AUTHORS NOTE
I want it to be clear that this is not written exactly to the information given in the Hunger games series, and is completely a figment of my imagination. However, there will be parts of this story that refer back to the original text.
Thank you for reading!
Lucy xox
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Everybody hates the reaping. In fact, everyone here at Twelve hates the games.
But, there are some things in life that you just can't change, and therefore, you just have to deal with them.
The games is one of those things.
My family has struggled to keep themselves for a long time now, even though I have been collecting Tesserae since my twelfth birthday. I am the only family member who currently qualifies, and so, this year, my name is entered in the reaping twenty four times. Four years worth of mandatory entry, and Four years worth for each of my five family members.
And with the quarter quell this year, I am petrified that it will be my turn to face the arena.
The call for the reaping is made, and, feeling more worried than ever, I make my way to the square, where the reaping is anually held. I see Maysilee, her sister and her friend all huddled together. There is no chance of them being reaped. They don't claim tesserae. They are Merchant's children.
I check in, as is required of all 12 - 18 year olds on reaping day, and go to the hoarding pen for my age group - Boys of sixteen years. I wring my hands together in anxiety, wishing for this all to be over as soon as possible.
It takes a while for everyone to settle down, and then I see the capitol lady walking up to the stage.
'Welcome Welcome Welcome! Happy Hunger Games to you all, and may the odds be ever in your favour! As you know, to commemorate this years quarter quell, not two, not three, but four tributes from each district, will be placed in the arena. A total of forty-eight tributes will compete this year, for the honour and pride for their district.'
The video plays, the one about the rebellion, and my stomach churns. What if I am reaped?
'Now, look at that, children! Some real evidence of Pride! Now, shall we begin?'
I don't catch the first two names she reaps, but both are young. It's horrible, seeing the youngest getting reaped.
'Our third tribute, is Maysilee Donner!'
My heart stopped. I couldn't take this anymore. This just couldn't be happening.
Not my Maysilee.
I wait anxiously, worried about who the final tribute will be. I glance down at my sweaty palms, unable to look at Maysilee's stricken face any longer. She's trying to be strong, but I didn't miss the single tear that escaped and tumbled down her cheek.
I snap up my head at the sound of rustling paper, and my eyes follow the slip of paper that the capitol woman retrieved from the boys' bowl. I feel the fear rising up inside me, threatening to engulf me completely.
'And, our final tribute, from district twelve, is Haymitch Abernathy!'
