How Are We, Let Alone Love, Supposed To Survive?

It is the last school day before the reaping.

Four years ago my cousin, James, was reaped into the Games and never came back. That had been expected though, the chance of someone surviving the Games is one twenty-fourth. Ever since James was reaped my mother refused to let me get tessera. I'm sixteen now so my cousin's fatal reaping was my first. I had my name entered twice when I was twelve, three when I was thirteen, four at fourteen, five at fifteen, and now six this year. Only six is quite low for a 16-year-old here in District 12 but nevertheless, this year I'm extremely uneasy. I can't help but feel something terrible will happen.

"Percy!" snaps my obnoxious teacher, bringing me back to Panem from my thoughts.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat?" I ask.

"I asked, what was the game changer of the last Quarter Quell? And stop tapping your finger on the desk!" she responds, obviously annoyed. I hadn't even noticed the tapping. I get kind of restless. Oh yeah, another reason I can't stop thinking about the Games is because we are learning about the history of the Games, just as we always did the last school day before the Reaping.

"There was twice as many tributes," I tell her.

"Nice for you to answer a question right for once." As if I could forget any aspect of the game that ruined the lives of those close to me. "Now who can tell me who the victor was of that special game?"

Annabeth Chase raised her hand. She is the class genius, maybe the smartest person in the entire school. Not only is she extraordinarily smart, she is beautiful. She has gorgeous blond hair that falls just below her shoulders. Her eyes are a stormy gray that I have just gotten lost in. I only got caught staring at her once though. At least I think it was only once. Maybe twice. We hang out sometimes but not too much. We're friends but not very close. I've been trying to get the courage to ask her if she wants to go outside of the fence for a bit with me but I've never succeeded. Everytime I try to talk to her about it my mind goes blank.

"Annabeth?"

"Our very own Haymitch Abernathy," she says with a smile as if dismissing the fact there were forty seven other tributes in that game that weren't as lucky as him. As if James wasn't one of them.

"Very good. Class dismissed! Good luck everyone!" my teacher declares. I'm glad she hadn't made us read anything this class. Whenever I read the letters get mixed up. Its impossible for me to make them into words and sentences unless I had extreme concentration which doesn't come often. I think Annabeth has the same problem but she works very hard and it isn't so obvious. I can tell from the scrunched up look on her face that reading doesn't come easy to her.

With the upcoming Reaping still in my mind, I leave the classroom.

* * *

I'm trying to spend as much time with my mom before the Reaping as possible. Last night I had terrible dream.

I'm standing in the middle of a field. The field has not a patch of dead grass, the sky is a deep blue and there is not one cloud in the sky. I can hear birds chirping far off in the trees so far from where I stand. It is hot but not so much I have sweat pooling on my forehead. The field is ordinary in almost every way but somehow breathtaking. There is an array of weapons around me but I know I can only choose one. I look around at the bow, the knife, the spear, the hammer, the sword, the ax and plenty of other weapons. They are lying across sweet green grass, it is a nice peaceful field. Why are there weapons here? It doesn't seem right to have such instruments of violence disrupt the calm scene. For some reason, I walk to where a trident lies. I pick up the weapon and all the other weapons seem to just... dissolve. Right into the air. All of a sudden I realize there is a raging river breaking the feild in half. It is not such a peaceful scene anymore. I stand there confused. Where did the river come from. And then there are people behind me. My mom, my aunt, my uncle, James, my other cousin, Christina, my best friend, Tyson, and the smelly kid who is always trying to hang out with Tyson and I. That kid's name is Gabe. Everyone there I care deeply about, except for Gabe. Why is he here? I try to ask the others what is happening but I cannot speak. My mouth is sewn shut. A large figure appears in front me but none of the others seem to be able to see him. The apparition looks like a middle aged man with black hair much like my own there is a District 4 kind of essence about him. He took one look at Gabe and grimaced as if he smelled a rotting corpse. "He is so.. so... human!" the man exclaimed, "No wonder it took so long to find you! Now, we need to test you." With that he disappeared just like the weapons had. An ageless, genderless voice came into my head Save them, Percy. Keep them safe. The river exploded. Now, it was more like a sea, its violent waves racing toward us. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAVE THEM? SAVE US? I couldn't. I didn't know how. Maybe I could have done it but I gave up. I had no confidence that I could so I didn't. The waves enveloped us. For some reason the water didn't drown me. I looked through the salty water and saw everyone else was unconscious, maybe dead. Except Gabe. He was holding on for all he was worth. His cheeks were big like a chipmunk's. His face, his expression, was painful to look. I knew in those moments he felt like his head was about explode, literally. Then, like me, he gave up. His expression returned to normal almost... calm. Then it dawned on me, it was this boy that stopped this terrible event from happening sooner. I wish I had been able to tell him how thankful I was but I couldn't. They were all gone. How I wished I could have given that boy more credit.

