Chapter 1...
It's time for the drawing. Effie Trinket says as she always does,
"Ladies first!" and crosses to the glass ball with the girls' names. She
reaches in, digs her hand deep into the ball, and pulls out a slip of paper.
The crowd draws in a collective breath and then you can hear a pin drop,
and I'm feeling nauseous and so desperately hoping that it's not me, that
it's not me, that it's not me.
Effie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper,
and reads out the name in a clear voice. And it's not me.
It's Bulbul Arora.
There must have been some mistake. This can't be happening. Bulbul
was one slip of paper in thousands! Her chances of being chosen so
remote that I'd not even bothered to worry about her. Hadn't I done
everything? Taken the tesserae, refused to let her do the same? One slip.
One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it
hadn't mattered.
"Bulbul!" The strangled cry comes out of my throat, and my muscles
begin to move again. "Bulbul!" I don't need to shove through the crowd. The
other kids make way immediately allowing me a straight path to the stage.
I reach her just as she is about to mount the steps. With one sweep of my
arm, I push her behind me.
"I volunteer!" I gasp. "I volunteer as tribute!"
"Well, bravo!" gushes Effie Trinket. "That's the spirit of the Games!"
She's pleased to finally have a district with a little action going on in it.
"What's your name?"
I swallow hard. "Pragya Arora," I say.
"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the
glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to
our newest tribute!" trills Effie Trinket.
"But
more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Clearly
hoping to contain her tenuous hair situation, she plants one hand on her
head as she crosses to the ball that contains the boys' names and grabs
the first slip she encounters. She zips back to the podium, she's reading the
name. "Abhishek Mehra.
Abhishek Mehra!
The mayor begins to read the long, dull Treaty of Treason as he does
every year at this point " it's required " but I'm not listening to a word.
The mayor finishes the dreary Treaty of Treason and motions for
Abhi and me to shake hands. Abhi looks me right in the eye and gives my
hand what I think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Maybe it's just a
nervous spasm.
We turn back to face the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.
Oh, well, I think. There will be twenty-four of us. Odds are someone else
will kill him before I do.
Of course, the odds have not been very dependable of late.
The tribute train is fancier than even the room in the Justice
Building. We are each given our own chambers that have a bedroom, a
dressing area, and a private bathroom with hot and cold running water.
We don't have hot water at home, unless we boil it.
There are drawers filled with fine clothes, and Effie Trinket tells me
to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal.
Just be ready for supper in an hour. I peel off my mother's blue dress and
take a hot shower. I've never had a shower before. It's like being in a
summer rain, only warmer. I dress in a dark green shirt and pants.
Chapter 1 finishes here. Hope u like it. Do read & comment!!!
With loads of love,
Adah