A huge, desolate wasteland spread before us and dark, smoky clouds loomed above us in the murky sky like a massive fluttering clouds of bats. It would rain tonight. Sensing the approaching storm, the families huddled together covered in filth and surrounded by clouds of billowing dust, they waited. And waited.

 It is hard to believe we are, were, all rich and well off, and happy as we sit like lemons watching the sun rise and fall waiting for a miracle. We see huge pictures projected onto the sky of the triumphant district parades, the falling of our empire and the execution of President Snow, my Grandfather. Oh well. I never really liked him. After all, it's his entire fault.  And so the families wait, wide eyed and terrified, wait for something they never thought they could see. A reaping of the capitol.

 My name is Velvet.

 I am twelve years old.

 This is my story...