Disclaimer still stands.

So this chapter sort of sucks, I know. It gets so much better I can promise you that. Keep reading.

Move on to the next chapters. It will be worth it.

District 8 is a terrible place to live. I say this because having lived here my whole life I have never felt

any pride in it, never felt any joy by walking it's asphalt streets or circling its tattered square. The

streets, lined with large industrial factories and warehouses, are hardly walked upon in the daylight. I

only pass a few gray faces as I walk along them towards my school. The constant smoke that covers

our district contributes to the ever gray tone that lies here. Gray homes, lined behind the factories,

match each other both in color and gloominess. I've never strayed too close to them. My father always

told me it was unsafe. So I walk along the edge of the Justice Building until I reach the square.

The atmosphere in the square has changed these past few days, as they do at this time every year.

Colorful banners encircle the square, trying to distract from the bleakness that surrounds them.

In two weeks time, the people of District 8 will emerge from the dark factories to crowd into the square.

It's the time of the Reaping. I will have to line up with all the girls my age who openly despise me and

wait to see which of us will be chosen to enter into the Hunger Games.

I try to fit in at school. I try to blend in, to look and act like all the kids who spend most of their days

hunched over sewing machines, inside a dark factory. But they won't allow it. They all despise me, even

loathe me. They seem to think that because my father is the mayor I have privileges superior to theirs.

Maybe that's true. I'm not sure. But they treat me as an outcast, purposely ignoring me or passing

glares when they know I'm looking.

One person stands out among the crowd though. She actually looks past my status as the mayor's

daughter and the privileges I seem to hold and is my friend. We walk together now as our teachers

usher us out for the day's end. We walk along the asphalt streets towards a dull gray factory where

she must work for the rest of the day and throughout the night like most other citizens of District

8.

Though I know I am lucky to live the more eased life that I have been given in this kind of world, I envy

them. I envy those people who work in the factories and warehouses until dawn. They are doing

something important it seems. They're working; creating. I sit home, meeting district representatives

and Capital snobs. I just go through the motions with little feeling. It's the same routine everyday, and

I'm tired of it. What I don't really understand is why they should receive less than me? Why should I be

given a comfortable home and nice clothing? What makes me so important?

I haven't seen what it's like for them first hand, no matter how desperately I want to. I want to see

how the people of my district live and work. "Taylor?" My friend's voice snaps me out of my thinking and

I turn to look at her. "You okay?" She looks at me curiously, like I have a written disease across my

face.

"I'm fine. Really." She doesn't look convinced but turns to the dull factory behind us.

"You'll tell me tomorrow then?" she questions as I begin walking towards the Justice Building.

I turn and nod slowly. "See you, Lace."

I make my decision then. Tomorrow, I will see how my District runs. First hand, without my father's

knowledge or consent. I will not continue in this ignorance.