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“It’s going to be okay” Abigail’s mom kissed the top of her head, tears where streaming down both of their faces. Her older brother wrapped a protective arm around Abby, after kissed his mother.

                “We’ll be okay, Mom. Now we get a tesserae right? More food! Less chance of starving” He said, a wry smile barely touching his face. Mark, always the optimist.  Her Mom simply nodded, Abigail doubted she could voice anything. 

                “You two had better not be chosen” Their mom threatened, as if they had a choice. Finally the three of them stood staring at each other, trying to absorb each moment. They knew this was coming. Ever since the capital announced that district 13 had been destroyed, ever since they informed the districts of the Hunger Games exactly one year ago to date. Many were still foggy on the details, but one thing was for sure. Two children from the ages of twelve to eighteen were going to be chosen from each district to fight till the death, and one of those children could be your child.

                “W-we’re going to be late” Abigail stutter out, wiping the tears from her face. Both her brother and Abigail had their names in the pot four times. They needed the tessarae, it was a miracle they had survived that last year without it.

                “I love you Abby” Her mother whispered.

                “I love you too” Abigail whispered back before leaving the house with Mark.

                It was a quiet walk through district eleven. The district was a large one. Mom had often told Abigail stories as a child of how it was once full of people, everyone working at the fields and picking food. These stories always had a happy tune when I was a child, but as I got older they slowly became darker. My parent’s hatred for the capitol became evident, the amount of starving that had happened before was more apparent. Although it was nowhere near as bad as it was now. Nearly half of the population had died due to the rebellion. Now people began working at just the age of twelve because of the shortage of workers, the capital asked for much more than it needs to prove a point. This last year was miserable. Kids were lucky to learn to read, never less write here. The entire focus of their society over the years had been on rebelling. That spirit was dying, fast. As more and more peacekeepers arrived to stop the rallies, more and more people died. The hunger games added to it, striking fear into all parents. For some it made them even more set on their goal, many of those people were already dead.

                The streets where silent, there were only a few other children making their way to the town center where they were told the drawing would take place. Abigail could see peacekeepers knocking on doors, more than once we saw children being pulled, kicking and screaming, out of their house. Forced to attend. Each time this happened, she felt Mark stiffen beside her.  He had been more involved in the rebellion then Abigail, their parents would never allow her to take part. Mark, though, had been all too keen to take down the capitol once they killed his fiancée. Despite their young age, Mark had been engaged when he was sixteen, only two years ago. The day before their wedding Marissa, his fiancée, had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Capitol had just won the war, a rally was being held. Marissa was simply trying to reach her house when she was shot. Murdered on the spot. Mark had always been keen to the rebellion, but now he held a firm hatred against the capitol. Nothing could change that.

                Reaching the center, the first thing Abigail noticed were the pins. Children were being lined up inside like caged animals, it was sickening.

                “Hey you! Get in line!” A peacekeeper shouted at Abigail, gun level with her chest. She  glanced up at her brother to see him glaring at the man. Quickly, She grabbed his arm and pulled Mark away from the peacekeeper.