A Nightmare Come True

The Reaping Begins

Chapter 2 P.O.V. Annabeth

"Annabeth! Come quick, the reaping's about to start!" My mother yells excitedly.

Glumly, I walk down the plush carpeted stairs, and sit on our leather couch in the living room, next to my mom. I hear the Capitol anthem start to play, and I stand, as is required of all Capitol citizens. Their seal is flashed on our flat screen tv, and then district one's escort soon comes into view. Gosh, do I ever hate her. I hate all of them.

"Lady's first!" Her shrill voice pierces through our speakers as she reaches her hand into the big clear bowl, "Nicole Halmon" She says, reading the name inside the small envelope she picked.

A young girl, only twelve or thirteen walks up to the stage, a proud look on her face. "I volunteer as tribute" someone yells from the audience. Of course. Districts one, two, and four are usually career tributes, meaning they train all their life for the Hunger Games.

The boy picked is named Allen Cambourg. Next district two, then three, and so forth. I zone out sometime around district five.

I can't believe the government does this! Sending these innocent children into an arena to fight to the death, for people's entertainment. I, being twelve, would have my name in those evil bowls of death if I lived in a district. I hate being a part of the celebrations each year. I must be the only Capitol citizen who thinks like this.

I have never willingly been to a party, banquet, or any other type of celebration that has to do with the Hunger Games. Except for the tribute parade my mother drags me to every year. Their costumes are usually horrendous, furthering the embarrassment being a tribute brings.

The only tributes who actually willingly put their life on the line, in the small chance they will return victorious are usually arrogant and rude. I would say I hate them too, but it's not their fault because they were raised to be like that.

I snap out of my thoughts, and continue watching children getting torn away from their families and lives. Why can't the world be different?

P.O.V. Alexander

Beep! Beep! Beep! I look down at my watch, the reaping starts in five minutes! Yes! I can not wait! I love the Hunger Games, all those pathetic kids from the districts fighting in an arena to the death. Plus, there are all kinds of banquets, and other parties I get to attend since my father is the game maker.

I sit down on our plush couch, a bag of ketchup chips in my hand. My little sister, Jasmine, curling up beside me. Jasmine means the whole world to me, more then anything or anyone else I've ever known.

It's only us today, since my dad is running the games. I cant wait to see the new arena. Even though I am his son, I'm forbidden from seeing the arena ahead of time.

My mom died of a heart attack a few years ago. One day I left for school, only to come back to the news that I no longer have a mother. That was the worst day of my life, having the one person who takes care of me every day, who makes me feel welcome in the world, torn from my grasp.

My little sister doesn't remember much about my mom, Jasmine was to young when she died. Jasmine reminds me so much of her, and that might be why she means so much to me. I will never let anyone hurt her. I couldn't stand losing her, too.

I smile at my little duckling curled up beside me, "You ready to start The Games? I ask her.

She giggles and nods her head, her blue eyes sparkling, "Of course I am, silly!"

Each year we play a game where we pick which tribute we think will win, and what each of them are most likely to die from. We have many other little games we play throughout the Hunger Games, hence the name The Games we gave them. The loser has to do anything the winner wants for an entire day.

The Capitol anthem plays and we stand, as it is mandatory. The seal appears, and the reaping begins!