Reaping day has arrived. Jace could barely sleep, so he camped out in my room. I woke up at five thirty, to tend to the livestock that gives us meaning in Panem. My parents normally wake up an hour or two later than me, but it is Reaping day. They will sleep in, along with everyone in District 10. The Reapings don't start until two, and everyone wants to sleep in. I make my way towards the pasture, where our cattle graze.

I make my way out of my house to the pasture. We have the largest cattle farm and this is where the best cattle are raised. We let them out daily, take them in when the weather doesn't agree, and feed them the best food. The Capitol does take our cattle, but they enjoy it very much. I can tell, because President Rector even sent a personal note saying, 'Thank you, Caldwell farm for producing such fine meat.'

I jump the fence and open the barn door. Twelve cows and bulls make their way to the grassy area. My favorite cow, Philomena, waits her turn instead of rushing out. When she comes out, she nuzzles me on my neck. I am shorter than most people in District 10. That's why Philomena can nuzzle my neck. I'm only five foot tall, anyway. Philomena is a simple Holstein and she gives us the best milk.

I pet Philomena and I went to fill the water trough. The grass was tall enough so that the cows can just eat that. I jump back over the fence and go to the horse barn. I feed and water the four horses we own, petting each one as I walk away. If I get called today, will I ever see my horse or Philomena again? I walked back out to the open area of farm and the sun was just rising. It must be six o'clock right now. I head to the building where we keep our hay.

When I walk in, I see my pitchfork hanging up along with an array of knives we bought last year. My father bought them for me when I was closed to being called at the Reaping. The girl beside me got chosen, and my father wants me to be prepared for anything. I grabbed the smallest knife and started to throw. My father did use red tape to mark a bull's-eye and so I can have a target. The knife hit the bull's-eye, dead center.

Every knife I threw was bull's-eye. I have been training for a while, but never expected to be as good as a kid who grew up in District 1 or 2. When I collect my knives, the door opens. My father stares as me, with his ocean blue eyes and tanned skin. His voice is rusty when he speaks. "Jada, it's time to get ready." He rubs his hand threw his raven hair and escorts me back to the house.

When I walk in, Jace and Jetta are already dressed up. Jace was in a simple plaid shirt and dress pants. He was still wearing his cowboy boots. Jetta was wearing one of my old dresses. It was a short blue dress, and it fit her just right. Jetta and Jace looked like my mother. Blond hair, green eyes, pale skin, and a weaker body. I look like my father. We both have blue eyes, tanned skin, dark hair, and have a stronger physique to work with the cattle.

I went into my bedroom and saw a gown in a green shade. The looked fairly new and I couldn't figure out why it was new. We had more money than most, but why would my mother give me a new dress and not Jetta? I shrugged and I put on my dress. It fit perfectly, hugging my body and it made me feel pretty and not just a girl who worked with cattle. I quickly pulled all my hair to my left side and placed in a ponytail. I slipped on my green flats and stepped out from my bedroom. Jace ran to me and hugged my legs. I'm short, but Jace is still shorter than me. His grip tightened on my legs as I tried to move.

"I don't wanna be picked." He cried. I felt tears on my dress and I kneeled down.

"You have one slip in thousands, Jacey." I assure him. "My name is in there four times. Our chance of our names being picked is small."

"Jetta's name needs to be in there." He says as he wipes his eyes.

"She's not twelve yet." My mother says.

"We won't know who gets picked until we get to the Reaping." I say, holding Jace's hand.

When we arrive at the Town Center, crowds of teenagers were already there. I showed Jace to the Twelve section while I made my way to the Fifteen section. We stood and waited for Mayor Overbaker to come up to the stage. When the clock stuck two, Mayor Overbaker took to the podium. He welcomed us to the Reaping and wished us good luck. He read the names of past victors. Over 175 years, we only had a handful. Seven, to be exact. Two are still alive. Their names are Annabelle Tilson and Dane Gurley. Annabelle was still rather young, around late twenties, I believe She won the 163th Hunger Games. Dane is older. He won the 150th Hunger Games. Annabelle and Dane take their seats while our escort pops up on stage.

Kiani Marble had been our escort for years. Her color scheme changes every so often. At my first Reaping, she was covered head to toe in green. She looked sick. This year, everything about this thin woman was purple. Her skin has been dyed, her long straight hair was also dyed, and even her eyes had the same hue. She looks like a walking flower.

"Hello, District Ten. I am pleased to be your escort. I am also pleased to show you a video brought to you all the way from the Capitol." Her high pitched voice stops when the video begins. According to my father, this video has been played every year. But, after the 75th Hunger Games, the story about Katniss and Peeta was added. The video then shows the ruins of Districts 12 and 13 and I see Kiani mouth the words the video says, 'Katniss and Peeta could not see how much Panem cared for them. We let both of them live, and they decided to revolt. If you do what they did, this would be your fate. Your district would be covered in rubble. Do not do what Katniss and Peeta have done.'

The video ends and I can see Jace looking at me. I wiggle my three middle fingers at him. He does the same until Kiani starts up again. "May the odds be ever in your favor. Ladies first!" She crosses to the glass bowl with girl names written on them. In the thousands of slips, four slips read Jada Caldwell. My best friend, Hadley Hasten, is standing beside me. Her brown eyes ringed with tears. She isn't as well off as I am, and has her name in the bowl about twenty times. She has two brothers and both of her parents. We held hands, hoping that she didn't grab our names.

She lingers around the bowl, taking her precious time and finally grabs a name. She walks to the microphone and reads the name.

"Hadley Hasten!"