Don't Play Games

1

Sunlight pours in through the cracked window in my tiny cottage on the outskirts of district 7. I hear the soft clinks of pots and pans in the kitchen. Maple, my older sister, must be making breakfast. She turned 19 almost a month ago. I turned 13 last week, June 27th. That reminds me - today is Reaping Day. And I'm eligible.

I sit up and swing my legs over the side of my bed. My bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. I quietly slip into the kitchen.

"Hey Maple." I say.

"Hey." She replies.

"So... whatcha makin'?"

"Waffles." Her tone is unmistakably plain. She's hiding her feelings from me. Wouldn't be the first time.

"Oh, thanks." Waffles are my favorite food, but to us, it's a luxury we can almost never afford.

Silence sits in the kitchen for a few minutes.

"What's up?" I finally ask.

"Nothing."

"There's something, Maple. There's always something when you say there's nothing."

She sighs. Her voice is shaking. "I found out who killed dad."

My breath catches short. "W-who?"

She puts her head in her hands. "Birch." Her ex boyfriend. Oh no.

Dad was killed by a thrown ax about a year ago, shortly after Maple broke up with Birch for another boy, the mayor's son, Jake. He was injured and broke up with Maple for this reason.

Our mom died shortly after giving birth to me. A year ago, we were left parentless, with both of us eligible for the Games. It was worse on Maple, since it was her ex's that were involved.

"I-I'm so sorry, Maple." Tears slip down her cheeks relentlessly. "I'll finish the waffles, if you want."

She shakes her head and stands, and goes back to the stove to make me waffles.

"While you do that, I'm going to pick out a nice outfit." I call to her, heading to my room. I hear her mutter a response.

I rummage through my drawers and finally find something decent to wear - a faded yellow dress that barely reaches my knees because its one size too small. This probably belonged to Maple. I struggle the zip up the back of the dress, but eventually the zipper stops at the back of my neck.

I walk to the small bathroom to do my hair. The mirror is cracked, so the image of my face is slightly distorted. I grab the brush Maple and I share and brush out my long, wavy brown locks. When I'm finished, my once messy and matted hair falls down smoothly to my mid-back.

I stare at myself in the mirror. Hazel eyes stare back, wide and frightened. I didn't even realize I was so nervous for today. I'm only 13, odds are I won't be chosen.

But it isn't impossible...

I turn my eyes away from my reflection and look for my toothbrush. I find it eventually, and soak the worn bristles in the cold water from the tap. I brush my teeth and glance at myself again.

There's at knock at the bathroom door. "Hazel? Are you finished yet?" I hear Maple call.

"Almost!" I call back.

I look at myself again. Hazel eyes, the ones I was named for, look back, and I'm finally satisfied at my looks. I open the bathroom door and let Maple inside.

"You look beautiful." She says, before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door before I can mutter a thank you in return.

I sit at the kitchen table and sigh. My nerves are killing me. I wish I didn't have to do this. I wish I was still a young kid so I didn't have to worry about the Games. But I can't reverse time.