150th Hunger Games ~ The Hidden Cornucopia

Lauren Jays ~ District 7

A/N: I got like 100 reads in a weekend! Shucks.. You guys are too kind. Sorry I haven't posted in a week or something, homework was cray-cray. And then I went on a family holiday-ish type thing. Camping :/ aw well... I'm here now.. Back with my one and only, wifi. :*

Lauren Jays POV

My pupils minimise as I focus on the minute splinter engraved onto my palm. I continue failing with the tweezers until I'm fed up with it. I shove the tweezers into my mothers hand and she picks it out first try. My father and I had been transferring wood from the demolished wood shed to the new one I helped make last night until the late hours of the night. The original shed was brought to the ground by a brewing storm last week. A majority of wood has been shifted but I will continue it after the pointless readings.

It is ridiculous that people get dressed up for something completely and utterly useless. People die every day. In my opinion, people take it far to seriously. Here in District Seven, deaths are common attribute to our everyday lives. Our district is very clearly divided. There are the rich people. You can clearly tell who the wealthier ones are because ere dressed nicer then the others and here names are hardly in the big glass bowl in town square. Then there's there poor, very visible to all. There the ones at are never finely dressed and there name appears in the bowl more times then e wealthy. Luckily for me, I fit in the wealthy section. I zip my emerald green dress up easily with a double jointed arm and make my way down to town square, along with my parents and younger sister, Star. I disperse into the fourteen year old section and star into the thirteen.

We stare at the new escort on stage who is making a fool out of herself. She's very young, I'd be surprised of she was over the age of twenty. She begins with the wind blowing her big wig of curls right off her head which makes the audience chuckle a little just to make her feel that little bit more humiliated. She also looks absolutely ridiculous because all of the items of clothing she is wearing are far to big in size for her and she finds that she has to pull her sleeves up countless times. And lastly, she continues to mumble up her words. This is her first time as escort and she is not finding it easy. It has come that she has resorted to getting cue cards off stage to read the boring speech. This makes the speech that much more annoying to listen to.

The escort chucks the cue cards away with a Capitol flare. The most professional thing she has done in the forty-five minutes we've been standing here for. She makes her way to the glass bowl, walking very over confidently. She finally plucks out a name, and takes it back to the microphone tripping on her heel face planting on the way. I can't help but laugh at her. She gains balance again and reads out the name

"L- L-.." She stutters.

If she says Lauren Jays I swear I will-

"Lauren Jays!" The young girl cries.

"REALLY!" I shout. Everyone looks at my sympathetically. I sneer back at them.

"Don't be shy!" I believe it is my mother shouting. I'm about to be sentenced to death and she still finds a way to embarrass me. I walk up to the escort making a second of eye contact with her. She's a lot prettier up close then on stage but it was hard to see through the squints in my eyes as I was giving her a greasy grin.

"Thank you." I say into the microphone sarcastically then turning to the camera showing off my middle finger to them.

"That's what I think of these games" I say staring into the barrel of the camera. I bet there contemplating whether or not to televise this to all of Panem. Aw well. As I said,

People die everyday.