I want to cry. It's the reaping and my name is in 30 times. I'm only sixteen.
I look around and see my three sisters still sleeping. Helena, my youngest sister is cuddled up next to my Mum, she is so innocent, so young. She shouldn't have to go through watching the bloodlust and death every year.
I gently arouse them all and they all prepare for the reaping even though only me and my older sister Sophia have to actually have our names reaped.
I pull on a white dress that ends at the knee and is covered in black polka dots. I look like a dalmation. I see Sophia in a simple blue dress but her hair is in an intricate braid and decorated with bluebells making her look like a fairy and Lia (my other younger sister) is wearing a scarlett dress that complements her tanned skin tone but Helena looks stunning in a sea green dress much too mature for her age. It reminds me of him. My Dad.
We live in district 4 but ever since my dad died we have become almost outcasts. Sophia is so ladylike and would make the perfect wife, in fact if both of them are not reaped then she is going to marry the mayers son but my family relies on me. I can swim amazingly and work everyday after school, I catch fish and run errands to pay for things. My mother is far too busy looking after the children. Lia is so much like Sophia but Helena has always been like me, thats why she is my favourite.
I sign in as I have done for 4 years and hope that it will not be me. It can't be me. I take my place among tje other 16 year old girls and try to spot Helena but the district escort wobbles on to the stage. I daydream as the treaty of treason drears on until it is time to call the names.
"Could Zahra Green please make her way on to the stage," warbles the high pitched capitol accent. People are staring at me. Why are they looking at me?
"Zarha Green please," the voice calls again and I slowly trudge up to the stage.
