It's reaping day – finally. I wake up in the morning, as late as possible, because it will be the last night of sleep at home before the games start. I put on my specially designed outfit after I clean myself and brush my hair. It all starts as soon as I walk on that stage.
My outfit consists of a white shirt, purple jacket, and black jeggings. It is perfect because purple is so expensive that no one in 12 could wear anything of that expense. My little sisters come running in the room and attach themselves to me. I kneel down to their height.
"We don't want you to go!" They plead. I give them a big hug and then look back at them.
"I will come back. I promise that next year, I will still be here, getting ready for my first session as a mentor. Promise," I tell them, grabbing their hands.
"Now, go get dressed. It's almost time." I send them off to their room. I just have a few moments to myself before it is time for breakfast. I sit on the bed and go over my will one more time. I wrote one just in case I don't make it out. My knives aren't going to fall into the wrong hands. I walk through the room one more time, touching everything, opening every drawer. I take the maps out and glance over them one more time. I press my lips to the faded, worn out pages and toss them in the fire. I won't need them anymore and I don't want anyone finding them when my room is cleaned out so we can move.
My nerves are building up and I can feel adrenaline pumping through my veins. I look back at the clock. Time for breakfast.
I head down the hallway and take a seat at the table where the platters of food have been put. My plate has already been prepared with two hard boiled eggs, goetta, and apple butter, all my favorites. I start eating, filling up with two portions. I realize I'm not going to be eating at this table for a while.
After breakfast is done, mother doesn't even wash the dishes like normal. I think she might be even more nervous than I am. It is time to leave because the reapings for district 2 are earlier than most. Ours is the second to air.
We walk into the town square and I line up to get IDed while my sisters and my mother go find a spot in the crowd, but not before wishing a good luck. I see Kayla a few people behind me. When I get to the front, I stick my pointer finger out at the peacekeeper. He draws some blood with his needle and then presses my finger down on the scanner. I see my name pop up, along with my height, picture, district, and occupation, which is about to change from student to tribute. Then, I head off to the roped section in front of the podium. I stand with the rest of the sixteen year olds. Unlike other districts, none of them look nervous. They all know they aren't going in, unless somebody stupidly tries to volunteer before I do or I don't volunteer.
It doesn't take long for everyone else to file in. It is amazingly silent with some hushed whispers scattered throughout. The mayor is already on stage, but our escort, Lacey Armor, has yet to come on the stage. Lyme and Brutus are sitting on the stage too, meaning that those two are going to be our mentors. I am upset that Enobaria isn't mine. In less than five minutes, Lacey comes on stage, looking as ridiculous as ever. Her blonde hair has been streaked with purple and her suit is neon pink. Her shoes are super tall purple high heels. I don't know what she did to her eyes, but her eyelashes are some funny shape and her lipstick has been applied heavily.
Everyone quiets themselves when she walks on stage. She starts off introducing the video that talks about the origin of the Hunger Games and Panem. I'm getting more and more nervous as the video goes on. It isn't too late to back out. I could let some untrained girl go in the arena and try again next year.
By the time the video is over, I've almost fully convinced myself that I'm not going to go through with this. I stand comfortably, without worry, as Lacey goes over to the bowl filled with girls names, not as many as the other districts who have to put in tesserae. Her hand shoves in the ball, rolls around for a little bit, until she settles on one. Then, she pulls it out and walks back over to microphone. This poor girl will be going in. I would almost feel sad. Lacey dramatically cuts the tape open with her nail and then reads the name.
All of a sudden, I find myself running towards the break in between the boys and girls sections. I surprise myself when I shout,
"I volunteer as tribute!"