promises • cato the hunger games

One

I wake to the sound of Rose crying. I sigh and drag myself out of bed. I pick her up out of her tiny cot and pull her close.

"Shh, it's okay," I whisper, even though I feel like crying myself. Today's reaping day.

I know it's stupid, I know I shouldn't be so worried about it. I live in District Two, where there'll be careers practically queuing up to volunteer.

But I still worry.

There aren't as many careers as people think, only the rich kids get to train, and quite a few times no one volunteered. What if that happens this year? Who would look after Rose? She can't look after herself, she's barely one. She'd end up in the orphanage, and I can't let that happen. I can't. I promised Mum. God, I miss her.

Things were so much better when she was around, even though we were still living in pretty much the poorest estate in all of District Two. It's huge - hundreds, maybe even thousands of tiny houses stretching out for miles. It's where all of the masoners live, the poorest people in our district. It's a backbreaking job, slaving away in the harsh hot factories, usually leading to an early deathbed.

That's what happened to Dad. I won't go into details.

After he died I got scared they'd throw us out, because Mum didn't work because of Rose and we didn't technically own the house.

But Mum went to the Justice Building and argued and fought until she was blue in the face, and eventually, they gave up and rehoused us, in one of the even smaller houses. It's even more cramped, with only two rooms, but it's better than nothing I suppose.

But then she got sick. I didn't know what do. We couldn't afford to have a doctor see her, and even if we could it would be pointless. We wouldn't be able to buy the expensive medicines from the Capitol.

So she didn't get better, she only got worse. It was torture, watching her slowly die, knowing there was nothing I could do.

After she died, I was scared they'd chuck me and Rose out of our new little house, and put us in the orphanage or something but they didn't. The house belongs to us now, but I've still got to make sure no one notices we're all alone.

The only food I can get is the food the Capitol gives the entire district when someone wins the games (which lucky for us is quite a lot, living in District Two). But there's not really enough for everyone and there's always fights over it. I can never seem to get enough food for both of us.

I try and grow stuff but the weather's not really right for it, and our garden is tiny, so I don't get much out of it. I promised Mum I wouldn't sign us up for tessera, and I won't break that promise. She said there was no point putting our names in more times, and she's right.

Nowadays I just stay in the house and look after my sister. I had to drop out of school, but I didn't care, it was a blessing in a way. It was a crappy school. Full of bullies and back stabbing bitches, and the teachers couldn't be bothered to teach.

When I was younger I used to wish that Mum and Dad could afford to send me to one of the posh schools up north. Now I'm older, I can see this wouldn't be much of an improvement. They train you up for the games at those schools, and you wouldn't get me into that, not even for all the money and the nice house and the food you win.

She starts bawling again and I'm distracted for a while. That's a good thing. The reaping's not till the afternoon so I need distracting, or I'll go crazy. Mum's usually here to calm me down, but not this year. She understood exactly how I felt, especially because her name got called when she was younger. It took longer than usual for a career to volunteer for her. She always used to worry that would happen to me and Rose too.

I give up trying to calm myself down and get her dressed in her dungarees and make her a bottle, and then quickly get dressed into my reaping clothes, the same clothes I've wore for nearly every reaping since I was twelve, (a sky blue dress that matches my eyes. It's beautiful, but I hate it, because it's especially for reapings).

I un-braid my hair and leave it flowing down my back. I've been growing it for a while now and it reaches past my bum (well, if I tilt my head right back anyway).

I pick up Rose and start to walk. The justice building is miles away, but I can't afford to waste money on bus fares. Correction, I've got no money to waste on bus fares. It takes me nearly an hour just to trudge out of the estate and into the richer houses.

I close my eyes for a moment and picture what it must be like to live in one of those big houses (like I do every year). I could lounge around in a fluffy kingsized bed all all day. I could watch a thousand channels on a posh TV, maybe even have a swim in my very own pool. If I got hungry I could go to one of those expensive shops and buy whatever I liked, instead of having to scrap for it. I could hire a nanny to look after Rose so I could have time to myself. I could have afforded to have a doctor see Mum. Dad wouldn't have had to work in the factories. We could afford for Rose to go to a proper school and get a proper education and then get a nice job with proper wage and she could escape the life we've all been sentenced to.

Who am I kidding? Like that would ever happen.

She starts to cry a bit as we get nearer. I think she kind of understands what's happening. I hold her closer and walk over to the registration. "Don't cry, Rose," I whisper softly, and she quietens a little.

I wince slightly as they stick a needle in my finger, and wipe the blood on the paper next to my name - Penelope Smith. I quite like my name. It makes me feel somewhat normal. Ordinary.

The rich kids here have stupid fancy gladiator type names - Brutus and Romulus and stuff.  I think it's because their parents think it'll sounds good, more menacing, in the arena. Maybe it's because District Two is considered 'close' to the Capitol.

I sigh to myself and go and stand with the other sixteen and seventeen year olds. I shouldn't really have Rose here with me but I can't leave her anywhere, and anyway, there are loads of other girls with their younger siblings. Mostly orphans like us. I don't think the Capitol care.

Around me I can see that I'm not the only one who's a bit nervous. A few people are actually shaking. Others, however, are talking about who's supposedly volunteering this year. A girl called Clove, I think they're saying. I relax a little. It looks like there will be a volunteer. Rose seems to sense this and calms down too.

When everyone's gathered, Violetta, our district escort totters across the stage. As usual, her skin's dyed a light purple, and she's wearing a stupid purple wig and a funny green hat. She looks like a bunch of grapes.

"Welcome all, welcome, to the reaping of the 74th annual Hunger Games!" she speaks into the microphone in her silly accent, sounding way too over the top and high pitched.

The rich people clap and cheer. The rest of us clap too, with much less enthusiasm.

"Now, as usual, we have a very special message from the Capitol!"

I roll my eyes. It's the same video they play every year, basically trying to justify how we have to pay for the war years ago, and stop any future rebellion, by 'sacrificing' a boy and a girl from each district for a brutal, televised battle to the death.

I zone out for a few minutes. When it's finished the rich people burst into applause, while me and the poorer people clap robotically.

"Now, it's time to select one courageous young man and woman, for the honour, of representing District Two, in this year's games."

I hold my breath as she teeters across the stage and plunges her hand deep into the huge glass bowl containing thousands of names. Somehow, she manages to grasp on with her stupid fake nails and opens it.

"Penelope Smith."