𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 ☘︎ 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ☘︎ 2

The walk to the square was quite a long one, for the seam lay about a mile from it. I held Prim's hand as we blended into the mass of people heading towards the town.

When we got in sight of the reaping, I remembered something that I forgot to tell Prim. And she saw it before I could hide all b it.

I pull her to the side as she begins to hyperventilate. "It's okay, it's okay," I try to calm her down. "They're gonna prick your finger just to take a little bit of blood, okay?"

That's how they register everyone.

"You didn't say-" Prim begins.

"I know, I know, it doesn't hurt much, okay?" I reassure. "Go and wait over there with the others, okay? Katniss or I'll meet you after."

She nods and I walk to where the fifteen year olds stand. I'm eventually near the front of it where the registrators tell me "hand".

I thrust my left hand out and allow them to prick it with a needle, then print it on paper. When they scan it, the scanner reads Hawthorne, Willow.

I head off to where the fifteen year old girls are supposed to stand. Realising that I'm one of the last people to get there, I turn my head to the Justice Building, the grand stage that every District has as its centre.

Effie Trinket (who we were mimicking earlier) seems to have outdone herself this time as she steps out into the stage. She's in a silly pink frilly dress, and some stiletto high heels, tottering about. She also has a bright pink frilly wig on, and a very odd face of makeup. This is what the Capitol dress sense is.

She taps the microphone. "Welcome! Welcome, welcome!"

Between where she's standing there are two bowls with thousands of slips of paper in them. One for girls and one for boys. I shudder to think of the two slips that will be being pulled from each of them. Even worse to think that it could be me. Or Gale. Or Rory. Or Katniss. Or Prim.

"Happy Hunger games!" She shouts into the mic. "And may the odds be ever in your favour! Now, before we begin, we have a very special film, brought to you all the way from the Capitol!"

I roll my eyes surreptitiously. I know what they're about to play. It's the same stupid film they play each year.

It begins with a series of short cuts from the dark days, when the Districts rebelled against the Capitol. Then the narration starts. "War. Terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the Capitol that-"

And that's another thing. Thriteen districts went in. Twelve came out. District Thirteen was obliterated, buried under miles of rubble, rock, dust and nuclear waste. District Twelve is the highest number now.

"Brother turned on brother until nothing remained," I tuned back into the film. "Then came the peace. People rose up from the ashes and built out own world. But freedom, however, comes at a price. As a nation, we swore we would never see this treason again. So it was decreed that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up, in tribute, one boy and one girl, to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice. The lone Victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and forgiveness. This is how we remember our past, this is how we safeguard our future."

"I just love that!" Effie Trinket exclaims as the screen goes blank again. I turn behind me to look at Katniss, who is also looking at me. One thing between us is clear. Prim can't be called.

Effie and her pink head then go on. "Now, the time has come for us to select one courageous man and woman, for the honour of representing District Twelve in the seventy fourth annual Hunger Games! As always, Ladies first."