The career

Chapter 2

Today is the Reaping day. I wake up, dress in simple clothing, and head to the square where the Reaping is held. As I get close to the square, I see many children lined up waiting for their blood to be taken, and I join the line. When I was 12, the blood draw terrified me, but now I'm used to it; it hardly hurts anymore. When my turn comes, I step forward, they take my arm, and the needle pierces my skin, a familiar but slight pain. Then they ask me to move on, which I do. I head towards the 17-year-olds' row at the back, while the younger ones, 12, 13, and 14-year-olds, are at the front.

Once everyone is settled, the stage fills with the mayor and his family, followed by the hostess, the one who will draw the names of the tributes. I despise this woman; she's so superficial with her highly visible blue and green dress, her blonde wig adorned with ugly purple glitter; she thinks she's stylish but she's just ridiculous. With her silly, high-pitched voice, she starts as she does every year:
"Welcome to the 66th Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
Then, she reminds us why the Hunger Games were created, the Treaty of Treason, all that stuff, and then she plays the Capitol's propaganda film. When it's over, she finally says:
"Well, now we will proceed to the drawing of the male and female tribute for District 1, and as usual..."
I feel a knot in my stomach as she's about to say her last words:
"...ladies first."
She approaches the sphere containing the names of the eligible girls, reaches inside, and pulls out a slip of paper, unfolds it before reading:
"Gemma Gold."
The girl walks to the stage, climbs up, and the hostess asks:
"Is there a volunteer?"
I feel sick, I don't know why, but still, I raise my hand high so that the Capitol fool can see me.
The girls move away from me to make room, I walk up to the stage, and the girl whose place I took steps down. The woman asks me:
"What is your name, my child?"
My child, she says, honestly, you can't get any more naive, I thought before answering:
"Aurelia Belcourt."
The woman smiles broadly and then continues the ceremony:
"And now the young man will be..."
She searches in the sphere containing the boys' names, pulls out a slip of paper, and announces the name:
"...Lux Presca."
The boy walks to the stage and climbs up. The hostess asks:
"Is there a volunteer?"
No response, no sign of any volunteer, so I suppose Lux is now my teammate.
The hostess then says:
"Our tributes from District 1 for the 66th Hunger Games are Aurelia Belcourt and Lux Presca. Now, children, shake hands."
Children? I'm not a kid anymore, you clod.
And then shake hands, I wanted to hit her the moment she said that; I hate being ordered around. I see Lux has extended his hand, so I take it and shake it, as the woman asked us to, though I think I may have squeezed Lux's hand too hard, but oh well, he'll get over it.
Still as theatrical, the hostess leads us to the train, and I think to myself: I don't remember giving you permission to touch me, fool.