Ari Granhort, District 4
Truthfully, my life is great. Partially. I've been an only child on-and-off for a few years, with two siblings that recently perished. Daswin died from a tracker jacket sting, and Tayna competed in the past Hunger Games. Tragic, really, but I don't mind. My Mother, Maty, has had countless children, most not surviving for more than a few days. I made a list. Here it is; They are in list of the most recent ones last.
1. Rose-Lily (Died from sickness)
2. Wesley (Too weak)
3. Qelle (Tracker Jackets)
4. Deninia (Accidentaly drowned)
5. Peterson (unknown cause)
6. Delilah-Marie (sickness)
7. Jason-Logan (starvation)
Each of them looked completely different. Rose-Lily had snow white skin and warm brown eyes, she died at 1 day old. Wesley had ash blond hair and ice-cold blue eyes. Quelle died when she was two, she had identical dimples on the sides of her mouth. Deninia was a favorite, with her matching brown eyes and hair, a favored pairing here. Peterson disappeared. Delilah-Marie was sick from day one, and Jason-Logan...we couldn't feed him. And now my Mother was expecting her first set of twin girls. She said that to feed them I would have to win the Hunger Games, and so I shall. The girls, she said, were to be named, Nannalee and Lydianna, after my middle names. My full name?
Arianna Lydianna Nannalee Granhort. What a name for me, huh?
So I will volunteer. The escort for our district was a tall, skinny man who tapped the microphone loudly.
"Now then, let's get started." he squeaked. He furrowed his brow looking at his offical papers.
"Scorpio Trough to the stage, please." he announced. I faintly registered a boy walking up. My mother nudged me.
"That's the male tribute." she whispered. I glared at her.
"I know that!" I snapped. She nodded slightly.
"And for the female, ahem, tribute, Ari Granhort!" our escort boomed. I walked up onstage, and things are going terribly. I felt for our only left money, a golden nugget that was to be my Token. I stared at my mother, and the soon-to-be twins. This is for them, I thought, squeezing the precious metal tightly.