The Bowl

25 2 1
                                    

That bowl. That one bowl, with tiny slips of paper inside. Who knew something as simple as that could be deadly? That it could rip apart families, relationships, and could take lives? Some may not figure something out like this until they are an adult. I have known since I was a toddler. My whole life has been spent fearing that bowl. And what would come out of it. There were names in those bowls. Names of every person you loved and cared about. No matter how young you were. No matter how old you were. Anyone could suffer. Anyone could lose the ones they love. I never knew what exactly happened to the people chosen from the bowl. They would disappear. I would be scared, yet I had no idea why.
One day someone very dear to me went away. I feared for her, because I had noticed that nobody who left ever came back. I stupidly thought that maybe someday she would come back. I waited for months. For that time I was not allowed by my family to use the television. I didn't know why. I was very upset, because that was usually what I spent my time using. I would go to school and spend my day thinking, when will she be back? Long story short, she never did come back. She was gone forever. I did not know until someone else I loved left me. A week or so after he found out my mother had died in the Hunger Games, my father ended his own life. I did not realize until many years later why he did that.
He was too upset, and he was already a single father of only 21 trying to care for one 1 year-old and one 4 year-old. He had fallen in love with my mother when he was just 12, and she was 10. Some years later they got married. They had children for this very reason: in case one of them was to be sent into the Hunger Games. They were at the end of the line. They had made it through without being chosen. They were still very young, and caring for us was very hard at such a young age, even with the support of their parents. Then my mother was chosen. Then my father left us to go to what my brother ensured me was a "better place". He left us behind. She left because the others let her. I heard that Katniss volunteered for her sister when she was chosen to go into the Hunger Games. What did my aunt do when my mother was chosen? She stood back and watched. Once I found this out, I vowed never to speak to her. I know this is harsh, but my aunt is the type of person that you wouldn't be surprised if they won the Hunger Games. She is very strong and intelligent. My mother was small. This is why you can never trust anyone, not even your family.
My brother has earned my trust. He became the father I never had. Once I turned the age of 8, he began to teach me everything he learned in school about chopping wood. Just in case. He taught me everything there was to know about axes and knives. He said I could use these skills. Nobody was suspicious, because District 7 chops wood. The women are supposed to know some tactics about using these tools in case the men in our household are sick, or are just unable to complete their work. Most of the wood my brother chops is sold to the markets to buy us food. Some of it is used to warm us.
Many other things happened during my life, but none of which are very important. But one thing I learned from Brian stuck with me for some reason. The Jabberjays. Jabberjays are birds created by the Capital to repeat any sound it hears. If it hears someone's voice, it can repeat it perfectly. Katniss, when she got selected to go into the Hunger Games again, heard them taunting her with the sounds of her sister's voice yelling to her for help. I wished on my tenth birthday that I would one day hear a Jabberjay, though they can be tormenting, just to hear what they can do.
Two years later, I finally stopped thinking of the Hunger Games day and night. Then the thoughts came back to me for one reason: I can now be chosen to go into the Hunger Games.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jan 11, 2017 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

The JabberjayWhere stories live. Discover now