Games

I sat at the shoreline, watching the water come and go over my feet. The sun was scorching hot on my skin, and I longed for a swim. But I knew now wasn't the time. I should've been back at my house ten minutes ago, but I lingered on the beach a little longer.
With a groan of frustration, I hoisted myself up and walked through the sand, barefoot, towards home.
The streets were full of venders; people selling fish, jewelry, items for home, and more. There were few big stores, most things were just sold in the outside market here in District 4. All shops were monitored by Peacekeepers, the demanding police the Capitol forces on us.
I passed a familiar Peacekeeper, Kate. She's one of the nicer ones. I flash a quick smile at her and continue on my way my head down the whole time.
In Panem, we've been separated into twelve districts, with no contact between one another. The only time we get insight to the other districts is twice a year, and both are for the unanticipated Hunger Games.
Every year, two citizens, a boy and girl, are reaped from all twelve districts, creating twenty four tributes. The whole stupid thing is televised for everyone to see. Twenty four kids, ages twelve to eighteen, fighting to the literal death. It's awful. And then they take the "victor" on a victory tour.
It's sad for me to admit, but I do watch it. Not because I find it entertaining, not that at all. But I want to make I have a few tricks up my sleeve if I ever get reaped. I wouldn't go down without a fight.
The only problem is: the arena changes with each Game. You never know what you're going to get. But that's life, I guess.
I had the good grace to be one of the better off in the district. My parents were both popular fishers and traders, and we made a good amount of money. We lived in a little white house right off the beach, with sandy grass and stones leading up to our front door. The white picket fence that surrounded the house topped it off nicely.
Life wasn't the best, with the constant watch of the Peacekeepers, the Hunger Games and the fear of getting chosen, the lack of education because of the strict President Snow, but when I saw my house...it made things better. It was the only place, other than the water, in which I felt completely safe.
I walked in and shut the door, to find my mom and dad in the kitchen, cooking some tilapia they had caught in a big pan. I had always felt that my parents were meant for each other. My mom was a short little tough thing, and my dad was a tall, sweet man who wouldn't hurt a fly.
I smiled at them and they returned it. Our family was one of few words, and I didn't mind that one bit.