The 29th Hunger Games

District 7: Amelia Mines

I did not want to get up today. It is the reaping of the 29th Hunger Games.

I spent last night contemplating the possibilities of actually being reaped. Its been a few years since District 7 won. I remember the last one,a little runt of a boy,but witty and handsome enough to win a hell number of sponsors. I somehow manage getting up. No one out to wish me good morning or good luck,like they did when I first entered reaping at the age of twelve. But that was 4 years ago. I'm pretty sure my parents are with Tim, who is entering for the reaping for the first time.

I brush my teeth almost lethargically. I take a bath and just imagine sitting there forever, with warm water running down my neck and racing across my body.
But I had to go. I steeped out, the air cold around my body which is not covered by the towel. My reaping clothes- a green and brown checked skirt with a matching blouse along with a hair ribbon-are kept on my bed. I sigh. The green and brown clothes signify wood and lumber from District 7. As though I did not have scars from handling that heavy axe for nine years that I had to be reminded what my district deals in.

I get dressed and step out in the small corridor of the second floor of my house, where my room is located. My elder brother comes out of his room,straitening his collar. His room is just opposite mine. He stops in his step when he sees me and smiles.
"So,nervous, Mia?" he teases me. I smile at him.
"Not really,no," I answer. "But it's simpler for you, this being your last year and all."
"Yes,the benefits of being a full-time lumberjack." He ruffles my hair. I had an excellent relationship with Ben. It's Tim I have a problem with. And one of the reasons I'm great with Ben is that we both agree Tim's a brat and deserves to face the sharp edge of the axe at least once.
"At least we are not up tesserae," Ben says. "The odds are that we would not get picked." I agree. But some of my friend are. What if they get picked?

We both go downstairs,where Mommy and Daddy were cuddling poor, baby Tim, telling him how brave he is and how he won't get reaped. My younger sister, Blair, who is a year older than Tim,rolls her eyes behind Mom's back.

Breakfast is a simple fair - milk and pancakes, on a wooden table(figures!)- and we finish with time to spare.

My mother combs my dark hair into a bun and does the same with Blair's blonde hair. I look at my mother. I inherit her hair and her eyes.

We walk towards the square, Tim clinging my mother's arm,whimpering. I admit, I am worried about him as well. I do not want Tim or Blair to get reaped. Ben and I made a pact. If Blair is reaped, I will volunteer for her and if Tim is, Ben will.

We all gather in the square where boys and girls between the age of twelve to eighteen were assembling. The sun is blazing hot and that's the only thing that runs through my mind. The families were standing around us.

Everything there is or related to lumber. The podium and stage is made of wood. The houses in our district are made of wood as well. I wish they could just go back to their axes and jobs and leave us alone.

Before going,my mother kissed Tim and Blair on their foreheads and gave an approving nod to me and Ben. Our parents are aware of our pact. In fact,everyone is,except the kids.

Our father hugged us all before going over to stand with my mother. Before going, he says,"Look,don't worry. We'll see you soon." That simply. As though we did not even enter the reaping. Before we go to stand with our respective age groups, Ben grabs my hand and says,"Remember the deal."
He nods towards Blair, standing with her friends, her blonde hair shining and Tim shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his brown hair long and lanky. How are those two even related? I swallow and nod my head in Ben's direction and he lets go of my hand.

We stand with the other kids. I stare at the reaping bowls. In the girls' bowl, five slips of paper have Amelia Mines written on them and two slips have Blair Mines. In the boys,seven slips have Benjamin Mines and one lone slip has Timothy Mines.
The stage on which the reaping bowls are kept has six chairs. One for the mayor - his son is in his last year of reaping - four for the victors and one for our very own district escort, Matia. She is just like one of those freakshows of the Capitol,with green wig and silver eyes and red tattoos of butterflies. Capitol looks like some sort of hellhole with these asses, like Matia,representing it in our almost - normal world.

The procedure is the same every year. The cameras,the reaping, the bowls, everything is the same. That little runty victor,Danny, has now grown up to be a couple of years older than Ben.
Like every year,the mayor reads the treaty. About the Dark Days,when the districts rebelled and lost against the Capitol. The Capitol started the Hunger Games to remind us how utterly we are under their thumb. In the Games,every district is supposed to send a male and female tribute between the age of twelve and eighteen and these tributes fight in one standing wins.
And like every year,Matia,with her green wig and butterfly tattoos will flutter in front of the stage and in that affected,dumb,Capitol accent would wish us in a breathy,"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor. "
Just like evey year, Matia would pick a girl's name and a boy's name,who would represent is in the Games. The district will rejoice over the fact them at their kids weren't reaped, but two of the houses would pull their shutters down and mourn over the fact that their kids may not come back. Like every year,we would get back one or both our tributes back in boxes.

The only thing that doesn't happen every year is that the name Matia picks out from the girls' bowl is Amelia Mines.