Happy 125th Hunger Games!

As I sprinted through the forest, I was suddenly aware of Neff's footfalls approaching mine, notably faster than I had expected, and I felt a competitive thrill overwhelm me. I began to dart around trees and leap over bushes, testing his limits as well as my own. Neff stood up to the challenge, I could practically see him grinning as he kept up with my pace and had no problem recreating the exact steps I had made seconds before.
I decided that maybe I could throw him off with sheer speed and maybe a little trickery, so after running 50 feet farther, I jumped behind a tree and stopped abruptly. He came barreling through and once he noticed I'd stopped, ended up tripping over the root of the tree in an unsuccessful attempt to skid to a halt.

I sat there snickering as I watched him get up, and then I saw his face was straight and he wasn't moving. I leapt up and began apologizing profusely until I noticed a smile that burst into a full out grin and he started laughing. I grabbed the nearest branch and prodded at him jokingly with it a couple times and then dropped to the ground laughing. He joined me and after a few moments, the laughter had died down enough and I decided to ask what was on his mind.

"Neff, are you nervous about the reaping today?" I fidgeted with the branch still in my hands, and when I caught his glance, the answer was obvious.
"Not at all. OK, I mean, a little.. but I probably won't get picked anyways, and if I do.. Well odds are
I have learned and practiced stuff that would be useful. Maybe even as much as some of the careers," he said in a matter-of-fact way, and when you think about it, he's right.
We had spent countless hours learning about foods that are edible in the woods, it tends to be important when you spend so much time there as he does, we can hunt, climb trees, and we have a few pass-time games of throwing axes at targets. If he can throw an ax, maybe he could use that to help him learn to throw knives, or even a spear. Sure, being able to aim your throws with an ax is great, but when you get right down to it, it takes a lot more strength, and luck, to throw an ax at a person and deal fatal damage than it does to hit a wooden target.
I never wanted to go into the Games, not now, not ever, but when I looked over at him, I realised I don't want to tell him this, even though he probably knows already. I resorted to a solemn nod as if I understood completely.

With nothing more to say, we got up and walked in the same direction, comfortable with the silence because there was no real reason to break it, and our walks in the woods had this calming effect where we both knew what the person was feeling or thinking. At least most of the time.

When we had to split off he gave me a one-armed hug with the phrase "I'll see ya at
the reaping" leaving me to walk to my house alone. Once there, I had to hurry,so I raced to my room and threw on my favorite dress. A worn out, pleated little thing in my favorite shade of reddish orange, the color of a sunrise when the day is expected to bring heavy rain.
I decided hastily to leave my hair down and snatched up my favorite bracelet, black with a golden wreath of leaves etched around it. The lack of my family's general clamor left it pretty safe to assume that I really needed to hurry,so I bounded out of the house, barely remembering to lock the door. The dress gave me more freedom in the leg department, but also the added worry of keeping modest, not wanting to shock any other late comers with a different kind of show.

I actually arrived in plenty of time, just my luck, my parents had wanted to be extra early,and after I had shoved my way into the 15's section, I stood nervously curling my hair around my fingers, watching the minutes pass until the treaty began and I got to sit through another thrilling performance by the Mayor. When he finished, he bowed with the kind of grandeur you would expect
at one of the plays from the olden times, and I imagined roses being tossed at his feet. He would've loved that. The only exciting moment arrived when our new escort pranced onto stage.

Darian Huckabee was the oddest escort I had ever seen, and instantly became my favorite,
even if I hated Capitol people, I had to appreciate their 'flair'. He had skin tinted slightly yellow and wore red eyeliner. He also sported orangey curls that bounced when he spoke in his animated way. He wore brown and green as some sort of ode to the Lumber District, but it made him look
like a tree who had caught on fire. I was waiting for birds to flee from his ensemble and I was chuckling until I heard the words "Ladies first!" come from his painted pale yellow lips. My chest tightened and I could have sworn my heart stopped for a moment before going
into a frenzy.
He picked the first name his fingers came in contact with and pulled it out reading as clear as day, "Aspen Greenleaf!"
There it was. I couldn't say I expected it, but it was just an unlucky moment, the unluckiest of my life actually. A distant sort of voice in my head reminded me to put on my best smile, and I obeyed. I walked at a normal pace up to the stage to join him. Huckabee looked as though he expected me to say something into the microphone so I decided to risk it. No harm in being confident right? The worst I can end up is dead.
"You're looking at the next winner of the Hunger Games, this is definitely going to be the best of the Games so far!" I damn near cheered, with a note of confidence in my voice that I allowed myself to bea little proud of.
The crowd whooped and hollered for a few moments longer, and I sat down in my chair, hoping the dazed feelings I was having were not apparent on my face.
This won't be the best of the Games for me.