Johanna Mason- 68th Hunger Games (EDITING- ON HOLD)

Chapter One

   Lights met my eyes as I awoken. I blinked, confused at the bright lights-- I normally wake up early in the morning. Then I start as I remember the news. Today was the reaping for the 68th Hunger Games.

    I quickly sat up and brushed my tangled hair with my fingers. I got up and walked to the door, peered out, and saw my mom walking slowly and vacantly down the hall. I turned around and shut my door. I slipped off my night clothes and put on my black dress with the white spots all over it and the long sleeves. This dress was the same dress I'd worn for the last few reapings. It was getting too small, but that didn't matter. Only one more year after this one, and I'm free of the reapings.

   I brushed my hair quickly, and tied it up in a ponytail and combed my bangs to the side of my head, out of the way. I put on the delicate, flat shoes of mine and opened my door, barely caring about what I looked like. I sure looked like crap, that was for sure.

   I walked into our tiny kitchen. My mom had a cup of black coffee in her hands, and was staring at the wall. I coughed, and she snapped her head up. Then her mouth broke into a forced smile that didn't quite meet her dark gray eyes.

   "You look fantastic, darling," she tells me.

   "It's the same thing as last year," I remind her. I sat down on the opposite side of the rounded table. "When do we have to leave?"

   "Right now, I believe. I let you sleep in, because I we have a long day ahead of us." I detect a very sad, depressed tone in her voice. Kind of like she expected me to get picked. I shuddered and brushed the thought off. I stood up and walked over to the door. I looked at her.

   "Are you coming?" I ask, raising my eyebrows at the question.

   "I think I'll stay here." she murmured. But she got up, and walked over to me. Her eyes were watering. "But I'll say good-bye." My mom leaned forward and hugged me tightly. I felt her chest rise with a shudder, like she was about to cry. I don't know why, but I hugged her tightly too. I was the first to draw back. I looked into her eyes.

   "I'll be back," I say firmly.

   She doesn't reply. Instead, she only whispered, "Good-bye, my darling. I love you so much, and don't forget it. I love you. Please forgive me." My mom kissed my on top of my head, and hugged me one last time. She drew back and turned around without another word. With her hands to her eyes, she ran out of the room, crying. I open my mouth, about to call out to her. I take another thought and keep my mouth shut. Maybe this was one of her depression symptoms or something.

   Baffled, I turned around and opened the door. Something weird was definitely going on here.

   I walked over to our horse pen where we keep our only horse, Cookie. Her mane was soft and freshly groomed when I opened the door. I wonder if my mother had brushed her earlier this morning. I get her harness hanging from the wooden wall and hook it on gentle around her snout, but not the saddle. I hopped onto her bare, chestnut-colored back.

   "Go on, Cookie!" I ordered her. She neighed and trotted out of the pen. Before we did, I leaned out and shut the door. I turned back and held onto her reigns. I bumped up and down as she trots down the pebbly road with the trees looming on either side of us. Then we reached the flat, open road with cars and poor people wagons driving back and forth. 

   I lead Cookie along the ditches beside the busy road, to stay clear of the people and their disgust at the poor, also known as me. Then after a moment, I kicked her gently on the side with my heel, and she runs full speed. The reaping is bound to start soon. I hold on tight as she races along the ditch, and then the town soon gets into sight. We are now right at the entrance, and I pull back on the reigns, making her stop. I slide off her back and tie her reins to a nearby tree, wrapping it tightly with a tough knot I'd learned from my dead father. Hopefully nobody else knows how to untie it-- that, or they'll just cut the rope. I hope for the best and pat her on the back, walking inside the Justice Square. I flatten my ruffled dress as I walked to the place where they check you off.