Part 2: The Reaping

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Y/N

I wake up; my face is still swollen from last night's aftermath. To my surprise, my older sister Brier has bread waiting for me on the dining table. "I have something Mom probably would have wanted you to wear," Brier states. "Now that you're 16, might as well look decent for the reaping". She sets a box down on the table, and when I lift the lid, I'm met with a dress layered in fabrics of every color. "It was hers, but it serves no purpose sitting in a box, hidden from glory." I thank her and immediately try it on, excited to finally have something of my mother's. It fits perfectly. My excitement quickly vanishes, however, when I realize it's time for me to leave for the reaping. I hugged my sister goodbye, both of us holding onto the hope that it wouldn't be goodbye, before making my way out.

Brier has always been around since mom died. Her presence means a lot because she makes every effort to show she cares. She notices how Mom's death has affected me and tries to make up for the fact that she is not here through small gestures.

The dress is no small gesture.

...

I make my way to Hall Justice.

The children from District 12 are lined up in rows, stretching about 80 feet before me. From my point of view, I can see the back of almost all potential tributes; some I wish would be chosen. My odds are in the air with my family history and personal reputation.

"Today, we announce the two 10th annual tributes to the Hunger Games. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds forever be in your favor," announces Mayor Lipp.

The governor, without hesitation, announces "Y/n" in a monotone voice.

Shit.

For a moment, I can't hear anything. I can listen to the audible shock and whispers of the other children around me. Soon, it all came full circle when I realized I had caught Billy with the mayor's daughter, Mayfair. My feet begin carrying me towards the stage mechanically. I meet Mayfair's eyes as I pass her–they are filled with gleeful revenge.

"Sing your way out of this one, y/n," Mayfair chirps.

I can't bring myself to respond, but I slip a black snake into the back of her dress without hesitation. She doesn't react immediately but screams when she feels the fellow slither down her back.

"Ugh! You will pay for this, y/n," she screams.

I got a chuckle out of it, and so did the crowd. Some looked at her and laughed. The adrenaline faded into anxiety as I continued to Hall Justice's front. As I took my place behind the mayor on stage, I vaguely registered them calling out Jessup's name as the male tribute.

Time starts to pass so quickly. I am on the stand, staring at the crowd like a deer in headlights. I say nothing when Mayor Mayfair expects me to say something. Not even Jessup says anything. We are pulled off stage and into a room resembling a coat closet.

"You'll wait here until the train arrives," announces the peacekeeper.

I feel numb, unable to digest every emotion I am feeling. We aren't even allowed to say goodbye.

Some time passed, and Jessup and I were pulled to the train. Without hesitation, the peacekeeper shoves me into a cart. I feel like cattle being prodded into the car. We are nothing more than caged animals to them, being shipped away for slaughter.

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