Ashes in the Snow

Part 1: The Tribute - One

I had woken up from a restless night. It was the night leading into The Reaping. A day once a year where a boy and a girl from each district are chosen to be slaughtered. However, there is one victor. And that victor is filled with a riches and a nice home. They get to live out the rest of their lives in peace. The tributes are between the ages of 12-18 years old. The older you are, the more times your name is in bowl. Right now I am 18 years old, so this will be my last reaping. This is the last one I need to make it through, then I will never have to live in this fear ever again. I don't plan on having children, I could never give someone this kind of fate. Sometimes I question how my parents could ever have me. Why subject me to this?

I wash myself in the tub, which is ice cold. Then I throw on my nicest dress and dress shoes. I am wearing an olive green dress which usually goes well with my features. I rinse my face with cold water, which usually helps calm down my nerves. I stare up at the mirror and look into my eyes. I have my fathers eyes; moss green with the golden hues around them. He isn't around anymore and my eyes are the only thing that remind me of him everyday. My mother got rid of his things after he passed away. She couldn't bare to look at his things.

I comb out the snarls in my hair, which I have a lot. My thick, dark brown locks are always a pain to comb out. I prefer my hair down, so I twist some parts in my hair and then do a fishtail braid. On the sides of my hair I do a dutch-braid and regular braids underneath that. I've practiced different braids since I was a little girl. I've always loved having my hair down, but also needed it out of my face. My mother used to call me her Little Viking. She said that's how Vikings used to wear their braids in books she's read. I'm not too familiar with what a Viking is, but she says they're warriors who are brave with quick wit.

Most people in district 12 don't take care of their hair too well. We have other priorities, such as whether we're going to eat today or not. Most of us around here are dirty all the time, from the dirt that covers the road. The dirt seems to follow us into our homes and even into our beds as well. We don't live the best like districts 1 or 2, but we make what we have work.

I walk down the road where the reaping will begin with my mother. We part ways and I go where the rest of the children are. Holly Mae looks over to me and gives me a big smiles and wave. Holly Mae just turned 12 a couple weeks ago, so she is still very young and doesn't understand what the Hunger Games is. I just give her a small smile and wave. She is the sweetest girl I've ever met. Her family owns the bakery in town and I used to babysit her when her folks had a lot of work to do. I pray she never has her name drawn. She wouldn't last an hour in the arena, she is too kind and wouldn't understand what is going on. A lady in a brightly colored outfit, including her hair, walks on to the stage. She finished her speech, which I didn't even pay attention to and announces, "lady's first."