Gale

Catnip is what he calls me. And if you didn't the know the two of us people automatically assume we are related. We have the same straight black hair, olive-colored skin, and we also have the same grey-tinted eyes. We are not related by blood but we are pretty close. It's like he only wants the best for me. "We could do it, you know ... leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it" he says. Sometimes I consider his suggestion, but here with my mother and sister is where I should be. Or at least when or if the games are to end.



The Day of Reaping

I wake up this morning to find that my sister has left the bed to sleep with my mom. She has been terrified for the last few weeks. The day of reaping is the worse day of the year for anyone 12-18. 18 years is the last year of eligibility. Each and every boy and girl's name is entered as soon as they turn 12. Everybody in discrict 12 is saying their last "goodbyes" as if they were to be chosen. Guess I won't know who is chosen until today at 2:00 pm. Wish me luck. Cross your fingers. I'll tell you how it goes.