The Hunger Games: 76th

Chapter Three: Racko

         "Racko... Racko get up." I hear my sister call my name as she abruptly shakes me awake. "Its time to get dressed for the reaping." I open my eyes slowly as I stare at her with pure anger.

         "Why are you in my room?" I ask her gritting my teeth. A 17 year old like me deserves his privacy.

         "Mom and Dad told me to wake you up," she says.

        "Well look at that, I'm up," I reply. "Now leave!" She stands up and huffs as she stomps away. I hate the reaping. It's the only day I have to wake up earlier than what I feel in my heart is an appropriate time. I wish that the leaders of District 8 could just pick the names on their on time and go to the kids' houses themselves. Only two more years of this thankfully.

          I sit up on the edge of my bed and gather myself. I could never get picked for these things anyway. Not only because the chances are slim but because I'm just too lucky. I've actually built a reputation for myself. I win literally everything. Card games, dice rolls, even weather predictions. I'm the richest kid in District 8 and probably the richest kid in Panem. My dad owns three different shops here and with all of this success the girls are just falling at my feet. Nevertheless attending this stupid event is a necessity and ditching is punishable by death or whatever. I can't take people seriously here when I own almost twice as much as them.

     I get off my bed and go to the closet where I find the only upside to this event which is the fact that  I can dress in my best clothes, so I pick out my smoothest yellow suite jacket and I'm ready to go. This should brighten everyone's day.

       I walk past the kitchen, my entire family, and the steaming breakfast on the table saying, "See you soon," and I'm gone before anyone has the chance to say anything. I walk through the streets of district 8 where many kids have not began making there way to the hall. It's a decently long walk because I live on the richer side of town. I'm at district 8's center hall and only half of the kids have arrived. In the boys section of the hall I see my friends who usually get here early as well.

       "Hey guys!" I say as I make my way to them.

       "Hey," some of them say in a depressing tone. I see all of them take notice of my suit but no one comments. I know why they are sad. At this age most of them have entered their name in the ballot a lot and there are 5 of us so the chances of it being one of us is pretty high.

       "You seem pretty happy," says Reggie.

       "Why wouldn't he be,"says Norman. "He's the luckiest man alive." I soak in this compliment right before I rub the heads of all of my friends.

        "Maybe some of my luck will rub off on you," I say laughing. No one is even remotely moved by this statement. For the next few moments we just stand with each other as more and more kids feel in. Every second I see someone staring at my jacket. Around me all I see are poor kids with gray rags as clothing. I don't belong here and I am proud that my outfit says this. After it seems that no more kids belong in their section, Rita Usher takes the stage to announce the participants who I will watch fight to the death.

        "Hello everyone," she begins. "For those who do not know me I am Rita Usher hosting this year's District 8 reaping. Every year..." I basically block out all of her talk about history and what not until she gets to the good part. "Ladies first," she says right before walking over to the large see through glass box which contains many names written on a piece of paper. At this moment I think about my sister and the fact that it could be her. I find comfort in that thought and not having to fight for many possessions. Everything would be mine. I secretly cross my fingers as she pulls a name and reads it out loud. "Kamla Havlock." This is not my sister. I look at her expression of shock and devastation as I see every year on a new tribute's face every year. Unfortunately she is extremely pretty but there are plenty more fish in District 8. She walks onto the stage and now Rita is prepared to move on to the boys. I look at my friends who all look like they're about to pee their pants. I want to tell them to relax but i know there is no getting through to them at this moment. I'm prepared to hear the unlucky soul's name as Rita pulls out a piece of paper and reads the name, "Racko Brosner."