Hunger Games 1

Chapter 2 Draw Day (2)
On the way home, we passed some iron frames, where we played on the swings.Once a warehouse for coal storage, it is now a black market.Later, people used a better method to transport coal directly from the mine to the station, and only the iron frame remained in this place.During the harvest season, most of the business has ended at this time, but the black market business is still quite lively.We easily traded six fish for good bread, and two for salt.Gracie Se, a skinny old woman, often sells hot soup from large jugs.She exchanged half of the wild vegetables from us, and we exchanged two large pieces of wax from her.It's slightly cheaper to do business with other people than with her, but she's the only one who always buys dingo meat from us.We don't kill dingoes on purpose, but we only kill one or two occasionally when we are attacked by dingoes, which makes sense, anyway, meat is meat. "Once the dog meat comes out of the pot, I call it beef." Gracie Sai blinked her eyes as she spoke. No one in the "crack zone" can move their nose away when they smell the delicious dog meat.But those security police are more picky.

After the black-market deal, we went to the back door of the mayor's house, intending to sell the remaining half of the strawberries, which we all knew he loved and could afford.March, the mayor's daughter, opened the door for us.She is in the same grade as me at school.Since she's the mayor's daughter, people think she must be a snob, but that's okay, she's just discreet and doesn't socialize much, much like me.Since neither of us had many friends, we were able to spend a lot of time together at school, eating together, sitting next to each other at assemblies, and playing sports as partners.We also rarely spoke to each other, which suited our personalities.

Today she has swapped out her drab school uniform for an expensive white dress, and her blond hair is tied up with a pink ribbon.Well, this is a beautiful dress to wear to a Harvest Festival ceremony.

"It's a nice dress," Gail said.

March glanced at him at once to see if he was really complimenting her or mocking her.This skirt is indeed beautiful, but she would definitely not wear it normally.She had closed her lips tightly just now, but now she smiled. "If I'm going to the Capitol, I'll have to look pretty, don't I?"

Now it's Gail's turn to look confused. Is what she said true?Or deliberately fool him?I guess it's the second possibility.

"You're not going to the Capitol," Gail said coldly.

As he spoke, his eyes fell on a small round pin on March's skirt. It was real gold, handmade, and very delicate. This pin was enough to feed the family for several months. "How many times have you registered on the harvest record? Five? I registered six times when I was 12 years old."

"It wasn't her fault," I said.

"Yes, no one's right, it's just the way it is," Gail said.

March put a smile on his face.She put the strawberry money in my hand, "Good luck, Katniss".

"You too." With that, the door was closed.

We walked back to the Gap in silence.I don't like Gale's sarcasm about March, but of course he's right.The harvest system is unfair and the poor always get the least.According to regulations, anyone who reaches the age of 12 has the right to harvest.In that year, the name was registered once, and when the 13-year-old was registered, it was registered twice, and so on, until, in the last year of seven consecutive years of registration, it was the same for all twelve districts of Panem.

But the problem is that for poor people like us who are starving, their names are allowed to be registered multiple times in exchange for food stamps. The food equivalent of one food stamp is equivalent to the grain and oil allotment in poor harvest years, and every family can do the same.So at 12, out of necessity, I had registered my name four times, the first time, it was mandatory, and the other three times, got three food stamps for me, Prim and Mom.In fact, we have to do this every year, and registration is cumulative.So now at 16, my name has been registered twenty times.Gail, on the other hand, has been supporting a family of five on his own for seven years and his name has been registered 42 times.So it's not hard to see why someone like March who never has to risk getting food stamps would piss him off.Compared with other people who live in the "sandwich", her name has a low chance of being registered.Not impossible, just low.Even though the rules were Cappy specific, not District [-], and certainly not the Marches, it was hard not to hold grudges against people who didn't have to register for food stamps.

Gail knew in his heart that he shouldn't be angry with March.Sometimes in the woods he'd complain loudly that food stamps were a tool for causing misery to the people of District No. 12.Doing so sows the animosity between the poor and the rich and powerful in the "Sandwich," making it impossible for them ever to trust each other. "Break us apart so the Capitol can reap the benefits," he'd tell me when he was watching nobody.Oh, if only it hadn't been harvest time, and March, who wore a gold brooch and didn't need food stamps, hadn't said those things--I don't think she said them on purpose--that would be nice!
Walking down the road, I glanced at Gale, who was still sullen.Although I never told him, it seemed to me that his anger meant nothing.It's not that I think differently from him, I think the same way.But what's the use of shouting in the woods about the Capitol?This can't change anything, can't seek fairness, and can't fill the stomach.In fact, it scares away prey around; but I still let him roar, which is better in the woods than in District [-].

