The Cost of being Victor

The Reaping (Chapter 1) *revised*

          You know those random times where you're excited for something you get to be a part of and then later you're like, "What have I gotten myself into??". Well, that's pretty much exactly how I felt as I walked down to the reaping square of my home, District 4. The fact that I hadn't had anything for breakfast didn't help either. 

          You see, our district is one to always produce careers. The careers are from districts 1, 2, and 4, and are the most savage, lethal and dangerous tributes to ever enter the games. This is because we attend a special combat academy in our district starting at the age of 7 and the desire to injure and even kills other tributes comes from years of preparation and support from our families and fellow district citizens, and because we careers have so many advantages over others, we are much more physically and mentally prepared for the games. In fact, a career is almost always the victor and if they win, they are showered with gifts and fame and a life free of worry and full of luxury. This extravagant prize turns some career tributes arrogant but these games change everybody, whether you participate or not, in horrible, irreversible ways. President Snow has also made sure that every citizen has the treaty of treason memorized as a form of additional torture, too. As if sending 2 children from their district to fight to the death every year wasn't enough of a punishment already. 

           Well, uh back to me... The capitol women at the sign-in table takes my finger, pricks it, and stamps a droplet of my blood on a sheet containing my personal information. She scans it with a small detector and reads, "Macy Truth, 14 years of age. District 4. You may go on now." I secured a band-aid around my finger as I took my place in the rows of teenage girls and boys as well as their families. Seeing so many people in one place was overwhelming but this wasn't time for worry or fright. This was 'The Hunger Games'. The legendary, almighty, Hunger Games. And we were about to find out who would die representing our district.

          A part of me wanted to volunteer because, well, I wanted to test my strength and durability and these games gave me exactly that. Another part of me wanted to stay exactly where I was and let someone else carry the 'honor' of representing the district. Someone more capable, perhaps. For a scary moment I saw myself dead and everything, all my years in the academy going to waste. I didn't know what to do and tears came to my eyes as I realized that if I got reaped, I would die, because, as you may know, there's always someone better than you. I quickly wiped my tears away, though, as Finnick Odair looked at me from the other side of the square. We were best friends since childhood and every year Finn and I dreaded the moment when we'd be separated, perhaps forever, and one of us would be sent to our deaths, knowing that that person would die. We would hide in the woods and he would hold my hands in his, look into my eyes, and assure me it would be alright and that I'd be safe with him, and then he'd cry too as he hugged me. We both just didn't believe we could make it out. Alive, that is. He gave me one of his charming smiles from where he stood, assuring me it would be alright. I scoffed. As if that would solve my problems. 

           I knew he wanted to volunteer to save a boy's life and I dreaded what my life would be like if he died. He's what maintained my sanity. He gave me hope, courage. And I think I might've even liked him but I hid my feelings as I was afraid he'd die and I'd be even more broken than I am now...  As President Snow likes to say, hope is the only thing stronger than fear, and although I knew that he was capable of living if he tried, it was up to me to make sure Finnick came out of that arena. Finally, after what seemed like hours and hours of waiting and waiting, the escort withdrew a name from the bowl of female names. It seemed as if everybody's breath was drawn into a collective one and we waited. We waited to hear who would be selected. To die. When she had a slip of paper in her hand, she excitedly rushed over to her stupid microphone and read the name. Everything seemed to move extremely slowly as her lips parted and she read the name. 

          It was Macy Truth.