The Smartest Of Them All

The Reaping

I realize there's a tear falling down my cheek. I wipe it away quickly, even though there is no one in the little train compartment. I have to stop being so goddamn emotinal, because if a camera catches even a slight sign of fear, it's over. It makes no sense to let things drag me down now.

How did I get here?

That's a stupid question, i know exactly how I got here

It is cold as almost always and the sky is closed. It is the day of the reaping. All the children are standing on a large gravel field. Weare not many, but we have the third smallest number of children in Panem, only districts 1 and 2 have fewer children. I am standing in a group of 15 year olds looking at the stone steps of the courthouse where the counselor of our district is standing.

Her name is Brooklyn and she speaks in such a high pitched voice that my head hurts when I listen to her. She rattles off the old speech thatI already know by heart, always tugging at her wig that looks like agiant cotton candy sitting on her head.

When she goes to the ball to draw a girl's name, though, I get a little nervous. After all, my name is in the ball 21 times. I often had to go get tessera stones, unlike many others here even in this small district poverty and wealth are unequally distributed. Once again, she makes it unnecessarily exciting. Finally, she pulls a piece of paper out of the bowl and unfolds it, scrawling into the microphone,"Finch Crossly"

I remember the shock at the desperation and the coldness that these tw owords triggered in me. Don't make a face, I tell myself. If you look weak, it causes pity, but that doesn't help you when you have to impress the sponsors in the games. Either you are strong and brutal or intelligent and nimble. Otherwise you don't leave a lasting impression.

So I put on a balanced cunning face and walk forward towards the big stone steps. I know how to hide what I feel. It has become deadly quiet in the square. You can only hear the low hum of the dam nearby that converts water into electricity. 

The way seems endless to me. When I finally reach Brooklyn after minutes, no not minutes that can't be my brain is just playing tricks on me, she smiles artificially and I realize how I hate them all. The people from the Capitol who watch us get slaughtered who watch 23 children die every year. How cold these disgusting people are who wallow in money while we have to fight for every cent here. But I do not pull a face .And I am not alone in these thoughts. Our district generally has a low opinion of the Capitol.

I nod to Brooklyn and stand as far away from her as possible. She struts over to the boys' bowl and pulls out a piece of paper."Chris Mark" her voice resounds from the speakers built around the square.

A rather angry looking boy steps forward and stomps up the stairs. Heseems more angry than sad about being elected. In our district it is not an honor to go to the Hunger Games, it is a pain, for everyone. Because we are such a small district we stick together. I know all my neighbors and we treat each other well and nicely.

I wonder how the old lady next door will react when she finds out thatI have to go to the Hunger Games. I hope that the neighbors can take care of my family a little bit in the beginning. When I'm gone, when I'm gone forever.

Eventually my brother will manage to get things too. He willhave to learn to work and manipulate people so that you get what youwant. With intelligence you can do anything you just have to have enough of it.

I'm trying to get a good look at Chris. Maybe 170 cm tall with Asian features, dark eyes and dark hair. He is sturdy but not particularly muscular. I think he's also about 15. He nods at me and I nod back. It's hard to tell, but as far as I can see, he would kill people just to get home, out of the anger reflected in his face.

My head is buzzing with plans. I have to think of a strategy to survive the games. I look for the faces of my family only now. I don't findthem and panic for a moment. My facial features briefly derail, but when the cameraman notices this and pans the camera to me, I have caught myself again.

Of course, they are already at the courthouse to see me off. I should have thought of that earlier. I didn't notice that Brooklyn had finished her speech, but now helmeted peacekeepers are coming at us from left and right.

I have to leave, I think, but I know that from this point on Ican't leave and probably wouldn't get far, so I let myself be led into the huge stone, partly metal, courthouse.