Just a Game

The 72th Hunger Games. It's definitively not happy. But may the odds be ever in your favour. I'm an only child, my parents are poor. We have nothing, but each other. But that's all I needed, that's all I wanted. But... But now, I'll disappear from existence and memory. Let the Games Begin.

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1. Yet Another Reaping

The Reaping. The one event in Panem that pierces fear into everyone hearts, both children and adults. Here, in district 9, we may hunt for our lives, but we are no fighters. We are people who know nothing but how to kill creatures of evil intentions, not our own kind. No-one volunteers, so we are all screwed. I'm sixteen, three members in my family and obviously I signed for the Tessera. So in The Reaping today, my name will be in there for 20 times. The odds have never been in my favour, not just in The Hunger Games, but in life in general. It's complicated, and hard to think about without wanting to cry my eyes out.

 

I registered, and now I stood there, amongst so many others who would all be under a careful eye. But after The Reaping, we would be free to live in fear for another year. Unless this was our final year, but this isn't, I have to endure this for another two years after this. That's if my name hasn't been pulled from the bowl. I thought back to the forest, where I would spend hours and hours listening to Nature sing her lullaby. And on some days, take my weapons out there, and hunt the little amount of animals I find. Images of the trees and greenery faded, and all I could see was blood bleeding into the cold colourless ground, like a dot of ink. Dead bodies flashed in my eyes, their pain reflected in their eyes. Their longing to return home screaming from the last breath of air they breathe into this cruel world.

 

My mind started to think about everything, burning through information. Analysing my options. While seeing images from my mind and thinking about everything and everything the names have already been drawn. The escort of the tributes stood there, a boy about my age on one side. And a girl much younger, probably only twelve, on the other side. Even from this distance, I could see her body quivering in fear, and see droplets swim down her cheeks. Her small, bony face didn't look up. She stared down to the floor, trying to escape the nightmare. It was then I had a sensation of pain for her, not wanting to see her die, she had no chance. A feeling of ambition join the sensation.

 

The escort leant forward to the microphone, and before they spoke. I screamed out. Not even sure why I did, but there was no going back. Everyone stared at me. The escort looked confused, but then smiled a croaked pure white smile which I will never forget. He proudly held out his hand towards me and said
"We have a volunteer!"

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