The Capitol Games

Chapter 1

I returned home from the market, into our ruin of a home. Mum was sat at the table, head in her hands; then i remembered. Today is the big day. The first ever reaping where I might become a tribute.

After the rebellion, after my grandfathers death, after the Capitol fell apart: the new president decided that there will be one final, 'symbolic' Hunger Games. One final Games. The one in which the oldest of those directly related to the people with most power have to fight to the death. That means me. Rose Snow.

I am the oldest of the children in my household- there's me, my mother, my younger sister Lillie, and the baby, Krissie. I did have an older brother, named Brutus after one of the victors of the old Hunger Games. He died fighting in the rebellion- fighting for things to stay how they were. We don't talk about him much. Not anymore.

Mum scrapes her chair back, and waves me in. She's mostly silent nowadays; many people around here are still scarred by the rebellion. As she leads me into the bedroom, I notice the effect the fighting has had on her. When I was younger, she would always be smiling- her bright white teeth in perfect lines, her blushing cheeks, her flowing blonde hair. Her slim, healthy body is now just a bag of bones. Her bright green, sparkling eyes are now a milky grey, and always looking far away to somewhere nobody can see. She is still beautiful, but in a different way. Now she is beautiful in the way that is sad, and wrong. Beautiful because of the tragedy that changed her so much. Beautiful in her own lost way. As she opens her wardrobe, and brings out her least ruined green dress, I notice how frail she looks, how delicate, like she would break if the slightest pressure is put on her. She hands the dress to me, and tells me to have a bath and get ready. She knows. She knows that by the time everybody is back from the reaping, thankful their child wasn't chosen, she will be on her knees, drowning in tears. Losing her mind over the fact that her oldest, most loved daughter will be fighting for her life.

I have a bath in the hot water that mum spent all morning heating, and then I get dressed. As I pull the green dress over my head, I smell the familiar metallic scent of my grandfather. With tears in my eyes, I brush my hair and put on my favourite blue headband. Lillie bounds into my room, laughing, and saying "Rose! Rose! You could get picked for the Game today!!" That's all it is to her. A game. But now I'm old enough to understand it isn't just a game. It's not a game at all. It's the easy way to kill off 24 children, without anyone turning their head. Without anyone but the participants questioning the morality of it. Without people caring who dies or who lives.

I somehow pull a smile from the depths of darkness inside me, just for Lillie. So that she doesn't discover that I'm about to die. She takes my hand and we skip to the kitchen, where mum is feeding Krissie. When Krissie is dosing off, she stands up, takes Lillie's other hand and we go to the village square.