The Ultimate Battle

Chapter One

*Tris's POV*

The door swings open and my best friend Christina enters the bedroom. "Hey," I say, smiling at her.

"How can you be smiling? Today is reaping day."

She's right. Today is the 74th annual Reaping. Every kid ranging from age 12 to 18 will be in the pool of tributes. Tributes are the people who fight to the death in the Hunger Games. Let me explain.

Almost 75 years ago, our people revolted against the Capitol. I think it was because we didn't like what the president was doing, but I'm not sure. I wasn't alive back then. President Viola decided to do something to get back at us for damaging her reputation. So she invented something called the Hunger Games.

Twenty-four kids-two from each of the 12 districts in Chicago-were forced to train for the Games, and then fight to the death. Only one would survive. The prize was a mansion in Panem, which is closest to District 12, with all the food and money you could ever possibly need. Sounds pretty fair, but it's not much of a reward when you have to dwell on the fact that 23 children are dead because you survived. No one is a fan of these games.

Except for the people in the Capitol. They live for these Games, in which they get to watch innocent teenagers fight to their death. They're bloodthirsty and spoiled, but they don't realize how bad that is. All they care about is fashion and finding a new victor each year.

But there are no victors, not really. There are only survivors.

"I was trying not to think about it," I tell Christina.

"Sorry to bring it up. But we should probably start getting ready."

I nod and walk to my closet. Christina helps me pick out a simple black dress. In Dauntless, my district, we are only allowed to wear black. Or sometimes a very dark gray.

When we're dressed, we head out to the town square for the reaping. On the way, I think of President Snow. He's the one who rules our city, which makes him in charge of the Hunger Games. But he has help from the head game maker, Jeanine Matthews.

She's from Erudite, aka district one, which is the rich part of Chicago. They're in charge of everything technological so it makes sense, at least. I've never met either of them but I don't think I'd want to. Neither of them are the nicest of people.

Finally, Christina and I reach the town square. A group of sixteen-year-olds waits for us to join them. First, we have to get our blood drawn. It only hurts for a second or two, but I've hated it every year.

Christina and I are both worried that this will be our last time together before one of us dies. We clutch tightly to each other's hands as we join the group of darkly-dressed teenagers.