The 67th Hunger Games

Chapter 1 - Life in District 7, part 1

Chapter 1 - Life in District 7

Part 1:

Even though I know we don't live under the ideal circumstances I must admit; life in District 7 isn't half bad. In all my 14 years in this district, I've never experienced any severe hunger, though food can be tight at the end of the month, and because we're far from being the poorest district in Panem (though we are even further from being the richest) we can afford a reasonable life standard with just enough money to get everyone well through each passing day. Heck, my family even puts a bit aside for birthday presents for me and my siblings, just like many other families do, and therefore I won't complain.

In school we've learned a bit about the other districts and everyone knows that life in districts as 11 and 12 is much harder than ours. We've even been told that many people in District 12 dies from starvation simply because they can't afford food. It's not a part of our Capitol-provided learning material, but our teachers have told us so. I don't know where they know such things from but I'm not surprised. When you see the tributes from District 12 at the opening ceremony for each Hunger Games they're almost always very thin. Not like the tributes form District 1, 2 and 4 who are not only well fed but have also been training for years ad careers so they can win the Hunger Games and bring glory to their families and, most important, to their districts.

Now where I'm already on it, there's really only one thing that I think is worth complaining about. One thing that can really ruin everything from me, and that is the Hunger Games.

We're not a career district. We have had a few winners, but no one ever expect the tributes from District 7 to win. We're often placed somewhere in the middle; we don't die first and we don't die last. I'm actually quite surprised how well our tributes, especially the boys, often do in the bloodbath by the Cornucopia at the beginning of each Hunger Games. I guess it's because people from our district is often psychically strong, due to years of working with trees and lumber. The boys in our district has wide shoulders and I often see how they push their way through the other tributes to get to a weapon, food or a backpack filled with stuff. But it goes down the hill from there. Our tributes know how to climb trees, they can make fire and, again, they are strong, but it doesn't really help them in the Games. Surely they can cook their food and they don't freeze to death in the night because they can make a fire. The stupidity of lighting a fire in the night has killed quite a few though, but as I said; we aren't to first to die, neither the last. Usually. There is always exceptions, of course. As last year when our male tribute was a 12 year old boy. He was so confused and scared, you could see it in his eyes. He died in the bloodbath. He did the right thing though, he tried to run away. We wouldn't go for any of the supplies because he knew he wouldn't make it if he ran in to any of the other tributes. But as he ran away from the Cornucopia, a career tribute ran up beside him. You didn't even have the time to blink before the sword had slid his throat from the back and the boy fell lifeless into the grass and you could hear the sound of the canon. He ran as fast as his small legs would allow him to but it still wasn't enough. And that's just a part of the Game. The Game which I hate with all my passion.

How can't you hate the Hunger Games? I've seen so many people die throughout my life. 299 children, to be exact. Admittedly I can't remember the first many, many Hunger Games, since I was only a baby. But it doesn't change the fact that just under 300 young boys and girls have been slaughtered in the Games since I was born. 23 people every year for the last 13 years. And in a less than a month I can add additionally 23 people to the list, making the total 322.

Even though 299 is quite a high number, it's actually not what's bother me the most. What's bothers me the most is the few people that died who actually meant a lot to me.

Last year, the same year as the 12-year old boy was killed in the bloodbath, my best friend's sister died. I know she wasn't technically my friend, but it still hurt a lot. I've been to their house so many times. Whenever I was bored or my siblings would annoy be, whenever I felt like talking to someone I knew would understand, I would go over to Tira and usually her sister, Dalia, would be there too. I've seen Dalia at least two times a week for as long as I can remember and she's such a kind human being, always taking care of Tira and their younger brother. And I cried hard when Dalia tripped while running from another tribute. Dalia was in a fight with two tributes from District 10 and ended up with killing the female tribute by smashing her head really hard against a tree. It was weird to see sweet, kind Dalia do such things but I like to think that her plan actually was only to knock the girl out and leave her unconscious, but it didn't go that way. In shock Dalia ran away but the male District 10-tribute was so angry that he followed her. Dalia stumbled on some pebbles as she tried to cross a stream and fell, head first, into the water. The guy from 10 took advantage of the situation and jumped at Dalia, standing on her back and kept her head under water until she drowned. It was horrible to watch, but it was even more horrible to see what it did to Tira. When Dalia went in to the arena, both Tira and I knew she probably wouldn't win. The Capitol were cheering for the two tributes from one and the guy from 10 who was strong, angry, brutal and merciless. He came in second. But even if you know your best friend sister will die in the arena, you still hope she'll make it. That she'll outsmart everyone and become the victor. And even if she won't you hope that she at least will die in a peaceful, painless way. Which she didn't.

Tira has never really been herself since. It has left her angry and sad and with a great hatred to the Capitol. I mean, everybody hates the Capitol, but Tira really hates it. You can't blame her, really. It also left her afraid of water, so I always joke with her and say, that she shall be glad she wasn't born in District 4. It cheers her up a bit but I know that there isn't anything anyone can say, that would make Tira truly happy again. You can't really blame her for that, either.

I also remember when my oldest brother, Luke, lost his friend in the 63th Hunger Games. That's four years ago. As I recall the death wasn't that spectacular or brutal. I actually can't remember if they showed it on TV or not. He suffered from the disadvantage of being the son of a paper maker instead of a lumber so his psychical strength and combat skills were almost non-existent. I would even say that Dalia had a better shot for winning than my brother's friend. But it still doesn't change the fact that it was really hard for my brother. I think it's so fair that my brother cried when his friend's face was showed at the arena sky. I actually think it's the first time in my life I've seen Luke cry. He's always been known as the 'though one' in our family. I keep imagine how he must feel like. It would be like if I lost Tira and that would be devastating, because I love her. Every year at the reaping I'm not just praying for not getting picked; I also pray that they won't pick Tira. I wouldn't be able to stand watching her get drowned as I watched her sister drown.

And then there was my aunt and uncle who both died during the Second Quarter Quell. In case you don't know, then the Capitol alters the rules at every Quarter Quell, or every 25th Hunger Games, to make the Game 'extra exciting'. In the second Quarter Quell there weren't 24 tributes as usual, but 48; four from every district. My mother's little sister got picked and my farther's little brother got picked. She was 18, he was 17, my mother was 24 and my dad was 25 at the reaping. My aunt was killed in the bloodbath, my uncle was killed by the erupting volcano.

I, of course, can't remember this year's Game, since I wasn't born at that point. Luke was Three at the point and my mother had just given birth to my other big brother, Joseph, not long before. So the Hunger Games haven't only had a great influence on me, but it has also had a significantly effect on my family. It's the Hunger Games fault that I don't have any cousins.

Since our family many times hve been shaken by these horrible events, we use every Hunger Games to memorize all the great people who've lost their life in battle, and we use the time with our family the best we can. The Hunger Games reminds us to appreciate the time we have had together and how great our family, our friends and, even under these circumstances, our lives are.