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Chapter 1
I had put off planning my strategy until now. I thought, since I'm going to die here, I shouldn't waste my thoughts thinking of it. So here I am, standing in the middle of a cold sheet of ice, staring into a gleaming, gold cornucopia, waiting for death. I feel awkward, standing here. After a week of torture and cruelty, I'm about to die.
Long ago when I was little, I had decided exactly how I wanted to die; happy. I wanted to be with my family, my parents and my siblings and my kids. I would be old, and my kids would hopefully had made it through the horrific reapings, and life would be good. But no. I will die in a cold terrain, either of hunger, coldness, or the most likely, murder. The worst of all; the whole nation of Panem would be witnessing my downfall. The people of the Capital; laughing and cheering.
Icy flurries of snow fall from the dark sky, hitting my jacket but affecting my body. I was already freezing and the games hadn't even officially started. I hear the gong. And I'm off. I run as fast as I can. I push through piles of snow on the ground. The snow was slowing me down. I begin to jump far, skipping over the snow. I feel bunches already clumped up in my boots.
I finally make it to the cornucopia. There's already a career, with long wavy black hair, tossing knifes around. This girl was my potential threat, for now. She turns around to me. White snowflakes are easily visible as they lay atop of her black hair. She smiles as she raises her arm, knife in hand, and aims for my skull. For some reason, shock took over me. It took me half a second to realize the knife was already about to hit me. Luckily, I move just in time, so the knife just flies past me. She's already reaching for another knife by the time I grab a nice backpack. I sling it around my shoulder and begin to retreat back to the wooded area. The career must've met someone better to kill.
The idea of woods in the middle of an ice cap seems odd, but the Gamemakers made this arena. They control everything here. They hold some of the tribute's lives in they're hands too. They put the woods in almost all of the arenas. Mostly because the games would be too boring, it's happened in the past.
I race through the dense trees as fast as I can. I almost run into a couple of trees, slip on ice patches, and trip over spare tree trunks. I get a decent way away when the plan hit me. It was genius. The careers would be looking for the other tributes far away. Not close to the cornucopia, where I will now be. I smirk at the idea. I take it slowly back now, careful not to make noises. I trace my steps and in an hour, I can see the cornucopia glimmer from afar. I decide a tree would be my best bet, so I grab onto a deep trough and began to ascend the tree.
By the time I reach the top, I realize how tired I am. I was already thirsty and hungry, because of all the en energy I used today. I nestle in the tree and use the time to reflect on the past week. First the reaping; I'll never forget when my name boomed through the speakers and I was chosen to compete. "Ebony Pierce" said the capitol lady with her crazy voice, clothes, and dark wig. I think her name was something like Irene. District 10, like all the others, looked at a weak 12 year old stumble up the stage quivering. It was a pity to them too. The chances of a 12 year old girl were one to nothing. I had no exceptions.
Saying good-bye was probably the hardest. Even my parents and family had a small allotted time to see me before I left to my death. My family and I were not the richest family in District 11, but not the poorest. We had survived hunger and had an income large enough to feed four kids and my parents. We would have had five children in our family, but he died at birth. It was sad my family would lose another child. We owned a store in town, we sold clothing and supplies to make it. It didn't pay much, but it paid enough.
