Status: Complete
Alive Till Kingdom Come.
Preparation.
After we ate, my dad insisted on fixing my hair before we leave (even though we’re going to be late but hey, he’s the mayor so, I guess he gets some perks). So, here we are in front of the huge mirror in the hallway, dad tugging on my hair with a wet comb.
“Where’s mom?” I ask. A hint of anger tracing my words.
“She’s at the justice building.”
“One of her own sons might be shipped off to get murdered and she isn’t even here.” I mumble while rolling my eyes. Dad hits me on the head, lightly with the comb.
“It wasn’t her choice. Besides ‘if one of her sons get shipped off’ she’ll be there on the train.”
It’s not that I don’t love my mom because I do it’s just very deep down. I don’t know what it is but she’s always been so distant, especially to me and it gets on my nerves all the time. Maybe she doesn’t like me or the Hunger Games messed her up that bad but whatever it is, it’s extremely difficult to deal with.
“Whatever.”
“You know she loves you.”
“Maybe...”
“Abram, seriously. Your mother loves you very much…it’s just hard for her. You’ll understand when you’re older.” I don’t particularly like it when adults say this. I’m not five and I understand fine! I don’t see how age could change this. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I’m frowning. My brown wavy hair is combed back out of my face. My golden brown eyes nestled in between thick eyelashes. Other then my father I haven’t seen anyone with eyes like these. There something that makes me unique. Like everybody else in the district my skin is sun kissed and I have some light freckles on my nose and under my eyes. Even after I hit puberty I’ve always been a baby face and had zero acne.
“You look so handsome!” Willow says sweetly as she jumps into my arms. Willow can always put a smile on my face when I’m angry. I stick my tongue out at her and she giggles.
“Well, that’s as good as your hair is going to get. Let’s go.”
And with that my family and I headed to the reaping.
The sun was so high in the sky, it’s impossible to not be soaked in it’s light and not a single cloud in sight. All the leaves on the trees were vivid and crisp. They would fall soon. The wind blew lazily. It sounded like the whispers of all the people in district 11 and the one thing they were all talking about.
Despite it being such a beautiful day it was going to be horrible. Because today is the day one boy and one girl were chosen to fight for their lives in the 69th annual Hunger Games. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous (after what my brother said this morning can you blame a guy?) but I’m as safe as a 16 year old can get. I’ve never had to sign up for tesserae so my name would be in the bowl only 4 times.
“Where’s mom?” I ask. A hint of anger tracing my words.
“She’s at the justice building.”
“One of her own sons might be shipped off to get murdered and she isn’t even here.” I mumble while rolling my eyes. Dad hits me on the head, lightly with the comb.
“It wasn’t her choice. Besides ‘if one of her sons get shipped off’ she’ll be there on the train.”
It’s not that I don’t love my mom because I do it’s just very deep down. I don’t know what it is but she’s always been so distant, especially to me and it gets on my nerves all the time. Maybe she doesn’t like me or the Hunger Games messed her up that bad but whatever it is, it’s extremely difficult to deal with.
“Whatever.”
“You know she loves you.”
“Maybe...”
“Abram, seriously. Your mother loves you very much…it’s just hard for her. You’ll understand when you’re older.” I don’t particularly like it when adults say this. I’m not five and I understand fine! I don’t see how age could change this. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I’m frowning. My brown wavy hair is combed back out of my face. My golden brown eyes nestled in between thick eyelashes. Other then my father I haven’t seen anyone with eyes like these. There something that makes me unique. Like everybody else in the district my skin is sun kissed and I have some light freckles on my nose and under my eyes. Even after I hit puberty I’ve always been a baby face and had zero acne.
“You look so handsome!” Willow says sweetly as she jumps into my arms. Willow can always put a smile on my face when I’m angry. I stick my tongue out at her and she giggles.
“Well, that’s as good as your hair is going to get. Let’s go.”
And with that my family and I headed to the reaping.
The sun was so high in the sky, it’s impossible to not be soaked in it’s light and not a single cloud in sight. All the leaves on the trees were vivid and crisp. They would fall soon. The wind blew lazily. It sounded like the whispers of all the people in district 11 and the one thing they were all talking about.
Despite it being such a beautiful day it was going to be horrible. Because today is the day one boy and one girl were chosen to fight for their lives in the 69th annual Hunger Games. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous (after what my brother said this morning can you blame a guy?) but I’m as safe as a 16 year old can get. I’ve never had to sign up for tesserae so my name would be in the bowl only 4 times.
♠ ♠ ♠
xo, Jessie