May 14, 2014
As I enter into the reaping room, I freeze in my tracks. This is the entire pool of tributes to choose from? I think as I take my seat. This year, there are hardly any eligible tributes in the reaping ball. The odds really aren’t in my favor this year! A nervous sweat trickles slowly down my forehead. NO! Not here, I tell myself, if I do end up in the games I will need allies, and in order to do that I can’t appear weak. I sit there among the other fifteen year olds and try my very best to seem indifferent. For me, pulling off a poker face is harder than a crystal, but I somehow manage.
Harper Haze walks up to the stage, wearing her usual flats and blue glasses. She digs around in the reaping ball and time seems to slow down. I constantly have to wipe my sweaty palms on my new skirt and I can feel my heart racing a thousand beats a second. Harper takes out a piece of paper and we all watch her saunter over to the microphone. As she takes it in her hands I pray to God do not let it be me. I will do anything but don’t let her say my name. She then clears her throat with a quick cough and announces the last thing I want to hear: “Catherine Grace”. Just like that, the very small flicker of hope still in me completely goes out.
I walk up to the stage and I look over at my mom, dad, and my younger siblings (Allison and Patrick). I see them crying and it was like you could hear my heart shatter into a million pieces. The realization that this will probably be the last time I ever see them hits me in full force right then and there and I blink back the hot tears that I can feel forming in my eyes. You have to be strong, I say to myself, for them. My mom and I look straight into each other’s eyes and there is a tacit understanding between us that this is most likely good-bye, forever.