It was a cold, miserable day. Well, it wasn't really cold or miserable, but that's what I felt like.
We were walking up to the centre of the square, where a temporary stage had been set up, and a whole group of peacekeepers had been called here, incase of an outburst.
I felt a hant curl around mine. It was Aiden.
"Are you worrying?" he questioned.
"No. We don't have any chance of being in. It's like, 1 in 4000." I said shortly. Inside I was scared though.
"Well, that's true. But... every time I feel like it's going to be me. Crazy, I know."
"You're crazy, baby."
I walked away and stood next to Scarlett. She was staring at Aiden.
"He's your boyfriend? Why didn't you tell me?"
I opened my mouth to speak when a lady, about 30 years old, said,
"Please could I have your attention? Thank you.
As you all know, it is time of the 58th Hunger Games. I am Melissa Trinket. I am quite famous, if you have heard of my baby, the miracle child Effie Trinket, you will know why.
Anyway, it is the time of the 58th Reaping. May the odds be ever in your favour.
The woman dipped her hand in a spherical glass orb. It contained thousands of tiny papers. She picked one out opened it and read it. I was fussing with my hair, because mother didn't do it right. She gave a huge smile, one that the cheshire cat could not compete with.
"Ronnie Mudds. Miss Ronnie Mudds, you are the lucky lady to be picked out from this bowl. Plase come up." she said.
I started my slow trudge to the stage, where Melissa was waiting, with that scarily white smile.
"Now the boys." she dipped her hand in again, and she brought out a random peice of paper.
"Owen March. Owen March, please step up."
Aiden yelled, "I voulenteer as tribute!"
If we are the last survivors, this will not end well. I could see Scarlett in tears, having her 2 best friends, going to fight ......