!" My mother gave me a hug.
After examining myself in the mirror, I came to the conclusion I did, in fact, look nice. But as I thought about it, I asked myself why. Why should I bother to look nice for the Capitol, who maimed my father's tongue when it was the Capitol themselves who made a mistake? During my hopeless thoughts about the rulers of Panem, my mother had gone to her closet to get a dress. That's a surprise, considering that since I was 12, I have been wearing Evie's hand-me-downs. I turned around to see that mother was holding a gorgeous, orange satin dress with a lace collar. "Best of luck to all!" My mother mocked our eccentric "reaper" Lulu Granger, who calls the names of the children to compete in the Hunger Games, as she handed me the shining dress.
Due to our family being more well off than many of those in Panem, neither my sister nor I have ever needed tesserae. My name is in the bowl 4 times, and my sister's name 6 times. So, our luck is somewhat comforting. I am way sneakier than my sister, and we always joke about who would win if we were to compete against each other. My money, personally, would be on me. I am so sneaky and decently smart, if I do say so myself. My sister, on the other hand, is about as smart as the average Capitol citizen.
I put on the dress, and I looked fantastic. I grabbed a pair of my mom's flat, brown shoes with laces and put them on. My outfit was complete. Back in the kitchen, Aula was lecturing about how the Reapings all over Panem will begin in less than an hour and all of Panem's citizens, with the exception of everyone in the Capitol, must head to the town square. If you choose to stay at home, you will be severely punished. "We will have full coverage of all the Reapings in every district for your enjoyment!" Remarked Aula in her silly accent. This made me want to barf. For their enjoyment? Please.
My sister was at the table eating some duck meat with an eggplant sauce. I helped myself to some, and Evie yelled, "Hey! Hands off!" I rolled my eyes at the selfish girl and looked around for Mom. "Mom, the Reaping is in less than an hour!" I yelled to nowhere in particular. Momma, dressed in a light blue knee length skirt and shiny cream blouse, came out of her room. "Alright, are you two ready?" My mom put on some patent leather flat shoes that were near the door. Evie and I nodded. Quickly, I hugged my dad, who was still at the table. He grabbed an ink pencil and wrote, "Good Luck" on my hand. I smiled, and the Finch Family walked to the town square.
The town square is the biggest, most open space ever seen in my lifetime. Near Town Hall, there is a large stage where two glass bowls sit on pedestals. Evie and I were stamped and then lead into our age groupings, marked off by ropes. I held up my crossed fingers, and she knew that meant good luck. She just nodded glumly and walked near all her friends. I, on the other hand, don't have as many friends. I am really quiet and secretive, unlike my babbly sister. She is immediately surrounded by teenage girls.
As I walk into my age group, I see Travis Oakland encircled by a group of guys. He is the only boy I have ever talked to that makes me blush. Without thinking, I strutted up to him and said hi. "Oh, hey, Marissa, right?" He said nonchalantly. I knew he knew my name, but he was trying to be cool around his friends. "Uh, yeah…we've talked before." I tried to play it cool. "Yeah, I remember you. Your dad's an Avox, right? He works for my dad, I think." He stepped towards me. "Yeah," I said glumly. "Well, you look really nice," He flashed me with his white teeth. He made my heart flutter, with his deep brown eyes and short black hair.
"Thanks," I was blushing. Then, he did something totally unexpected. He took my hand into his. "Well, what do you say we…" Then, he was cut off by Lulu Granger, the reaping announcer, and escort for the tributes. "Greetings, everyone, and welcome to the 74th Annual Hunger Games Reaping!" She cheered. She looks like a typical Capitol person, with blue skin with inlaid jewels all over. Her orange hair was shaved off on the left side, and she was wearing some kind of fur pelt. Her shoes were the highest, most bright pink heels I have ever seen. I wasn't paying attention to what she was ranting about though. I just wanted to know what Travis was going to say. His fingers were still locked around mine. I looked to my parents, who were standing in the back with all the other parents. They didn't see me.
District 5 has had 9 victors in Hunger Games History, but only three still live, the most recent being Andree Aster. She won the 67th Hunger Games when she was my age. Her technique to win was that she was stealthy and smart, like I am.
Andree was called onto the stage. She is only 22, but she looks like she's 50. All the stress of being a victor, I guess. It would be terrible to live in a house that big in the Victor's Village.
Nonetheless, Andree composed herself as she gave a short speech on what she believes District 5 has to offer. Then, Lulu got back up and said, "Thank you. Now here is Mayor Myers who shall give the Treaty of Treason." Mayor Julian Myers, a lanky, tall man in his 40s, starts to read the Treaty, which is practically a long document written by the Capitol talking about the rebellion, the creation of the Hunger Games, and what will happen if another rebellion starts. I zone out and look over at Travis. He is talking to some other girl while holding my hand. I let go, and he keeps talking to the girl. What a jerk, I thought.
Soon later, the mayor finishes the Treaty. Lulu comes back up and says, "Alright everyone. Best of luck to all!" She screeches as she walks to the bowl full of boys' names. "Okay, everyone, boys first this year!" Lulu picked a name and walked to the microphone. Opening the note, she said clearly, "Travis Oakland."
My mouth popped open. I was mad, but I didn't want for this to happen! I looked over to him, where he was clearly shocked. "Any volunteers for Travis?" Lulu asked. Dead silence. Peacekeepers escorted him to the stage. Wow, what are the chances of that? Obviously, he didn't take out any tesserae, since my dad works for his dad. Well, nothing I can do now.
"Okay, ladies! Let's see who will go into the arena with this handsome young man!" Lulu chuckled and crossed over to the girls' bowl. She picked up a slip up paper. "Li…" she started to read a name, but she dropped the slip back into the bowl. "Oh no!" She gasped, as did everyone in the audience. "I'm so clumsy! I guess I will have to pick another name," While I was trying to figure out whose name was on the half-read slip (Lila Green? Lisa Maugham?), Lulu read the next name.
"Marissa Finch, please."