𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞.)

The Feast.

--------------------------------------------------Harley Jones
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I silently woke, staring at my bland wallpaper. My hand reached along the hard, cold mattress to find nothing. I began to sit up, eyeing the curtains which light had begun to stream through. My eyes narrowed, remembering it was the worst day of the year. The Reaping.

I unwillingly get out of bed to my mothers obnoxious calls. I pace into the dining room, where I see a small breakfast that contains bread and eggs. I brush my hair out of my face, And nod, "Thank you." I wait for a polite reply from my mother, but I seem to give up after so many seconds.

After I've finished , I look to my mother washing the dishes roughly. I suddenly hear a soft murmur come from her, "I've put something out for you," She says in an almost soothing tone. I dont reply. I drowsily head toward the Washroom and admire a beautifully adorned Blue dress. It has beautiful ruffles which compliment the collar. Yet, I feel it's an overkill, and It doesn't compliment my dark hair.

I'm so suddenly overwhelmed by the fact my name has been entered 42 times. I had signed up for the tesserae, seeing my family always needed more of the money. I shake my head, slipping on the dress. I see my mother appear in mirror, ".. You look beautiful Harley." I shake my head again, turning to face my mother. "Like you ever cared." I brush past her harshly, pacing outside. I sit on my porch step, my head burrowed my lap. I feel as if everything from the past has been re-written.. The games were destroyed once before, but now they came back. It seemed as though the past came flowing into today's regular reality. The games had started back up Three years ago, as they had been done before. There was a huge gap of peace, until the past President Snow's Granddaughter had taken over, and started them in her grandfathers honor. I hear a voice, and the pounding of boots along the turf. I look up to see my best friend, Marcus Hawthorn. I admire his soft brown hair, and his firm-ish build as he runs over to me brushing his hand comfortingly against my cheek. "Are you okay?" He asks plainly, I miss the comforting voice he usually had. Yet no one was particularly 'normal' on horrorific Reaping Day.

I nod absently, "Fine.. Just," I hesitate, as he finishes my sentence. "Scared." I feel ashamed, I shouldn't be scared. Well, maybe I should. "How many times is your name in there?" He asks, completely interrupting my thoughts. "Forty-two." I answer, my voice fading effectively. He nods, beginning to understand my horror. My mother ashamedly, and shyly cracks open the door, dismissing us quickly. I sigh. My mother had never been very present in my life since my father passed away. It was as if she had disappeared, and now she wanted to reappear to me. I wouldn't let that happen, as she had given me the worst childhood, practically ever. I personally dismiss my thoughts, going toward the Town Centre where they always did the reaping.

We arrive at town square, as my heart aches, and my stomach churns. I repeat in my head, Forty-two. Forty-two. The thoughts disappear when i hear, "Next. Cmon! You, next!" I eye the Peacekeeper, seeing their uniforms have returned to their usual white. I feel like im going to throw up,yet my face stays blank. I approach the PeaceKeeper, where she pricks my finger. It successfully spurts out blood, where i flinch. She nods, using some sort of scanner. "Go ahead." I wander blindly into the girls side, standing in the back. I scan the boys section, successfully pinpointing Marcus. I look back to the front, where Lithel Trinket and three others walk out, swarmed by peacekeepers. My heart seems to sink lower and lower with every clank of Lithel's High Heels. I end up fazing out until they've shown the idiotic story of how this bloodbath started. I'm snapped into reality by the squeaky voice of Lithel, "Oh, Now. Ladies First!!" I swallow. I can hear the wrinkle of papers as her glove-covered hand swirls around in the glass ball that may decide anyones fate. She finally picks one, pulling it up from the bottom. She paces towards the microphone, her heels clanking loudly. She places her hands in front of the microphone, opening the easily taped piece of paper.