𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.Cato Hadley

1.

~•~•~•~
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲
~•~•~•~

The day has come again. The Reaping Day. I dread this day, the day when innocent children are chosen for certain death. Mom and Dad always said this system we live in is twisted. If you're from a rich family, you're safe. Otherwise, you have to participate in that thing called the Hunger Games.

These are Games for which each year, one boy and one girl from all twelve districts is chosen to go to the Capitol where the arena awaits. In this arena, all twenty-four children, called tributes, must fight to the death until only one remains. We call them the victors.

I don't know anyone from the Capitol, but they must be messed up to enjoy watching kids fight to the death. It's sickening. And the worst part? There's nothing we can do about it. When I was only thirteen, my parents tried to resist, and the peacekeepers beat them to death. It's a miracle they didn't kill me too.

Now I am sixteen and I live alone in the house they decided to leave me until I turn eighteen because they couldn't leave a thirteen-year-old girl without a home back then. Not that I stay at home often, most of the time I go to sleep at my best friend Layla's place.

She is all I have left. Her family is more than good to me and I am very grateful to them for taking care of me. I don't know what I would do without them.

"What are you still doing here, Mel?" Layla's voice startles me. I turn to see her waiting for me to get ready for the ceremony.

"Jesus Layla, you scared me! How did you know I was here?" I say.

"Well, where can you be if not in the forest? You're here every day, I don't know how you don't get bored."

"I'd rather be here than at the Reaping," I reply. No one from our district wants to be there. Maybe the people from Districts 1, 2, and 4 do, since they train for this, but not us. They even volunteer to participate in the Hunger Games.

"I'm sure of it, but you still have to get ready. You never know, you might be chosen, and you should at least look good," She jokes.

"I'm glad you're finding this day fun," I say dryly.

"Oh, come on, you know you won't be chosen. What are the odds?" But that's the problem. There's a good chance it will be me.

"Thirty-five. My name is in there thirty-five times." Layla's smile fades, replaced by worry.

At least I'm glad that the chances of it being her are very small because her name is only four times there. Her brother Gale is doing his best to keep her name from being entered more times, but on the other hand, his name is probably in there more than mine.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Gale's name is in there forty-two times," She says and my eyes widen. This is not good at all.

Gale is like a big brother to me. We've hunted together often, and he's always been there for me. His chances of survival are higher, but still, the odds are terrible.

"Do you think they'll choose him?" I ask Layla.

"I hope not. It's his last year. I really hope not." She's worried, but I try to stay positive. Gale is strong and has a chance to win if chosen.

We sit in silence on a big rock, just enjoying the life we have left. Days like this remind me to appreciate being alive, while the one chosen today won't be for much longer. I finally stand up.

"Let's go change and look good for the ceremony." She smiles, and we head home.

I showered and put on my green dress which was a gift from my mother. She gave it to me when I was twelve and said that when I grow up I will be able to wear it. The dress is nice, soft and suits me. It's a sin to wear it for this awful occasion.

I look in the mirror and I can admit that it fits me well. I wish on days like this my parents were there to comfort me as they did when I was twelve. Now I'm scared, I try not to show it but inside I feel a huge fear and I can't admit it to anyone. I want this day to be over and to sleep in my own bed in the night.

I make a simple braid and leave two small strands in the front. I think I'm ready to go to the ceremony. My stomach churns just thinking about it.

~•~

The moment has come. We have gathered the girls in one place, the boys in another. Because Layla is a year younger than me, we don't stay in the same place, but she's still not that far from me.

She turns to me and says with her lips "Everything is gonna be okay" and I smile at her. I hope everything will be alright. But I have to admit that she's right, there's still a big chance they'll choose a girl I don't even know, as happened in previous years.

Now I turn my attention to District 12's escort - Effie Trinket. This year she's all in pink - her dress, her wig, and her face is white. She steps onto the platform in her high heels, which I'm sure she finds difficult to walk in, and begins to speak into the microphone.

"Welcome! Welcome! Happy Hunger Games and may the Odds Be Ever in your Favour!" She says with enthusiasm. I'm sure she doesn't like her job, but I can't judge her. I mean if I was an escort of District 12, I would probably hate this job.

"Now, before we begin, we have a special message brought to you all the way from the Capitol!" She continues.

"War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone champion, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future."

The Capitol always plays the same video every year, which I hate watching. I try not to focus on the video but to distract myself with something. I look at Gale and he at me and we smile at each other. Then I notice that the video is coming to an end.

"I just love that! Now, as usual, ladies first!" Effie Trinket goes to the bowl with the names and puts her hand in it. The silence is deafening, I can hear my own heartbeat.

Every year she delays on purpose to have more tension. She feels for several papers with names but finally chooses one and picks it up to read.

I can already imagine how she reads my name. But instead, I hear something far worse.

"Layla Hawthorne"

xoxo.