The 122nd Annual Hunger Games: The Anti-Careers

District 3 Reaping

III – Jade Klein

Hey Jade! Where are you?" called out my best friend, Sean. "It's almost time. Should we start heading over?"

I stuck my head out from a behind a tree trunk, scanning for Sean. Once I set my eyes on him, I left the tree and made my way to him, a genuine smile catching my face.

"C'mon, let's go. I want to get this over with."

I nodded and we walked together to the town square. After taking our blood and marking us in some giant, fancy book, we filed into our own sections, but before departing from Sean, I grabbed his hand and wouldn't let go, for some strange reason to me at the time.

"Jade, what's wrong?"

For a minute, I just stood there, not saying a word but staring deep into his eyes as I almost began to tremble with tears.

"Jade, you're gonna be fine," he said in attempt to reassure me. "I promise; you won't get picked."

"But what if I do?" I answered in a snap, biting my teeth down hard.

"You'll be fine. I promise. Once this is all over, we can go hangout at your place and just have a little fun, okay?" I believed him and softened my grip on his hand, followed by a hug that I didn't yearn to leave. "It'll be alright." We departed each other and readied ourselves for the reaping.

After ten minutes of waiting, District 3's escort for four years hopped onstage to draw the "lucky" winners.

"Hello, everyone! It's finally time to select our tributes!" she announced giddy and cheerful as she clapped her hands. "Ladies first!" she hollered as she practically jumped over to the girls' bowl. Gladly, she picked out a very special slip of paper and unfolded it gently.

I still somehow didn't trust there wasn't a good chance I'd be picked. My name was in the bowl fifteen times, five for being sixteen and two tesserae for each year. I then deemed I was overthinking it, as others had to have had their name in even more than mine; I couldn't be the only one.

"Our District 3 tribute for the 122nd Annual Hunger Games," she began. Just don't be me. Just don't be me. Just don't be me. Pretty please. "Is Jade Klein!"

I screamed inside my head, waiting for a volunteer that never happens in District 3. After two seconds, realizing it was my time to play the games, I marched forward, calm but terrified. My escort led me up, taking my hand to introduce me to the world.

"How old are you, Jade?" she asked curious.

I muttered my answer.

"What was that?" she asked again with a tiny laugh, not annoyed for a single second to keep up her jolly, cheery escort act.

"Sixteen," I said again, loud and clear that time.

"Wonderful!" she replied, as if me being sixteen was something special. "And now to pick a boy to join you in the games!"

"As she danced her way to the next reaping bowl, I looked in the crowd for Sean, my best friend who said I wouldn't be picked. All he could do was mouth words to me, I'm sorry. I then looked off to my parents on the left side who were hugging each other, already crying about their loss; I knew I was a goner too. I clenched my fists and gazed far behind the crowd at the village neighborhood I lived in, wondering-no-knowing I wouldn't return. The escort returned to my side where the microphone was and opened up the name for the boy.

"And for our boy," she began, looking back to the slip of paper and to the crowd repeatedly. "We have Ethan Ruff!"

Oh great, I thought. The boy from the orphanage.

"Come on up, dear!" she politely commanded.

The young boy, Ethan, made his way up to the stage with the rest of us after a few seconds of confusion and desperation. His dirt stained locks of hair dimmed the lighting onstage as he was welcomed up.

Ethan was ushered to the microphone where he announced in a gentle tone, "I'm thirteen."

"Ladies and gentlemen, your tributes from District 3, Jade Klein and Ethan Ruff!"

We were then shoved into the Justice Building behind us and the doors were shut, locking us out of District 3. I looked down to Ethan and he looked up to me, his raised eyebrows and drooping eyes burning worry in my mind.