That was not the first time I had that dream. The first time was a few nights before my cousin was reaped. Although, the first time I had the dream, it was less detailed, less deep, less remembered. It was less intense. This time, I won't be surprised if I am the one to be reaped. My mom would be all alone if I was sent to the Games. I need to spend as much time I have left with her as I can. Because you never know how much time you have left.

* * *

I look in the small mirror one last time before I have to leave the house. My midnight-black hair is neatly combed for once. I am wearing the nicest shirt and pants my mother and I could afford when I had my first reaping. I glanced into my sea green eyes wondering if I would ever see my face in the same mirror ever again. If I would ever see my bedroom, my house, my mom happy again. The Reaping has not occurred yet. I have not yet been Reaped. The odds of my named being picked are slim, I should not be worried. I can't help though. It seems as if I'm already homesick even before I've left home.

* * *

I am shaking. I am standing with the other boys my age and the Reaping is about to commence. My heart is skipping beats and I am worried I will just barf over everyone. I shift uncomfortably, wondering what my mother is thinking. She is probably thinking there is nothing to worry about. There's no way I'll be reaped.

A woman walks to the center of the stage. She has long curling orange hair and loads of orange makeup. Effie Trinket. It is always interesting to see what she decides to wear each year. She goes over introductions before moving onto the actual reaping. The large glass bowl of girls' names is below Effie's hand. She draws a slip of paper and moves to the microphone. She straightens the strip and clears her throat. And the unlucky female tribute is...

"Annabeth Chase."

I am a bit disoriented at first. Annabeth? Annabeth!?! My heart ached for her, the girl I admired from afar. The girl whose immense knowledge would be wasted on a stupid game. The girl who could have amounted to everything will now probably amount to nothing at all. I hope this is what the signs meant, that it was not me to be reaped, it was the girl I thought I loved, the girl I thought I may have had a future with. Annabeth. My friend.

Annabeth has taken the stage. Now Effie is moving on to the boys' pool of names. My heart is frozen. I cannot think. The audience is silent. The moment Effie dips her hand and picks a slip seems to drag on for hours. A shriek breaks the silence just as Effie's hand is right above the glass bowl with a piece of paper between her fingertips. The shriek startles Effie just like it did the entire audience and she jumps. The slip of paper flutters back into the jar. I turn and see the shriek came from a little girl, probably 3 or 4 years old. She has curly blond hair and gray eyes. Her name is Amber and she is Annabeth's sister. I guess she has just comprehended what has happened to her sister. The child is being calmed down and Effie collects herself. This time, the drawing is much faster. I can tell Effie is annoyed from her sharp movements. And now for the male tribute.

"Perseus Jackson."

My throat swells and tears burn in the back of my eyes. Everyone stares at me. I walk slowly to the stage and I would later find out that in reality I had moved rather quickly. The next hour is a blur. Images of seeing my mother crying and worried faces of everyone I know well are merged into one and that is my only memory until the goodbyes.