Hunger-Games-Arena

    It takes me a while to realize where I am standing. Center stage at the Reaping. All I can remember is a daze of that morning, getting ready for the Reaping, and leaving the house early with my mother. My father hadn't even bothered to show up, off to work without a single care just like the other passing years. Not that my mother coming helps, she gives me no words of comfort before she leaves me to go and watch what could be the death of her only son. And now here I stand, chosen from the few slips in that bowl, chosen by my fate. I don't even remember moving my feet to make it to the stage, my shock erased the memory, and all I saw ...