(Euca Trinmon D3)
My thoughts are racing as I lift the knife closer to my chest. Do it! I shriek to myself. There's no point in living my drab, painful life anymore. The sharp steel almost makes contact with my skin when a curt voice rings from behind my bedroom door.
"Euca! Get your ass down here, the reaping starts in twenty minutes!" Willow Petra, the orphanage owner for our District bellows harshly.
If only I had done it a few minutes earlier…
Wiping the dust from my plain, ragged once-spring-green sleeveless dress and giving my dirty blonde hair and foggy blue eyes a disdainful look in a cracked mirror, I race down the stairs to meet the rest of the orphaned children for the quick walk to the drab town square.
When I make my way to the other fifteen's, eyes fixated on the scattered gravel, an aura of anxiety fills the air. Most faces are filled with fear. I don't blame one person in the slightest. There aren't many Careers who train in District Three, because most of us are barely getting by.
Mayor Faber, a balding man with dark, beady eyes steps onto the reaping stage awkwardly and begins his speech, starting with the Dark Days and progressing to the Treaty of Treason. I finger the fake hibiscus flower that is strung onto my bracelet, tears pricking my eyes.
Flora. Remembering the day she gave me the small gift would cause too much pain. I wouldn't be in such a mess if I had a sister to talk to, to cry with me, to understand me. But she's dead. Just like any other person I'd been close to. Now I'm left with only myself, and a dreary, useless life.
The words of Mayor Faber begin to fade in my ears, and are replaced by a shrieking, painfully happy voice. Flannery Tyson, a young woman with flowing black hair, a sparkling red cocktail dress, and brown eyes with no pupils is jabbering bubbly about the same old Hunger Games excitement crap.
Before I know it, she's reaching into the girls' reaping bowl, and I can't help but realise the chance that is being offered up to me.
"Clarity Myers!"
Mind racing, I gasp, "I volunteer for tribute!"
I stare at the ground as I slowly walk to the reaping stage, and quickly sneak a peek at the audience. Most faces are painted with confusion. Their thoughts brim in my mind. Why would she volunteer?
To die! I want to scream at them. To die knowing that some people will know who I am, that I will at least make my mark on Panem.
My first instinct is to cringe from Flannery's too soft skin, but I force myself to firmly shake her hand. She gives me one swift look of curiosity, and then strides to the boy's reaping bowl.
"Mace Ioan-Daire!"
A handsome sixteen with jet-black hair and chocolate brown eyes takes the stage, wearing a cold, calculating stare. I don't even acknowledge him, and he seems perfectly fine with that. Peacekeepers drag us along to the Justice Building, and we are seated steel chairs with black cushions.
Mace does not receive any visitors, and I don't have to kid myself into believing anyone would come to see me. But when a set of doors slowly opens, I see Rowan Yancey. I had talked with him a few times before, and I guess we had developed some kind of friendship, or else he wouldn't be here. He gives a quick wave, and then begins to speak.
"You do well in that arena, okay?" he says awkwardly. I don't have the heart to tell him I volunteered only to get killed, so I nod and smile at him warmly.
"Okay."
(Male Infantry Droid Model/Mace Ioan-Daire D3)
The Creators initiate a final bug scan before I am racing through the streets of District Three, in hopes of reaching the town square before the reaping ceremony commences. As had been mentioned countless times by the Creators, I was to find a place among the sixteen's.
Mayor Faber, a key component in making my existence possible steps onto the stage to give what must be a eulogy on the Capitol and the so called "Dark Days." Unlike numerous citizens in the crowd, I had not experienced a reaping before. Listening intently to the speech, one question crosses my "mind."
How do humans, so surrounded by beauty, could have created such horrid troubles for themselves?
The emotions, it must be. Stubbornness, being a large contribution. No person wants to change themselves mentally to please others. Unlike droids, who can be considerably more likeable.
The Capitol is certainly curious. As I listen to the seething words of Mayor Faber, it has become evident as to why I was employed to help overthrow them. Why I will be used as a means of fighting the Capitol, first by obliterating the Hunger Games.
The government is so corrupted with trepidation of their inferiors, that they will go to such lengths as killing children to satisfy their need for secured power.
As Mayor Faber bounds off the stage, a rather strange woman takes his place. How loathed she is by District Three! When she has chosen a female tribute, another girl has expeditiously volunteered, and she makes her way to the stage in an unnoticeable fashion.
The Capitol woman then pulls and calls my composed name from the glass ball,
"Mace Ioan-Daire!"
The Creators have told me to come across as calculating, which is prosperous. The girl and I are brought to the Justice Building, the place where my construction had begun, except deep underground. This time I am placed in a dark velvet seat, clearly above ground.
A boy comes to visit the girl, who I now have learned is named Euca, and the share a quick exchange that I do not care to listen to.
My only thoughts are veered to the plan I had been assigned to, overthrow that painstaking Capitol and have a new world blossom.