Real or Not Real?

Chapter 3

"(Y/N), stop." My mother interrupts, "You're a 15-year-old girl and I want you to just act like one for a second." I open my mouth to protest, but she starts speaking again. "No, let me talk. I know that I have been a terrible person and an even worse mother the last 5 years. I isolated myself and left you and your brother to take care of all us. That wasn't fair of me, because when you two started taking care of the family, you stopped being a kids. And it breaks my heart because you grew up too quickly. You shouldn't be thinking about our financial situation or what we have to eat, you should be excited about getting such a nice dress and you should be playing outside with your fiends. But you don't, and it's all my fault." 

By the time she finished talking, she had broken down into tears. I know she had good intentions telling me all this, but once again I'm left to be the adult. I'm going to have to comfort her and tell her everything's going to be ok. I scoot over next to her and put my hand on her shoulder.

"The past is the past, mom. We can't change it. The amount of responsibility you just left for Gale and I, wasn't fair. I was mad at you for that for a long time, we lost our dad too, y'know? But I decided that being angry isn't going to make life any better. I forgive you, and I love you." I grabbed the dress and held it up. "I'll wear the dress today, but if we are ever in a really tight situation, you have to promise you'll let me sell it. That way we don't starve, okay?" She looked at me with a guilty look on her face and nodded, wiping away tears at the same time.

"Go gather your siblings, we'll leave in 10 minutes"

_________

The walk to the square, where the reaping is held, felt longer than usual. Even though I probably won't get picked, it feels like I'm marching to my execution. I look at my brothers, their faces are covered in worry. Vick is only 10, so he doesn't have to worry about the reaping quite yet. Rory is 13, this will be his second year. Gale is 18, although this is his last year, he has the most to worry about. He won't tell me exactly how many times his name was put in, but I know it's a lot. We need the extra tesserae, but he won't let me or Rory get it. He wants us to have the lowest chances possible. I would be grateful, except I know that he must have his name in at least 40 times.

Finally, we reach the square. It's filled with every person that lives in district 12 except for those who are about to die or have a death wish. Everyone gets in lines to sign in. When we reach the table, they prick our finger and take a little blood. After that, we're all squeezed into roped off areas organized by age and gender. I see Katniss in front of me. She waves and I do the same. I see Gale to my left with all the boys. He's in the front since he's one of the oldest. I tried to get his attention, but he seems distracted. I continue observing the large crowd of kids, eventually, I spot Peeta. He's staring at something, or someone, right in front of me. I can't exactly tell who though. After a few seconds, his eyes meet mine. He tries to let out a comforting smile and I try to return it, though I can tell that I'm blushing intensely. Breaking our eye contact, the mayor begins telling the same story that he does every year. 

The Panem history, the disasters, the Dark Days, the uprising, and the defeated rebels. Somehow that lead to the Hunger Games as a reminder that they are in control and can do what they wish with us. Then he went over the rules. 24 tributes, 1 boy and 1 girl from each district. They fight to the death until there is 1 victor. Basically, the districts are humiliated and tortured while the Capital treats it like some holiday, a festival even. It's sick, thinking about it make my heart race with anger.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks." The mayor says while grabbing the list of the past 74 victors.

Out of the 2 victors district 12 claims on that list, only one is alive. Haymitch Abernathy. I've seen him around a couple times, and he was drunk for all of them. As if summoned by my thoughts, he arrives late and practically falls onto his chair on stage. Drunk. Again. The audience gives their custom applause at his arrival, which seems to confused him. He gets up and attempts to hug Effie Trinket, but she fights him off. The mayor looks completely embarrassed. It's understandable, though, since all of this is live on television. He'll never live this down. He tries to save the situation by quickly introducing Effie.

 As disgustingly chipper as always, she steps up to the podium with her pink, off-center wig that must have been messed up my Haymitch.

Once she settled, she gave her signature, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Then she started lying about how honored she is to be here, but I tuned out after a second. The next 3 minutes will determine the next year of my life, and whether I'll even live that long. I glance at Gale who smiles and looks at me, then Katniss. Effie announces that it is time for the drawing. 

"Ladies first!" She shouts as she digs her hand into the bowl of papers.

I look toward to the podium and my stomach drops, Not Katniss. Not me. Please not me. She stands back at the podium and opens the slip of paper. In a clear voice she reads the name.

"Primrose Everdeen."