The 139th Hunger Games

Chapter 12: Winston and Holly

                                                                     Winston

I woke up and headed to the small boxes that served as my table. Since I was an orphan who was too young to work in the mines, I made my living with scavenging. Some copper coins I had found on the side of the road had bought a crust of stale bread from the bakery.

I was so tired of this life, having to spend hours to scavenge only to find barely enough food. If the only way to escape was to go into the Games, even if it meant a week of luxury then certain death, so be it. I had been longing to escape for ages.

In the Reaping, I sat and waited. Would there be any volunteers? Of course there wouldn't, I thought, no one was as foolish as me. And so what if I was foolish? I had made my choice. A girl, named Holly, was reaped. She was a merchant. I could tell from her blonde hair and blue eyes. She was very pretty. I was surprised that I was noticing her. I had never liked a girl before, and this was the worst possible time for all of this.

It was time for the names to be called. In that instant, I knew I wouldn't volunteer. I would not let myself enter a fight to the death with Holly. The name was picked, and it was mine. I was saddned but not surprised. After all, I did have a lot of tesserae. So I walked up the stage, wishing things could have been different.

                                                                            Holly

Most people would be nervous on their first Reaping, but not me. My elder sister had promised to volunteer for me if I were ever Reaped, and my family was rich, so we never had to worry about tessarae.

I arranged my hair and wore a pretty yellow dress as I headed downstairs. Holding my younger sister's arm, we headed to the City Square. I took my place, as the announcer, Deana Trinket, read the dull Treaty.

Finally, it was time for the names to be picked. She pulled out a name, and it was me. How was that possible? I had one slip in thousands! I looked at my sister expectantly, and she opened her mouth to speak, only to close it and give me an apologetic glance. Then, she looked down, as if shamefully.

I knew I had to come up. To face my death. There was no one to save me. My life in District 12, although not completely pleasant, flashed before my eyes and I was there, wishing I could have more time, as I walked to my grave.