Interactive Hunger Games 5

The Reaping

(Side Note: Your tribute may not be in every chapter. That's so this book doesn't take 6 years to make and 6 years to read.)

- C O L T - C O R Y -

My alarm goes off, and I nearly launch out of bed. My arm swipes towards the clock, but in my disorientation I end up knocking it off the nightstand. It clatters to the ground, and the little cover for the digital screen shatters in little bits of plastic.

I grumble something unintelligible as my feet hit the floor and I get dressed. District One was beautiful in the morning, with the sunrises piercing the mountains that surrounded our town. My family lives in a mountainside chalet, and I had an amazing view.

The bad part was that we were always the first ones reaped. It was as early as 6 in the morning, so it didn't give us much sleeping time. My heart was pounding, but my body still felt numb.

"Breakfast!" I hear from my dad in the kitchen, and I push my door open to walk out. My feet send creeks through the hardwood floor. I walk down the stairs, seeing all of my family there. My Mom, Dad, and sister.

I sit down and grab a plate of exquisite Belgian waffles. They were straight from the Capitol, as we never imported food from the other Districts. Some did, but I preferred to be sanitary and decent.

"So then." My father says. "You're going to the Games?"

"I am." I state casually. I can see my Mom's familiar look of despair as I mention volunteering.

"You don't have to." My mother says. "You know one of your friends will take the spot anyways."

"No, he's been training for this his whole life." My dad says. He was right.

"Look, I'll think about it." I say, and my mother seems to breath a sigh of relief. My dad huffs and leaves the room.

"No matter what you do at that reaping," My mother begins. "You've already made me more proud then I could've dreamed of."

...

"Let's begin with the boys." The announcer begins, reaching her long nailed fingers into the glass bowl. There were names piled on heavy in that bowl, slips of paper everywhere.

She fishes one out and reads it aloud. "Turner Trosy." She declares.

"I volunteer!" I declare, my voice radiating around the room. I see my classmates and squad members break into applause, and I walk up the aisle. The whole way, I have a confident grin on my face. I must've looked like a superstar.

The truth was, I was the only one who could pull off what needed to be done this year. The past Careers had grown weak and fractured, and District One hadn't had a winner since the 89th Games. We needed a strong leader, and that person would be myself.

I get onto the stage, seeing the whole crowd as she draws the female name. My mom was crying, whether it be tears of joy or something else. My dad was still clapping, with a huge smile on his face. He was impressed, which was rare to see.

"Bonita Krusov." I hear from the announcer, and I wait for the volunteer name to sound.

"I volunteer!" I hear from the crowd, but not who I expect. It wasn't my squad member. I look as a twelve year old strides down the aisle, a look of nervousness and confidence haphazardly mixed on her face.