Quarter Quell

Why do Quarter Quells occur? For Capitol citizen's pride, their glory, their entertainment. So they can watch us die in a special way, one that only happens every twenty-five years. This is the first one. Where they vote who to send off.

Me, being the most liked kid in District 12, a merchant's kid, as the grimy Seam kids call us. I have blonde shoulder-length hair, envious blue eyes, pale skin, and a warm smile. Yes, I'm very, very liked in District 12, and I live with one of the families that can actually afford food.

My best friend, Lily, comes up to my door and demands to be let in every morning. On the morning of the Reaping, certain that neither of us will be traveling to the Capitol, I let her in with a smile. All votes for the tributes have been cast, and there are no more than eight thousand names per ballot. The chances are so slight that anyone I know will be cast...I voted for a random Seam child. Areah Donner, I think her name was.

"Hi, Lily," I say as she demands her presence in my room. "Ready for the dreaded Reaping day?"

"Do I look ready, Abby?" she asks. My real name is Annabella Waber, but my close friends and family call me Abby. I really don't know why.

"Yes, you really do," I venture, because I haven't exactly looked at what she was wearing today. But, after having known me for a good--what, seven years?--seven years, she knows I never have even intended to assess her looks.

"Look at me!" She screeches, pulling me into her line of view. She's wearing a thin pink sundress with white sandals, her light brown hair in locks at her shoulders.

"Yes!" I yell at her. "You're ready! So am I. Let's go."

She pulls my hand and whisks me away, out the door, to the fifteen-year-old section in the square where the Reapings are always held.

"Did you tell my mom we were leaving?" I ask her. She wouldn't care, surely, because she has a broken leg, and couldn't come, as well as she knows I will not be sent off.

"No," Lily says, and laughs. "Why would I?"

"No reason," I say, and sigh as Mayor Wiltlide walks onto the stage. Time for the dreaded speech that no one in their right mind would enjoy. No one pays much attention, but when District 12's current escort, Binini Flatoya, walks up to the stage and says, "Ladies first!" I sigh. Because there's no Reaping Ball this year. The slip of paper is in her hands.

Half of the children sigh, hoping the person they picked gets to leave. Almost all of the Seam kids are looking at me and Lily, but because I don't know who Areah Donner is, I can't exactly stare her down.

Flatoya takes in a giant breath of air, and lets it out by saying the name, "Annabella Waber." I just keep starring at the Seam kids, because it's sure to be one of them, right? But when Lily pushes me forward, I realize that that was my name and I am, in fact, going to the Capitol.

I stumble onto the stage, and look at the smiles on everyone's faces, including Lily's and pretty much all of the adults. What? Did they all vote for me? If the answer is yes...I think I'll reconsider winning the Games. Why would I give them that pleasure?

And, next, Flatoya is saying the boy's name, which is "Conner Partsor."

Conner, this boy with ashy blonde hair, is someone I've never met, but is obviously merchant, just like I. He has brown eyes, and an okay smile, because, for some odd reason, he is.

"Congratulations!" Flatoya says. "I'd ask for volunteers, but, sadly, they cannot be tolerated this year, as you voted for your tributes."

That's right. They voted us in. We're stuck in.. Curse District 12, anyone that has or will live in it.

Peacekeepers grab me by the arms and take me to the Justice Building, into a small, one-door, windowless room. This is the one-hour time period allotted for visitors, gifts, praises, and goodbyes.

None of which will be said to me, it just so happens to turn out. I sit there, exactly one hour, says the grandfather clock on the wall, before Peacekeepers came and threw me into the train with Conner, this person whom I've never met, someone I don't know, who doesn't know me.

But, by the way he looks at me, I know the latter is wrong. He knows who I am.

"Hello," I say, walking to sit next to him on a long red velvet couch. "I'm Abby."

"I know who you are," Conner says. "I'm Conner. Conner Partsor."

"How do you know me?" I ask, really wondering who this Conner guy is. So far, I personally think he's a stalker.

"Everyone knows you, Abby. You're all anyone ever talks about. You know, I voted for you. I think everyone did," Conner smiles. "I think someone would be stupid to not."

He is a stalker. But, why? Why did everyone vote for me? I mean, I'm perfect! Everyone knows that I'm talented; you'd be blind not to se it.

"Well, I voted for you," I lie. I didn't. Obviously. I didn't even know who he was three hours ago! And, his name didn't sound Seam. So why would I vote for him?!

"No, you didn't. I'm not an idiot. If you voted for me, you wouldn't be sweating. You'd be raising your eyebrows."

"An expert in body language, are we?" I spit, slapping him across the face.

Technically, by all means, this act is illegal. And, in this point in the Games, an hour or two after the Reaping, before we've even left District 12, it would be in no way a pain to replace me.

"Don't be such a bitch," he says. "Have fun on your own. By no means will we be allies."

"You got it," I say, and he gets up and walks into the narrow hallway, that separates one room from the next.

What a way to start my Games.