𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝

Chapter 1

Willow

"You are going to be fine," I said to Levi, "This is your first reaping, no one ever goes in on their first."

We both knew I was lying, There have been countless times that a 12-year-old has gone in and never come out, but Levi nodded at my words nonetheless.

I took his hand and we walked over to the tables, lined with workers ready to take our blood. I turned and smiled at my parents, just like I did last year, and the year before that, and the year before that. It's like a good luck thing.

I felt my brother's small hand squeeze mine and I stopped again turning to face him. I knelt down and looked into his brown eyes, "It's a small prick of blood, you hardly feel it. It's like when you prick your finger with a needle when sewing, it's quick and painless."

He nodded, looking at me silently. I smiled at him, "You're going to be okay. Just follow what they say and I'll find you afterwards, okay?"
"Okay." He finally whispered in response. He leant towards me and wrapped his small arms around me. I held his shaking shoulders and kissed his cheek, before pulling away, knowing he wouldn't. I nodded at him and he stepped back, before turning around to take his place in the queue.

I followed his lead and found my place in the 18 and female line. As I was standing waiting, I watched Levi stand patiently waiting for his own. He stood with his friend, I can't remember his name, but both boys stood without speaking. I remember my first reaping, and I remember being so scared I could hardly see. They got their fingers pricked before I did, and thankfully it was uneventful and simple.

Eventually, it was my turn, and as the lady roughly snatched my left hand, I watched Levi disappear into the large crowd of District 8 boys.
"Next." The lady grunted, hinting I should move on and walk over to the Girls' Section. I rolled my eyes and headed towards the group of District 8 Girls, and took my place at the back. I'll be glad next year when I won't be here.

I had been standing there for about 5 minutes when I saw the Female Capitol Escort walk out on stage with the Mayor. I scoffed at her outfit, she was wearing a puffy, frilly baby-blue dress. Honestly it
looked amazing, but the audacity to wear clothes like that in front of people who can barely feed their families is just something so out of touch that I can hardly comprehend it.

After a pathetically boring speech from District 8's mayor, the escort "Aphrodite" walked forward towards two large bowls. She was met with a round of forced applause as she waved and smiled at this year's potential tributes. The clapping died down and the sound of her sparkly high heels walking along the stage echoed around the town square as a suffocating humidity of tension and fear settled among us all.

Click.
What if she pulls out one of my friends?
Clack.
What if she reads out the name of a 12-year-old?
Click.
What if I have to go to the games?
Clack.
What if I have to watch my brother die, miles away from him and unable to help?

"Now the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honour of representing District 8 in the 70th Hunger Games. As per usual, I'll do the gentlemen first."
Theatrically she pushes her hand into the bowl, diving straight into the middle and fishing for a piece of paper to grasp with her gloved hands. I hear a satisfied hum, picked up by the microphone, as she finally lands on one.

She pulls her hand out of the bowl and I hold my breath and shut my eyes, praying it's not me. Praying it's not Levi. Even with my eyes shut I know she's making a grand show of peeling the tape back and unfolding the slip of paper.

She clears her throat and her voice rings out,

"Levi Webb!"

My eyes snapped open and stared at her, pinpointing at her lips, waiting for her to repeat the name. I've just heard her wrong.

"Levi? Levi Webb?" She repeats, and I feel tears form around my eyes as I hear chatter around me - they all know who he is, who he is to me.

I felt sick as I watched the boys' section shuffle around, making room for this year's sacrifice. My heart is pounding and I can't seem to catch my breath. No, no it's not fair. How can they do this. It's his first reaping. It's not fair. He doesn't stand a chance.

My baby brother.

He doesn't stand a chance.

I snapped back into myself as I watched my brother gently hold onto Aprhodite's hand as she welcomed him on stage, announcing and showing him to the audience as I heard sobs come from behind me. I don't turn around, I can't, I can't see my mother sobbing for her baby boy while my dad helplessly tries to comfort her, trying to desperately deal with it himself.

Aphrodite turned away from him as if he was nothing, just another nameless victim, and back to the bowls at the front of the stage, "And now, for the girls."

As she placed her hand in the bowl and began swirling it around, my mouth moved faster than my brain, uttering words that no one in our district had said before.

"I volunteer." I whispered, struggling to find my tear-stricken voice.

I watched as she continued moving her hand around, having not heard me. Yet I knew I had said it, I knew from the looks the girls surrounding me gave me.

"I volunteer!" I shouted, staring at my brother.
My brothers mouth opened in a gasp, and I saw his body jolt forward, likely to run to me, but was swiftly stopped by the peacekeepers.

"Oh?" Aphrodite's voice seemed to echo in my head.

She pulled her hand out of the bowl, "Is that a volunteer?"

A path was created for me through the girls surrounding me, leading me to the makeshift stage. I take a deep breath and try to confidently walk to Aphrodite to the soundtrack of my mother's pleas and cries. They could lose both their children. And it was my choice.

Finally I reach the stage and the escort offers her hand to me, but I ignore it. I couldn't bear the feel of her silk glove, I don't need her flaunting her luxuries in my face. She scoffs as I walk past her and take the specified space for the Female Tribute.

Because that's all I am now.

I look over at Levi's small form, and I knew what I had done. I'll be dead this time next week - no matter what happens. My brother was gasping for air, staring at me.
"It's okay." I whispered him, giving him as strong of a smile as I could muster.

Shaking his head he whispered back, "No, it's not fair." I watched as tears fell from his eyes and resisted the urge to run to him and hold him, doing my best to make it all go away.

"Sweetie," Aphrodite's voice broke through our secret conversation and my eyes snapped away from Levi's, "I asked what's your name?"

I finally shifted my eyes to the crowd surrounding the potential tributes and saw my mother on her knees, sobbing, with my aunt next to her, holding her. My dad was standing beside her, and even from here, I could see the tears flying down his face as he stared at me.

"Willow," I pushed out, turning my head away from my family and looking at the floor, "Willow Webb."

Gasping, Aphrodite pretended to pity us, "That was your brother, wasn't it? How tragic..." We all know she doesn't care. She's probably happy, we'll be the most theatrical team coming from District 8 in a long time.

She turned towards the crowd once again, wiping the faux sympathy from her face, "Let's have a big hand for our first-ever District 8 volunteer, Willow Webb."

She then pulled us both forward, in front of her, "Here we are, our tributes from District 8."

Usually, the duo is supposed to shake hands, to show some comradery between the two. Instead, Levi flew into my arms, wrapping his shaking hands around me and shoving his face into my shoulder.
I didn't see Aphrodite's reaction, I only heard her speak out, "Happy hunger games, and may the odds be ever in your favour."

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the floor. I just held onto my brother as tight as I could. Who knows how many times I'll be able to hug him before I die?