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"In your heart.. somewhere.. there's hope.."
I woke up bright and early one Winter morning. Day of the reaping.
I walked quietly to the kitchen. My mother stood there, her eyes aimed towards the floor.
"What's up, mom?" I greeted her, trying to play casual.
She sighed deeply, and put her hand on my shoulder. "Today is the very first reaping.. for the Hunger Games."
I nodded knowingly. It's been going around on television for the past month now.
I'm Nina, from District 9. Yes, grain. And I don't enjoy doing it. I do it every Saturday.
I slipped on grey platform boots, a white tank top with a heavy, fuzzy sweater to go over it, paired along with blue sweatpants.
Honestly, I'm scared.. not even scared. Horrified. Absolutely terrified.
I can't lie..
The reaping was 11:30 this morning. I checked the clock.
Surely enough, it was 10 AM.
My smaller brother, Drake, who was about 8 1/2 years old, slumped into the kitchen area, with huge under-eye bags and a grumpy attitude to go with him.
"Good morning.." I shrugged. I really didn't care.
I was worried. Dead worried.
Stress hung over my shoulders, as I walked quickly out the door, giving my mom and Drake a quick kiss goodbye before going to the reaping. The square was 10 minutes away.
It was 11:05. A bit early, but there's no time to waste, honestly.
I got there at about 11:25. Yes, later than expected, but, still.
A lady named Tarns Francy walked up confidently onto the stage, with a huge grin on her face. The reaping was NOT something to be happy about, woman.
Anyway, there was obviously the boring speech at the beginning of ANY celebration.. or reaping whatever.
This wasn't a celebration, but was close enough to it.
Once they started pulling for names, sweat dripped down from my forehead.. no, it wasn't hot.. it was stress.
I sighed deeply, and thought about the chances.
I probably wouldn't get picked.. eh..
"Ladies first!" Tarns cried happily.
She put her hand in the glass, clear jar and pulled out a name.
Tarns smoothed it out, and read loud and clear.
My eyes widened, and I teared up.
"WHAT?!" I screamed.
I shook my head, and was taken by the guards up to the stage.
I was sobbing, literally SOBBING when I sat down on the chair.
No one volunteered.
I'm a loser.
Time for boys.
My old.. old.. childhood friend.
I am 16 years old now, though.
He's 15.. I just.. no! We both can't end this way.
No one volunteered for him, either.
This, is gonna be fun.
To Be Continued..