Gail and I split the remaining two fish, some good bread, some wild greens, a quart of strawberries, some salt, paraffin, and a little money.

"See you in the square," I said.

"Dress nicely," he said flatly.

When I got home, I found my mother and sister were ready to go.Mom was wearing a beautiful dress she had worn as a pharmacist's daughter, and Prim was wearing what I wore during my first harvest season—a small skirt and a ruched blouse.She was a little too big, but Mom had pinned her up.Even so, the back of her top was bulging.

A tub of hot water awaits me.I scrubbed dirt and sweat from the woods and even washed my hair.To my surprise, my mother took out her favorite dress for me to wear, a light blue dress that matched the shoes very well.

"You really want me to wear this?" I asked, trying to refuse her offer.For a while, I was so angry that I didn't want her to do anything for me.But she put me in this dress today, which is really special, because my mother cherishes the clothes from the past.

"Of course, come on, put your hair up too," she said.I let her towel dry my hair and put it up.When I saw myself in the broken mirror against the wall, I couldn't recognize it.

"It's not like me," I said, hugging Mom because I knew the next few hours would be scary for her.Her first Harvest Ceremony, which was almost harmless, she only participated in once, and I didn't let her get food stamps.But she was very worried about me, afraid that the most unpredictable thing would happen.

I've been doing everything in my power to protect Prim, but there's not much I can do for her when it comes to the Harvest ceremony.When I think of her suffering, my heart is very painful, and I can't help showing it on my face.I noticed her top was coming out of her skirt again and I forced myself to stay calm. "Put your tail back, duckling," I said, smoothing out the top for her and tucking it back.

Prim giggled and softly gave me a duck "quack."

"Crap your head," I said with a chuckle, only Prim could make me laugh. "Come on, let's eat." I said, kissing her lightly on the head.

Fish and wild vegetables are stewed in the pot, and this is our dinner.We decided to save the strawberries and toast for dinner.We said to ourselves, let's make dinner special.We drank goat's milk from Prim's goat called "Madame" and ate rough bread baked with food-stamp grain.

At one o'clock we walked towards the square.As long as they are not dying, everyone must go.At night, officials will check from house to house, and if they do not show up without a reason, they will be thrown into prison.

Too bad the Harvest ceremony was going to be held in the square, really, one of the few pleasant places in the [-]th.It is surrounded by shops, and if it is a public market day, especially if the weather is good, the square is full of festive atmosphere.But today, even with the flags flying from the rooftops, there was a grim air in the air.The photographer perched on the roof like a vulture, adding to the feeling.

People lined up and walked silently forward, signing their names.Harvest rituals are also a good time for the Capitol to count their heads. Teenagers aged 12 to [-] were driven to an area surrounded by ropes. Outside were middle-aged and elderly people. The oldest stood at the front, and the younger ones, like Prim, stood at the back.Families stand on the periphery of the ropes area, hands held tightly together.There are also some people who have nothing to worry about at this time of life and death, or simply don't care, just mix in the crowd, betting to see which two children will be selected.Some bet on the age of the chosen ones, others on whether they came from the "sandwich" or businessmen, and others on who would break down or cry first.Most people don't want to be taken in by scammers and are very, very careful; and these same people could be whistleblowers as well.Who hasn't done anything illegal?I could be executed every day for hunting.But the lust for prey of those in charge protected me.Each person is different, in the [-]th district, there are all kinds of people.

Anyway, between starvation and a shot in the head, Gail and I figured we'd choose the shot, since it's so much quicker.

