Battle Scars

Chapter 3: Independent

Chapter three: Independent
To ensure that every person in the country gets to see the unfortunate teenagers being chosen, large screens were set up in the square of each main city, which connected to the cameras that record the city, or cities, where the teenagers are located. My mother drove Emily and I into Perth, where I would have to register for the choosing. Emily held my hand tightly all the way to the city. No words were needed for us to understand the feelings of the other. She and I both knew that, as small as the odds were, the chance was there that I would not be present in the car ride home, and that Em and my Mother would ride alone.
I hugged my mother a tight goodbye as she headed to wait with the other adults and young children.
"You're safe, remember that," she said. "Even if you're not with your family, you are safe with yourself. I know you can look after yourself, and so do you. You're independent, you're a Hernandez. Stay strong." I nodded wordlessly, and kissed her cheek.
"I'll be safe, mum. I love you."
"I love you too."
She disappeared into the crowd, leaving Emily and I together. Emily could have left, but she wanted to wait with me until the time of the choosing. We stood together, surrounded by crowds of people, yet feeling alone since we knew so few of them. The Perth gathering was a very large one.
"Attention citizens, would all people move to their appropriate sectors, thank you."
Em turned to me, and took both my hands.
"Abby, promise me, whatever happens, you'll keep me in your heart."
"I promise," I stated. She hugged me tightly, and then suddenly she was gone, and I was left to follow the masses of teenagers who walked like sheep through the gates to the front of the stage.

A stupid looking official from The Soviet, looking very out of place in her party worthy attire, mounted the stage, her high heels clicking on the polished surface. The thing about The Soviets is that most of them are under the impression that we love the celebrations as much as they do. Our city's official, Blanche Trifle, was no exception to the rule.
There was something dampening about the official's manner. As I listened in nervous boredom to her words about how wonderful the celebrations are, her excitement at a new and final custom being instituted only seemed to make everybody duller. The rather dim witted Blanche finally realised this, and hastily moved along the proceedings.
"And now," she bubbled excitedly, "we come to the announcement of the fourth, and final celebratory custom. Drrrrum rrrroll!" The drrrums rrrolled, although they had less of an effect on their audience than Blanche's French 'R's.
"The new celebratory custom is The Hunger Games!"
I didn't need to listen to the details provided by Blanche's high pitched voice to know what the Hunger Games were. I'd read the books The Soviet provided in school, so I knew exactly how it would pan out. The final horror had been unleashed upon the world, and it was worse than all three of the previous horrors put together. Fear took a grip of me, and I knew in that instant that I would be chosen. Somehow, our family had escaped the horrors so far, when so many others were smitten. I knew it was our turn to sacrifice. And the only option was me.
I dismissed the fear with a mental wave. I was one in over a million teenagers in Australia, that's a one in a million chance. The odds were too great. Hopefully.
Blanche droned on and on about the Hunger Games rules. I knew they would be explained again when we were forced to watch proceedings on TV, so I didn't bother to pay much attention. When she finally came to the announcing of the tributes, I was more than ready to go home.

Then the hovercraft appeared, and we could see our city on the screen before us. A gasp of horror arose from the audience - someone maybe even two people from this city would soon be taken in that machine to their death.
Blanche announced the male first - he was a guy around my age named Aidan, a boy whom I had seen around in school but had never come across him anywhere else. His face was completely expressionless as he made his way onto the stage and was congratulated by the over effusive Blanche. Then the female was announced.

You all know who it was. The point of my story is my experiences in the Hunger Games. As I made my way onto the stage, Blanche greeted me with even more enthusiasm than with which she had greeted Aidan.
"This is soooo exciting!" She gushed. "Our first ever tributes for the ultimate celebrations, Aidan Bailye and Abby Hernandez. They both look like winners, so strong, don't you think?" I contained my glare at her scrutinising expression, and forced my emotions down. On a stage in front of my country was no time to break down. I knew that if I could stay strong through this, I would inspire my fellow countrymen to hold out a hope that one day this pain would end. That one day, there would be a way out.