Welcome to a world of Panem where the odds in the 74th Hunger Games were in FoxFace's favor bringing Katniss and Peeta's chances of victory to a brutal end. Now the Games are still continuing and the 80th Games are about to take place.
When Dayna is reaped for the 80th Games will she crumbled to dust or will she take victory?
It was raining again. It was no surprise, considering that it had been raining all season. District 8 was rainy at this point of the year when the Hunger Games were to take place. It was almost as if the sky was letting down tears of despair for the unlucky children to be chosen as tributes. "C'mon, Daynie!" my perky chipmunk of a best friend, Drascra, told me with her strawberry blonde hair tied up in a bun, "Or we'll miss the reaping". Strangely, unlike most District 8 people, Drascra seemed to be alright with the fact that she or I could be taken in to fight to the death and probably die. But we were fifteen now and still we hadn't been reaped so we had hoped for the best. Drascra and I arrived at the Reaping gathering which was held outside, despite the slight drizzle that dampened our hair. A tall woman who had clearly had her fills of surgical alterations sat next to our victors. Our female victor who had dark-brown curls and was wearing a black dress sat next to our other victor who seemed to be quite distraught.
After our Mayor explained the whole story of Panem's rise from the ashes of some old place called North America, the woman from the Capitol (who was the one with surgical alterations) came up to the reaping bowls. Suddenly, I felt uneasy and anxious. The way I felt when it was my first Reaping. It felt like time had slowed down as the lady reached into the ladies bowl saying, "As usual, Ladies first!" She pulled out a name and called out loud and clear and I swear that day will haunt me the rest of my life.
It was the day I was thrown into a deadly situation, but I had no idea how much more deadly it was going to become. "Dayna Alrythe!" the woman proclaimed as loud as possible. I felt as though someone had ripped me in two. That's when I heard the wails of Drascra as she began to pull me away from the crowd. I just froze and let myself be dragged off until the PeaceKeepers ripped her away from me. "No! No, no, no, no!" she wailed. Two other PeaceKeepers pulled me by my arms toward the stage. I am forced to stand on stage and I'm vaguely aware of the woman who calls out another name and a short boy probably no older than twelve steps up on stage looking quite confused as if he can't believe this is happening. And then I begin to drift off and think of my brother and his untimely end in the Games of a couple years back.
He caressed my cheek and wrapped me in a bone-crunching hug. He was so big. He smiled and dried my teary eyes. "Come on, now don't cry", he said. I smiled.
"But what if something happens to you? I mean, how many times does District 8 not get killed at the bloodbath?" I warble.
"Nothing is going to happen to me and I'm going to come back safe and sound and see your smile again", he said softly and hugged me tight again.
He smiled.
"You're really going to come back?" I asked, half sobbing.
"For your smile: any day", he responded…
"Ladies and gentlemen, your tributes!" the woman said, "Go on you two, shake hands". The boy and I uncomfortably did so and we then turned back to face the public and I looked into the faces of the crowd and I realized that this nightmare had only just begun.
I was escorted into the Justice Building and led into a room. I sat there for a while and began to think about what had just happened to me. What the hell am I supposed to? I think. How am I supposed to win this thing? In the history of District 8, we have only had four victors and two of which are dead. And half of the time District 8 tributes are killed at the bloodbath. How am I not going to end up the same way? Suddenly, my family and Drascra burst into the room. I stared at them and I attempted to smile.
"Guess the odds just weren't in my favor this year," I said and my mother, my wonderful, short, chubby and dizzy mother who can make a good situation out of anything looked sadly at me. I turned to my dad who seemed to be extremely sad and angry. He gra