"Cherie Oakland". These two words are the words that would turn my life upside down.
I woke that morning to a horn sounding, just like every other morning. Except this morning wasn't like every other morning. Today was the morning of the reaping. The reaping for the 74th annual Hunger Games. My brother was weeping in the corner of the room. He is fifteen years old and I am seventeen. We come from district four—the fishing village.
As my mother walked into the room she looked at both my brother and I and said "I did this for the best of the family". And she left.
My brother and I both have our names in the reaping sixty times each. We went through a rough patch at the time the Hunger Games starting coming in to action. Mother was ill and we were low on supplies. In district four we usually don't have any trouble with supplies as what we don't send to the capitol, we keep for ourselves. This past month our water sources had been polluted, probably by the capitol scum. Most of the fish had died and the small amount that was left we had to send to them. I don't blame my mother for what she did, a lot of people do it, but I never thought she would risk her own kids like that.
I sifted through my draw until I found my aqua blue dress. Mother said she liked how it resembled rolling water. It made things calmer. I lifted the dress over my head and it flowed down my body in one swift movement. I rolled a pair of ankle white socks onto my feet and opened the draw under the one where my dress was. I found a dark blue shirt and a pair of over-sized pants for my brother. As I helped him button up his shirt he gave me a tight hug. I knew how scared he was. I was too. This was the first time that we ever had our names in there more than we had to.
The reaping was in the town square as always. At the reaping mother left my brother and I to get into our designated areas. The peacekeepers had us line up with the rest of the kids from district four.
His voice was rough. It sounded strangely familiar. I replied, voice trembling.
I held out my hand for the peacekeeper to take. I felt a sharp prick on the tip of my forefinger. He laid down a card and pressed my finger to it.
"Head down to the second area, on the right"
I did as he told me. As I descended down the square I spotted many nervous faces and also many confident ones. I looked around for my brother but I couldn't spot him. Everything in the square went silent. This was the moment—the moment that would change two undeserving child's lives for good.