The Boy with the Bread

Chapter 1

There is no chance of the bakery being busy this morning. I can tell by how quiet the house is when I wake up. Usually, my family and I are all up at the crack of dawn preparing for school and firing up the ovens for the day's quota of bread and other delicacies. Today, however, a hush is over the whole house and the bakery connected to it. Even my mother, whose raucous voice could wake the dead, is abnormally quiet. When I glance out of the window, I also notice that even though it's mid-morning, there are no kids from the town making their way to the schoolhouse. Even school is not in session. As I peer out of the window, I realize that all of this stillness could only mean one thing:

Today is Reaping Day.

I lie back down, staring up at the ceiling, hoping and almost praying that I'm wrong. Maybe it isn't Reaping Day. Maybe we just have a day off from classes, or the bakery is on a holiday. Of course, those are both outrageous ideas. School is always in session, with little to no breaks, and my parents would never take a day off from work, not if they want to eat. No, today is definitely the dreaded day of the reaping, whether I want it to be or not. As if to justify my suspicions, in bursts Cain, my older brother. He's not wearing a shirt and has a towel draped over his head.

"Still asleep? Lie around any longer, and you won't have time to clean up for the Big Day!" He exclaims in a singsong kind of voice, leaning against the doorframe.

I grumble something in reply and sit up slowly, not used to sleeping in this late, and still quite groggy. I can hear Cain chuckling.

"Come on, slow coach! There won't be much hot water left for your bath!" I watch as he sits down on the bed next to mine, drying his hair with the towel, having finished bathing himself.

Today is Reaping Day... Today is Reaping Day... The thought keeps turning over and over in my head as I follow my brother's suggestion and head to the bathroom. I let out a yawn as I turn the bath water on and test it. Fortunately, the hot water hasn't run out just yet.

Reaping Day. That means big screens, peacekeepers by the swarms, and the Hunger Games. I can't believe it's that time of year again. It feels like we are still recovering from last year's games; they come and go by so fast. I'm still trying to forget all the images the past year had bestowed upon us.

As I quickly wash myself, I can't help but wonder which two kids will be chosen to be this year's tributes for the games. It's the same sick cycle every year. To continue the established "peace" of all twelve districts under the ruling Capitol, President Coriolanus Snow hosts a grand, nationwide event called the Hunger Games. In these "games," one boy and one girl - ranging from years twelve to eighteen - from each district are "reaped" every year. They are then hoisted off to the Capitol to be put on display for the masses before being thrown into an arena of sorts. There, they are filmed for all eyes to see as they fight against nature, and each other, to survive and ultimately win. The catch? There can be only one winner.

Reaping Day is so aptly labeled the worst day of the year in our district. It is the long dreaded day in which everyone waits to see which two kids from their district will have their names picked to be the District Twelve tributes. The selections are random, as far as I know. Some years back, the boy and the girl that were chosen were from town, even though they hadn't had their names entered in that many times. Some other year, the tributes were as young as twelve years old. It's a cruel game of chance that every kid has to participate in. No one can skip this day unless you're near death. Try to and you are imprisoned.

I quickly dry myself with a towel once I deem myself clean enough and return to my room to get dressed. Reaping Day also means wearing your best clothes since the entire event is broadcasted for every district to watch. Now wearing a dress shirt and slacks, I slip on my best loafers and figure breakfast is in order. I can only hope that there will still be food left and I can hear Cain making snide remarks about the day as I walk down the hall to the kitchen.