The Incoming Storm: The Tale of the 325th Hunger Games

Chapter 1

"As a reminder to the rebels that they made the choice to rebel against the Capitol, the male and female tribute must volunteer."

- President Artemia Ring on the 325th Hunger Games and the 13th Quarter Quell

Today is July 4th, on this day for the last 325 years the Capitol, ruling with their iron fist, has forced each of the 12 districts to send tributes to participate in their annual Hunger Games - a vicious pageant where all but one is killed in an arena.

Every 25 years there is a special edition of the games to remind the rebels of their rebellion against them. This year's twist is nowhere close to the worst twist there's ever been, but it could yield a large amount of death. Despite the fact there will only be 24 tributes in the arena, the tributes this year must volunteer. The first question raised in many districts following the announcement was what happens if no one volunteers, but the Capitol swiftly answered by announcing that every half an hour until someone volunteers a random name will be chosen to be publicly executed. Once that person has been chosen, there is nothing anyone can do to save that person.

I worry for the outlying districts who tend to not do well in the games including my own, where volunteers are rare at best. I've spent long sleepless nights dreading this reaping, and thinking, what would cause someone to volunteer for the games.

During my long shifts threshing the fields of District 9, I pondered this question and soon arrived at an answer, or at least one of them. I am strong, pretty quick, and given the grades, I received in school I am a little smarter than the average teenager in District 9. Beyond that, I don't have any family left to care about me, my parents died in a tractor explosion. My older brother is still alive, but he lives on the other side of the district with his wife and I've barely heard from them since my parents' deaths.

Luckily, I was able to stay in my family home following their deaths because my mother was friends with the mayor, Pana, and she pulled some strings so I wouldn't end up in an orphanage.

Because of all these factors, I decided that I will volunteer but only if no one volunteers in the first half an hour. I look at the clock on the wall, I slept in a little since there was no work on reaping day. I roll out of my straw bed and begin to get ready for the day.

I wash up with a bucket of rainwater I collected in the night, I eat some bread I made from tessera grain, and get dressed for the reaping.

I put on one of my mom's old skirts and blouses and I looked at myself in a cracked mirror. If it does come down to me volunteering, I at least won't look totally horrid on national TV. I look at the clock. It is 11 o'clock and the reaping begins promptly at 12:30. I try waiting around for a little while but my stomach is doing backflips in anticipation, most people will be less nervous for this reaping, since if someone volunteers before the first half an hour is up everyone goes home.

When I can't wait any longer I go to my dresser and pick up my mom's necklace. It was the only thing they really could recover from the explosion that claimed my parents' lives. I'd received it in the Justice Building sitting next to my brother two years ago. I place the necklace around my neck and head out the door to the town square.

When I arrive in the District Square, there are already a few people there standing in the roped-off area for children to be reaped or around the sides of the square with their families. I join a couple of other girls from my year in the roped-off area.

I stand there waiting for about 45 minutes, watching as others trickle in from all corners of the district. Finally, the Reaping Ceremony begins. Several people emerge from the Justice Building, the first is Mayor Pana and her partner, next is Clio Flake, our escort from the Capitol, who are followed by two Capitol attendants wheeling the Reaping Bowls, filled to the top with names. Unlike most years, tributes will not be selected from those bowls, instead, they will be executed immediately should no one volunteer in a timely manner.

The last people to emerge are our three surviving victors. The first is the ancient Ri Pain, she is in her late 90s and has long white hair, she hobbles to her seat and sits with a grunt. Next is Maizer Straw, wearing a nice brown suit, and finally is Quin O, the youngest District 9 victor who is just older than 40. Maizer and Quin take their seats and Mayor Pana takes the podium.

She begins the long history of the Panem, the Capitol, and the Districts. The Dark Days that occurred over 300 years ago that we are still paying for. She talks about the other insurrections, the first at the 75th Hunger Games and second at the 200th, both were ended swiftly and reassured the Capitol that order was needed. In return, we have the Hunger Games.

Next, Mayor Pana reads the list of victors dating all the way to the beginning of the games. Since the 1st games, District 9 has had 16 victors. " ...Ri Pain; victor of the 244th Games, Ryelee Takala; victor of the 260th Games, Maizer Straw; victor of the 292nd Games, and Quin O, Victor of the 301st Games.

"With this, I ask all to rise for the Anthem," Mayor Pana says, and the anthem begins. Once it is over, Clio Flake takes the stand.

"Happy Hunger Games!" she chirps, "As we all know, this is a special, special year!" Clio almost dances with excitement, the blue jewels on her dress glittering in the light. "For this year's extra special Quarter Quell, all tributes have the honor to volunteer for their position in the games! Ladies, the clock begins to secure your place to vie for district honor and fame!"

The large screen to the side of the Justice Building displays a clock with 30 minutes that counts down painful second after painful second. For the next half hour, we wait and wait. At every ten minutes, Clio reminds us that without a volunteer she will be forced to choose a name. Finally, the moment no one wanted to come has arrived. The clock displays 00:00 and Clio clucks her tongue, "Where is your sense of adventure?"

Easy for her to say, easy for anyone in the Capitol. It is viewed as the ultimate honor to them. I catch myself thinking about why I thought entering the games would even be a possibility. But something about me is drawn to it, something tells me there is a reason. I am an orphan, I am strong, and I've always been smart, I have a shot.

Clio removes her crisp white glove and walks to the bowl. The crowd goes completely still, completely silent, there isn't even the cry of a baby. This is the worst Reaping anyone alive has ever experienced, whoever's name is drawn has no chance of survival, nothing. Her hand plunges in. There is a collective inhale from all in the District. My stomach squeezes and I think I might throw up. She moves back to the microphone and her mouth opens, "Maris Millet!"

That's it, Maris Millet, sentenced to death. Nothing anyone can do. From the back row, a girl emerges, flanked by two peacekeepers. She is expressionless, she is marched up to the Justice Building and goes inside. A cannon noise is fired, signifying her death. From the crowd, I can hear crying, likely her family.

"Alright, with that, let's open up volunteering once again!" Clio says, and the clock resets.

Before I am even aware of myself, my hand is in the air and I shout, "I volunteer!"