The Hunger Games

Chapter 1

I looked in the mirror as my mother braided my blonde hair into two long plaits. She tied the ends with pieces of blue thread and smiled at me in the mirror. I watched as the door opened behind me.

"Hey, Silk," Thread said. He walked over. I grinned.

"Hey, Thread."

Thread was 18. Today was his last Reaping. It was only my second, but we were both signed up for tesserae. I was nervous.

My mother's long, dark fingers smoothed out the skirt of my denim dress. She fixed the zipper on the back and bent over to buckle my shoes. She was graceful. Like a dancer.

"Scared?" I asked my brother. Thread was in a blue Oxford shirt and black pants. He wore brown dress shoes. He tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Nah," he responded. "Being scared won't help my odds any."

I knew he was right, but I was afraid anyway. I didn't want him to get picked. And I didn't want to get chosen, either.

Thread kissed my forehead. "You're going to be just fine, Silk. You won't get picked."

I gave him a weak smile. "That's not the only thing I'm worried about."

Thread slipped his hand into mine, and we walked out the front door. All of the other kids were flooding the roads on their way to the Reaping. I waved at my friend, Echo. She waved back halfheartedly.

Thread and I had to split up once we got to registration. I hugged him tightly before we filed into our lines. I winced as my finger was pricked. My information was displayed on the small reader: Rose, Silk. District 8. 13 Years Old.

I followed the flow of girls my age to the square where we stood. Echo made her way over to me and stood beside me. She squeezed my hand nervously. Her long, dark hair was in a single braid down her back.

We listened as our district escort, Tulip Waters, said the same speech as she did every year. She then made her way over to a large, glass bowl. "Ladies first!" She chirped.

Her hand dropped into the bowl for a minute, fishing out a slip of paper. She held it up. There was a dramatic pause.

"Silk Rose!" She exclaimed.

I froze. What? What?!?!

"Silk!" Echo cried. She threw her arms around me.

I squirmed out of her grip, not wanting to make a scene. I walked up to the stage, tears threatening to fall. I looked over at Thread. His face was a mirror of shock. My mother was sobbing furiously. My father hugged her and kissed the top of her head. He murmured into her ear to soothe her.

"Coda Kramer!" She called out for the boys name. He was 18. One of Thread's antagonists. His sister was one of mine. The Kramer's didn't like us much. He walked up to the stage and shook my hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the District 8 Tributes for the 74th annual Hunger Games!"

There was a lot of fake applause. We were escorted to the Justice Building.

"Silk," Thread ran in. He enveloped me in his strong arms. "Oh my god, Silk."

My older sister, Erna, stood by the door. She wasn't sure how to react. Erna had just celebrated her 19th birthday a few weeks ago.

I hugged him tightly, tears streaming down my face. My parents walked in and joined us. They didn't say a word, just hugged me. I was terrified. Thread pulled back and wiped my face.

"You can win, Silk. Stay on the down low. Find an ally. Do whatever it takes. Just come home to me, okay?" Thread asked. His brown eyes were full of honesty. He believed that I could win.

"I can't win. I can try, though. And I will, I promise," I whispered.

"I love you, Silk," Erna told me quietly. She didn't think I could win. I could tell.

They took them out, then. Our time together was up. I may never see my brother or sister or parents again. The thought terrified me, so I pushed it out of my head. I was taken to the train by Peacekeepers.

"So, Silk! Coda! Isn't this all too exciting?" Tulip went on and on about the people we'll meet. The food we'll taste. Sponsors.

"When do we see our mentors?" Coda cut in. Just then, a boy and a woman walked in.

"Well, there they are now!" Tulip said.

The woman looked me over. "How old are you?"

"Thirteen," I said in a small voice. This was Eonera Ride. She won the 68th Games when she was 17.

"And you?" The boy asked Coda.

"I'm 18."

Coda's mentor, Sebastian Cole, was only 17. He won three years ago. It wasn't often that a mentor was younger than the tribute.

"Okay," Eonera sighed. "Thirteen. I can try to work with that. Come on, Silk."

I stood and followed her, half running. She walked fast!

"This is your room." She opened a door to a bedroom that seemed larger than my entire house!

The bed had light blue, satin sheets. The walls were painted an off-white color, and a door in the opposite wall led to a bathroom. There was a small desk with a chair against one wall and a dresser against the other.

She plopped down on the edge of the bed, and motioned for me to sit. I pulled the chair out from the desk and sat facing her.

"What can you do, Silk?" She asked me.

"I'm not sure," I responded truthfully. "I'm a fast runner, I think. I'm not good at much else. I'm kind of clumsy."

"Okay... What are you bad at?"

"Like I said, I'm clumsy. I'm sensitive. I don't have a good pain threshold."

"That's not good," she muttered.

"I never said it was," I snapped.

She looked at me, scrutinizing my tone. She narrowed her eyes.

"You're gutsy. I like that."

I half-smiled, and she smiled back. "Let's go eat dinner."