Safe and Sound || Hunger Games

Chapter Two - The Reaping

DEDICATION: Cover at the side by _daunicorn! Love it :)

Chapter Two - The Reaping

Those two days before the reaping had passed already and far too quickly in my opinion, and it was time for the Hunger Games to start. I still hadn't thanked that Grayson boy for giving me his rabbit. I had seen him about school. It had turned out he was in my year and he had just turned sixteen, but despite how much I had seen him about, I still hadn't had the chance to catch him on my own and thank him properly. Perhaps it was because he had been ignoring me or because he was focusing on the Games. The Games. The sick, twisted form of entertainment that turned kids into monsters and murderers, that TV show that appealed so much to the people of the Capitol, that game where you had no choice but to kill or be killed.

I woke up with a bad feeling about the day ahead. There was something about today that seemed different, but I couldn't quite place a finger on it. I got up and slouched down the stairs to see what outfit my mother had prepared for me.

It certainly wasn't actually what I was expecting.

I got downstairs to see my mother was in the kitchen, nose stuck in a cookery book, obviously trying to find a recipe that used the least amount of food. She looked up from her recipe book and tilted her head to the side, shaking it slightly in an almost disapproving manner.

"Now, we can't let you go the reaping wearing your pyjamas. Come on, follow me. Your father helped me pick something out for you." She said, sounding kinder than usual, which didn't seem like quite a good sign to me. Maybe it was because she finally realised she could lose her daughter to the Games. Maybe it was because she finally realised that I was worth a little more than my while. Whatever the reason, it certainly couldn't be good. However, the fact that my father had helped gave me a little bit of hope.

My mother lead me out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards my parents' room. She opened the door and my father looked up from the book he was holding. He was still bedbound, but he seemed to have perked up a little bit because of that rabbit. He had managed to savour every last bit of it. If only I could give him more good, cooked food. He might even have a chance of surviving. My mother gestured for me to sit down at the end of the bed, so I did. I didn't want to annoy her now.

"Close your eyes." Mother said as she walked over to her wardrobe. I squeezed my eye shut, feeling very much like a child again. My father used to play these games with me, it always used to cheer me up and made me feel so much better, to put a smile on my face, "Okay, now open them." My eyes opened and widened at the sight of the dress my mother held in her arms. It was my great aunt's reaping dress, from the Hunger Games she had been chosen for. I didn't know what to say. It was beautiful, but it had some sort of bad aura surrounding it, "Your father and I chose it for you, like I said. He thought it would suit you."

I looked up to my father, who had a faint smile on his face. I couldn't help but return that smile, even if it was ever so slightly forced. I looked back at the dress. It was light green, made of cotton and came to my knees. It had thick straps, covering most of my collarbone, but they stopped just before the edge of my shoulder. Around it was some sort of wide, darker green belt, which was also made of cotton and stitched onto the material.

"Put it on." My mother said. I reached out and took the dress in my hands. It was probably the best garment I would put on, well, that is if I didn't get picked for the Hunger Games. I scurried to my bedroom and took my nightgown off and put some underwear on. I sighed at how my hip bones stuck out slightly, but I tried my best to ignore it. I then walked back into my mother's room and smiled to my mother. She helped me slip the material over my head. I looked down. The darker green, sash like belt pinched in at my waist and allowed the skirt to flow out. It stopped right at my knee and when I swayed my hips, the skirt moved about.