The square was very crowded, and more and more people came, it was suffocating.This square is huge, but not big enough to accommodate the population of about 8000 in the 16th district.Latecomers were directed to stand on the side of the street where they could watch live on national television.I stood among a group of [-]-year-olds from The Seam.We greeted each other with a small nod, before focusing our attention on the improvised stage in front of the courthouse.There are three chairs on the stage, a podium, and two large glass balls, which are used for the drawing of lots for male and female players.I stared at the slips of paper in the glass balls for the girls' lottery. There were twenty of them with "Katniss Everdeen" written neatly on them.March's father, Mayor Andersey, a tall, balding man, sat on one chair; on the chair.Her hair was pink, she was wearing a baby green suit, and she was smiling with white teeth, and her smile was creepy.They murmured something in low tones, then looked uneasily at the empty chair.

The town clock struck twice, and the mayor stood up, walked to the podium, and began to read the opening speech.Every year.He told the history of the country of Panem, a place built on ruins that was originally called North America.He counted the various disasters suffered by this country, including drought, storms, fires, sea water that swallowed up a large area of ​​land, and cruel wars that devastated people, until he finally established the Panam Kingdom that brought peace and prosperity to the people—— A kingdom of thirteen districts with the Capitol as its sacred center.But a dark time came, and riots in various districts opposed the rule of the Capitol.As a result, twelve districts were defeated, and District No.13 was destroyed.New laws were enacted in the treasonous treaty to keep the peace and to remind people every year that this dark history should never repeat itself.According to the new law, the "Hunger Games" was created. The rules of the game are very simple: as punishment for the rioters, each of the twelve districts selects a male and female teenager called a "tribute" to participate in the game.The 24 players are locked in a huge outdoor arena, which has a variety of terrain and climate conditions, from hot deserts to frigid wastelands.Over the course of several weeks, all "tributes" must fight to the death, with the last survivor being the ultimate victor.

Take children away from their loved ones, force them to kill each other, and make us watch.This is how the Capitol reminds us of the "gift" they bestow.And the children's chances of surviving in the chaotic fight are so slim.

No matter how eloquently they speak, there is only one meaning, "Look, we can take your children and make them sacrifice with their own lives, and there is nothing you can do. If you dare to raise a finger, we will It will destroy you, there will be no one left, just like we wiped out Area No.13."To further torture and humiliate us, the Capitol also asked us to treat the event as a festival, as a sport pitting the districts against each other.The last survivor can go home to live out the rest of his life, and his or her district is rewarded with various rewards, mostly food.Throughout the year, the Capitol would show off the various gifts awarded to the winning districts, including food, oil, and even delicacies such as sugar; while the remaining districts had to struggle with hunger.

"This is a time for repentance and a time for thanksgiving," the mayor read in a monotonous, long voice.

He then read out the list of previous District 74 winners.We've only had two winners in the last [-] years, and only one of them is still alive, and that's Haymitch Abernathur, a middle-aged man with a big belly.At this moment he walked up to the table, complained indistinctly, and then sank down on the third chair.He was very drunk.The crowd gave a symbolic applause, but he was still dazed, and went up to give Effie Trinket a strong hug, but she wanted to push back but was powerless to refuse.The mayor looked unhappy.The scene was being broadcast live, and District [-] would also become the laughing stock of the entire Panem country, and he knew this very well.He quickly switches to introducing Effie Trinket to quickly draw attention back to the Harvest celebrations.Effie Trinket, still as breezy as ever, walked quickly to the podium to signal the start of the festivities, "Happy Hunger Games and good luck!" After the hug, her curly hair was slightly tilted to one side.She said some more things like it's an honor to be here, but everyone knew she was upset about it because the winner of the district happened to be a drunk and let her out in front of the whole country ugly.

In the crowd, I saw Gale looking back at me with a secretive smile.It was kind of funny when he laughed like that during the Harvest ceremony.But then it occurred to me that Gail and his 42 notes were also in the big glass ball, and that the odds weren't very good for him compared to the other kids.Maybe he thought of me the same way, his face suddenly darkened, and he turned his head away. "But there are thousands of other notes," I really wanted to tell him.

It's time for the draw.Effie Trinket said, as usual, "Ladies first!" and walked over to the glass ball with the girl's name on it.She reached in, all the way to the bottom of the ball, and pulled out a note from inside.The crowd held their breath, and at this moment even a needle dropped on the ground could be heard.My heart is also churning, desperately hoping that it will never be me, not me, not me.

Effie Trinket walked back to the podium, smoothed the note, and read it in a clear voice.

The name she pronounced was not mine,
It was — Prim Everdeen.

(End of this chapter)