Surviving The Games

Chapter one- The Beginning of the End

  Boom! I hear what sounds like a cannon in the distance. "Yes, I am one of the last tributes still alive", I say as the noise fades away. I hear the cracking of a twig behind me. I turn to face the noise and I hear a laugh, her laugh. and that's when I see her. Those deep blue eyes, the jumpsuit that all the other tributes wore. She has blood on her face, hands and in her long, blonde hair that reaches her waist. She starts to shake and says in a cackling voice, "Ryan, I've been expecting you." Then she throws her knife.

   I wake up screaming. I cant remember what I had dreamt about, but I know it was scary. My mom knocks on the door and comes in with a worried look on her face. She asks, "Are you okay, Ryan?'   "Yes, Mom." I say. I didn't want to tell her the truth because I didn't want her to be any more worried than she already was because of my dad's death. He had died a couple months ago, I think two, but I don't really remember. I just know it feels like only days have passed. My dad was from district four, muscular, and a fisher. He had blue eyes, and blonde hair, and had a tan. He moved to district twelve. I don't know why he moved here, but he brought fish with him.

  "Ryan, breakfast' mom calls. "You better get dressed and eat fast, the Reaping is today." she tells me as I get down the stairs. We are richer than most people, so we can afford luxuries like silk and butter. When I get to the table, I see we have fish, as always, pancakes, and sausages. I eat fast, then go upstairs to change out of my pajamas into my black tuxedo with a blue tie and white undershirt.

  When we get to the town square, I get my finger pricked and go to the fifteen year old section, while my mom goes to the spectators section. The capitol lady is different from last years, but I don't care. She starts talking about how the rebellion caused the Hunger Games, but I don't believe that. She finally walks over to a glass bowl filled with all the names of the district twelve girls from the age of twelve to the age of eighteen.

 she pulls a slip out. "Caitlin Rodle." she says. "Come on up, don't be shy." The crowd applauds as she walks up the to the stage in her white dress and black high heels. I went to school with her fifteen year old sister, Lydia, who says Caitlin was twelve, so I feel sorry for the little girl, but at least I wont be up there, because I don't need to put in extra slips like most families do.

The lady then walks over to the boys glass bowl, pulls out a slip of paper and says "Ryan Redd." I nearly faint. I stumble to the stage, probably making quite a fool of myself, and shake hands with Caitlin. I am taken to the Good-Bye room as I like to call it. I wait for what feels like eternity and the door finally opens and my mom comes in looking like a wreck with big red puffs for eyes. She hugs, and I realize it might be are last. We stay in that position until the peacekeepers drag her out, then Caitlin and I are to the train where we will stay until we reach the capitol.