The First Hunger Games

Chapter eight

I arrive home at 7:11 and find Mum, red eyed and red cheeked stirring something on the stove. She smiles half heartedly when she sees me and continues stirring. I find Kate curled up on the sofa, her thumb in her mouth and her eyes are pink from crying. Kate must've told Mum. At first I feel anger and pain but then I feel relief. We can't keep hiding Mum from the truth. she has to know.

'Four days, eh?" Mum sadly husks. "Yeah" I whisper, the pain seeping back.

"We'll get through. It is very very unlikely that you two will be selected."

"Yes. "

"We mustn't talk and think about it too much because if one of you two are picked we might as well not worry and use the time we have together."

"Yeah. "

I retire to my room for half the day, mostly sleeping, sometimes listening to the soothing sounds of out working district- trucks and other vehicles grinding along the long, gravel roads. The chatter of birds in the trees.

I wake up at seven two days later. Mum is happy that I've had my fair amount of sleep and that I'm well and truly rested up. but I'm worried and scared sick of what the next day will bring. The loss of a family member? The death of a friend?

We plough through the day, not mentioning the games but we could all tell that it wouldn't leave anyone's mind. Kate found me in the woods, collecting flowers for us to sell and just started crying into my jumper. Seeing the sloppy tears pouring down her face and the pain she must be feeling practically ripped my heart out. A snippet of a twelve year old shouldn't have to go through this.

Mum, Kate and I got into bed alertly at 7 pm but I doubt any of us got to sleep til about one am.