"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that the district twelve male tribute for the Hunger Games is......

KIM XIUMIN!!!" 

Silence. Xiumin stood, fixed to the spot. "What..."

Murmurs ripple through the crowd, who forces a few scattered applause as heads started turning his way, but for xiumin, nothing was comprehensible as the ringing starts in his ears and his vision becomes unfocused. 

He didn't know how, but soon he found himself upon the stage, shaking the hand of the official who incessantly comments on how lucky is to have this chance. 

Oh, how he hated his fortune right now. 

"Well, Xiumin, Congratulations! It is an honour  be chosen, so how are you feeling right now?" The official's smile is sickeningly pleasant as he hands the microphone over to Xiumin.

"Well, I..ummm...I'm...."

"Oh, will you look at that! The boy is happy beyond words. The man chuckles and the crowd follows along, awkwardly  laughing.

"Well, boy. Come on, what do you have to say?" Everyone looks at him expectantly.

Xiumin scans through the crowd and he is met with relaxed and relieved faces, for the sacrificial victim had already been reaped and it wasn't them. However his eyes stop on his father's face, brown and wrinkled and familiar, which was now wet with tears and lined with sorrow. Xiumin turned away, towards the official and looked right into his eyes.

"I guess, it is a honor for my name to be drawn. And it looks like the odds were in my favor today. Ha ha. "

And as Xiumin said those words, he prayed that the odds will be in his favour for the next three weeks, because he will need every single drop of luck he can get if he wanted to come out alive. 

                                                   ----------------------------------------------------------------------

The goodbye were short, but painful. Xiumin didn't have many relatives or friends, except his father. His father had spent two hours promising Xiumin that everything was going to be okay, and he would come back home in no time, yet Xiumin understood that his father knew that wasn't the case and was merely only trying to convince himself. He let himself be babied for one last time as he found refuge in his father's arms, the castle that had protected him ever since he was young. 

Time had never travelled so quickly and within the blink of an eye, it was all over. No more hugs, no more playing, no more shelter. It was time to board the train, time to face the world. And what a cruel world it is.