As I'm walking to the town square, the crisp fall air doesn't comfort me as it usually would. But then again, I'm usually sitting underneath my favorite evergreen tree in the forbidden area of the forest, inhaling the smell of pine along with the air. Pines are my favorite. Yes, I break the rules on a daily basis. Yes, I could get killed daily. But I still love it. "Come ON, Rosemary!" my father says, exasperated. I quickly jolt my head up. That snaps me out of my thoughts and as I look ahead of me at my parents I realize I had started walking at a snail's pace. I hurry, now walking faster. Arbor always complains about how fast I walk, and I just laugh and start complaining about how slow he walks. I will miss him, if he does in fact get chosen. When we finally reach the cobblestone square, I have to separate from my mom and dad and get my finger pricked. It's never been too fun. When my bloody fingerprint makes its mark on the crisp white paper, I glance up. The big log town hall looms over us and I see the traditional stage and the two baskets flooded with names. I try to forget that 30 of those names are Arbor’s. I know there's an incredibly high chance he’ll get picked. And I know that he has a pretty good chance of dying if he does. A woman in a blinding yellow butterfly costume with bright blue hair greets us. She doesn't look like the same woman from last year, but I know she is. People in the Capitol change their appearance extremely often. Freaks. "I have a very special treat for us! A film, brought to you by the Capitol!" she chimed with a giggle. My mind drifts off into a daze, now and then coming back to the moment. I fidget with various things. My dress ruffles, my thumbs, my hair. I find myself fingering my rusted silver tree family heirloom necklace carved out from bark as the Capitol woman starts picking the name of the female tribute. "Ladies first!" she chirps. I try to stay in the moment for once. Maybe it's because I'm fearing that this is the last time I'll ever see my family. The woman in the yellow dress crisply plucks the name out of the clear glass bowl on the wooden pedestal. "Rosemary Fraser" she says with her high-pitched squeaky voice. My mom gasps and puts her hand over her mouth. I blink. I blink again. "Rosemary Fraser?" Now it hits me. I'm going into The Hunger Games. I start walking forward, and as I furtively glance to the side, I spot the Peacekeepers blocking the way out. So much for PEACEkeepers. They're more like ruckus-starters. I realize that all eyes in Panem are on me now, so I keep myself composed as I gently step up onto the stage. I'm sure my face expressions are causing laughs from the Capitol. “Next are our gentleman,” she says. The lady rummages in the bowl for quite a while before she settles on the one she wants. Her chunky gold butterfly bracelet gets her hand stuck in the bowl, and she looks flustered as she tries to yank it out. A few people who can’t hold in their laughs get a death glare from the Peacekeepers. I wonder what’ll happen to them if they laugh again. “Arbor Wood!” she calls out. I let out a shriek so high pitched that it makes no audible sound and my hand flies to my mouth with such force that I almost knock myself out. No. No. No. Arbor Wood cannot be right. Until I see the boy, in all of his realness, with his deep emerald eyes and gorgeous blonde hair. The one I secretly meet in the woods. The one that all of the girls in school swoon over. The one that I write poetry about under the cover of trees. We socialize there too, and eventually we’ve become close friends. But it’s a secret. I can’t do this. Fight to the death in an arena with him. I find that my eyes are glued to him as he softly but firmly pads up the stairs across from where I’m standing. I try not to tear up, so I start staring blankly at the crowd. “Now, shake hands!” the Capitol woman reprimands us. We shake hands, and I feel the warmth and good wishes being passed on to me. It makes me pull myself together and look him in his warm eyes. “Well, now we have our two tributes of the 53rd Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!” yellow butterfly woman says brightly, clapping a little. Let’s face it- no one feels bright except you. Peacekeepers wearing their white armor escort me and Arbor into the town hall building. I catch a glimpse of my dad and mom. My mom’s crying and holding her hand over her mouth in utter surprise. I am shoved into a small wooden room with only one small window. What is this place? And then I remember. It’s my last goodbye to my family. I wish I could comfort them. As I’m thinking this, I hear them enter my confinement room in the town hall. “Good luck!” my mom says, trying and failing to put together a smile. She gives me a hug. I see the tears streaming down her face and I hug tighter. Then she and my dad are grabbed by the Peacekeepers and a door closes. I let out a strangled cry. I breathe.
