The Reaping

  IT HAD BEEN TWO YEARS SINCE THE NIGHT OF AMARANTH'S whipping, two years since the end of the 65th annual Hunger Games, or at least, almost two years. Today was the day of the reaping, the beginning of the end for a large group of teens. The day their fates would be decided by a small little balled up piece of paper.

Everyone in district eleven lined up in front of the stage quietly, awaiting the escort for their area. The womans name was Twinkle Hightower, a lady born in the capital, a woman who had no idea what kind of hell each citizen had to go through on a daily basis. She was also the woman who chose from the clear bowl of names, the person who'd pick who the tributes were.

"Hello, is this working?" The ditzy woman asked as she tapped on the microphone before her. "Oh yes, I believe it is, wonderful!"

Twinkle giggled, keeping a happy expression on her face as she held the microphone closer, this was her job, after all.

"Now that we are all here, the time has come to choose a lucky man and woman to represent district eleven in the 67th annual hunger games, it would truly be an honor for any of you." The cheery lady said, trying to hold in even more enthusiasm from bursting out of her. "This is so exciting."

"Honor my ass." Amara mumbled underneath her breath, the girls palms sweating profusely as she wiped them on her pants. Most of the girls wore dresses but her best clothes were truly the ones that she had on.

No present mother to sew one for her, or present father to make trades to get one.

"Now, i'm sure you all know the order we do this in." Twinkle walked over to one side of the stage, a clear bowl of names in front of her. "Ladies first, as always."

The woman carefully shifted the names around the bowl before finally choosing a small piece of paper in which she would later read the name off of, carefully picking it up with her pinky in the air.

"Hm, this seems right." The Hightower woman moseyed back towards the microphone, slowly opening up the paper and reading it before she spoke, the few moments before she spoke, the silence was deafening. "Amaranth Reed!"

Amara felt like she had been hit by a truck as everyone turned to stare at her. Of course, she had wondered what it would be like to be picked but now that it was happening, it seemed like life couldn't get any worse for the girl. Her eyes widened slightly as she nodded her head, accepting that she was practically dead already.

"Come on up, darling. We're all waiting for you." Twinkle spoke enthusiastically, it was like she was trying to be demanding in the nicest way possible.

A group of peacekeepers approached Amaranth, grabbing her arm as they pulled her slowly but surely through the crowds of people. Nobody cared she was picked, why would they? She was a nobody.

The teen felt a small droplet fall down her face, a tear, something that was odd for her to shed. She allowed herself to be dragged up and onto the stage, waiting to see who would be the poor soul who had to join her in this terrible journey. Maybe they could stick together as far as possible, even if they didn't survive.

"How old are you, Amaranth?" Twinkle questioned, positioning her microphone towards the girl thoughtfully.

"16." The Reed teen replied, staring into space, thinking of how brutally she'd be murdered. "... and it's Amara."

"Wonderful, Amara. What a good age, hm, let's give a round of applause for Ms. Reed!" The Hightower woman yelled.

A few people abided by the rules, scattered applause being heard from a few individuals. For the most part though, it was silent, the people of district eleven already mourning another one of their childrens deaths. Even if she was still alive, there was little to no hope she'd stay that way.

Twinkle cleared her throat before continuing, "Now, quickly, we'll move on to the selection of the young man for district eleven."

Amara felt as she was about to hyperventilate, her chest tightening and hands sweating as she tapped her foot on the ground, how could this be happening?

The Hightower woman reached into the other clear bowl, taking her time to pick a name. Once she did, she walked back the the microphone still wearing a smile on her face. How she could continue to smile after sealing the fate of two teenagers was beyond anyones thought process, even her own.

"Basil Covyn." Twinkle called out loudly, waiting for the boy to claim what she thought was a prize.

Amara looked out into the crowd, she hadn't spoken two Basil since the night she was whipped. There wasn't much reason to speak to him. When they never seen each other again, she figured he must've died of starvation, it wasn't really unusual for kids in their area of Panem, she was obviously wrong.

Basil stayed glued in place, looking around the area along with everyone else. He hoped if nobody recognized him that he would be free to go and they would just pick out another name. His plan obviously didn't work when everyone's eyes landed on him, his heart sinking to his feet.

"Oh, come on." He mumbled to himself, running his hands over his face. "Rats, all of you. Every single one!"

Peacekeepers quickly approached him, grabbing both of his arms and dragging him towards the stage. The Covyn boy fought back, trying to wiggle away from the mens strong grip to no avail. He was going to join Amara up there, there was no stopping it, they were marching these two teens to their deaths.

"Get off of me." Basil spat as be was thrown on the stage, anger in his eyes. He didn't belong there, no kid belonged there, no human did.

"Well, that was certainly a dramatic entrance." Twinkle said through her teeth, a smile still spread across her face. Every few seconds Amaranth glanced over, wondering if it was a surgery or herb that kept her face so perky and chipper. "Here are the tributes for district eleven!"

An uncomfortable silence fell over the area, nobody daring to say a word. Basil sighed and without warning, approached Amara and enveloped her in a big hug. She hadn't been hugged in years and even in this situation, it was a nice feeling hell, in any situation it would.

"Oh, that's lovely." The Hightower woman stated. "What good sportsmanship our tributes have."

The seemingly hollow woman clapped her hands together excitedly, watching the two district eleven tributes hugging, tears threatening to escape both their eyes.

"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor." Twinkle stated, signing off like every other escort would before a huge set of doors opened up behind them, eager to retreat to their fancy lives.

The trio was ushered into the doors and away from the eyes of district eleven. It was hard to believe that all these thing were truly happening, they were apart of the Hunger Games. They would have to kill or be killed, and one thing was for sure...

The odds would not be in their favor, ever.

AUTHORS NOTE —
Here is chapter one! I forgot to add this in the intro but Twinkle's fc is lady gaga!

I have been planning a few things out and may I just say, this book might make me and you both cry lmfao.

Anyways, hope you enoyed!