Tribute

Reaping

There were four victors for district 11. I always had bad luck. When I got chosen for the Hunger Games, when no one volunteered for me, when Rue died, and now. But 4? That was worse than I thought. But there was always hope, right? No... hope was stupid at this point. Better to face reality I always thought. Don't sugarcoat anything. Especially the odds.

   A woman in a ridiculously fancy dress came onto the stage. It was silver, and frilly, with a big purple collar. It was awful. If I wasn't sure I was being sent to my death, I might have laughed. But I couldn't. There was another girl next to me. She was older than me, and I recognized her. Her name was Clover Heaventhorne, and she had taught me a lot of what I know about gardening. She was shaking. The glass bowl with our names in it was next to her. On the other side were two boys, one I didn't know, and Carson, who I already knew. Carson was a jerk who was full of himself. Not much more to say. The woman in the strange dress introduced herself as Beade Riverscape, and started a short (thank god) speech about the Games. Finally, she said,
"As usual, ladies first."
She walked over to our side. I held my breath as she reached into to bowl and picked an envelope. Walking back to the microphone, she opened it.
"Chelsea 'Cricket' Lorikeet."
"No." I said, under my breath. I felt silent tears pour down my face. The crowd was silent as I walked towards Beade. I tried to find Fletcher in the crowd.
"And now, for the boys."
She picked another envelope and read it.
"Bran Commonstride"
The younger looking boy walked to the other side of Beade and was shaking. I looked back to the crowd and found my brother, and he mouthed "mocking jay."
Then the peacekeepers took us away.