Chapter Text
Morning came, a day no one was looking forward to. Reaping Day. The day where two tributes from each district were reaped to play in a game of life or death. District Twelve only had one victor. My sister Violet. She won the Sixty Eighth Games, I hadn’t seen her since. She had moved to Victor’s Village becoming an alcoholic, pushing us all away. The games did that to you, mentally damaging you in ways that messed with your head. Most victors coped with substance abuse; like Vi. Each year she was forced to mentor the two tributes from District Twelve so they could potentially win and come out as victors. But District 12 never came out a winner.
I got dressed in my outfit for the reaping day. You were forced to dress somewhat nice or it would seem disrespectful no matter how poor you were. This year was the 74th Hunger Games. My blue hair was in its two braids, I wore the nicest clothes I owned: a black dress and an old leather jacket that used to belong to my father. I lived with my mother Felicia and my mute sister Isha. My dad Connol had blown up and died in a mine accident when I was younger. I remember hearing the news clear as day. Now my mother rarely talks because of depression. The house is always silent with Isha being mute and my mom rarely speaking. I didn’t like the quiet. Never did.
The winner of last year’s games was a tribute with a name I don’t remember. I didn’t like the thought of being reaped. I had a family and a life to live. In the richer districts like One and Two they illegally trained their tributes so they could have a chance at winning. The Hunger Games was something almost everyone wanted to walk out a victor. The youngest tribute ever was a boy named Jayce Talis. He won the 65th games at fourteen. After that he was forced to be a prostitute for the people of the Capitol. That was something I never wanted to go through. I would rather die than be sold to the Capitol for their entertainment.
The Hunger Games were broadcast all across the country of Panem. District Twelve was so poor we only got powder for a few hours, but when it was on it only played stuff from the Capitol. No one watched that.
After pulling my jacket on I walked out of my little room and looked at Isha, smiling. Today was her first chance of being reaped, she was only twelve. Despite the fact she couldn’t talk I could see in her eyes she was just as scared as I was; maybe even more.
“It’s okay little duck,” I reassured her fixing her blouse that had become untucked, “there is a very little chance you’ll be picked.”
She nodded at me and smiled.