Snow

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When I wake up in the morning, the sun is just glittering off the mounds of snow that have seemingly appeared overnight. I stand up, stretch, and make my way out of the house. My feet pad soundlessly on cold cement floors, and once outside I quietly close the door. As usual, no one is up at this time of day except for me, and the Capitol Peacekeepers. The snow crunches softly underfoot, and I can already feel the dampness starting to seep in. Reaping Day... what a day to have snow.

What we call the town square is an open dilapidated area that serves as the crossroads for the Twelve Sectors, in which all Capitol citizens and their children from Snow’s time now live. Here, we are given our daily rations, which may seem meager but are in reality far more generous than the poorer districts ever received under Snow. The silent Peacekeeper hands me the package, and I open it to find a few crusts of bread and some tubers. Good. This can last us a while.

Back at the house, my mother is up and waiting. She takes one look at the package contents and turns away.

The relationship between me and my mother is complicated. Living like this is hardest for her because she vividly remembers when all of life was party and she sat within opulence, wealth, and everything she could ever want. I pity her at times, but otherwise I despise the way she will not toughen up and adjust. Baekhyun’s mother, for example, recalls the old life as well, but she, in contrast, has come out strong and taken care of her children. My mother in comparison is so weak, and I’m so thankful I don’t have any siblings she would treat the same way. My father died in one of the rebel raids back when District 13 was taking over, and I was so young then that I’ve grown up in this new world. It’s all I’ve ever known.

But new as life might be, Katniss did not change something when she came to power, and that was the Hunger Games. It’s really no surprise; after all, she suffered twice in the Games and lost so many friends. I don’t think anyone really believed her when she said she would get rid of them. There isn’t a person out there with that good of a heart.

The rules are the same: children from ages twelve to eighteen are entered automatically. Tesserae doesn’t exist anymore, so I suppose that’s a slight mercy. Every year, the pool of Capitol children tributes are chosen from gets smaller and smaller. But that’s the point, anyways, to wipe us all out.

One tribute from each Sector is drawn, so each year there are twelve tributes total. There’s just one difference.

The tributes have powers.

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