A few nights ago, I had a dream that I was in the Hunger Games. I had been chosen when I was only twelve from district two. But, the weird thing about it was that I recognized a lot of the tributes of whom I wasn't supposed to know. A lot of them were famous people or friends. All of them looked really intimidating and I was sure I wasn't going to get out alive. Especially because I wasn't planning on killing anyone. For some reason, we then completely skipped all of the ceremonies and rituals; we were sent straight to the arena where all 24 of our lives were put into the hands of a few creul gamemakers.
The arena wasn't beautiful, it was just a forest that, by the looks of it, didn't have much water. I was still trying to decide wheter I should get a crossbow or a knife when the gong sounded: the Games had begun. That's when things got really scary. I was a career, of course, but I didn't know that that mean't that everyone would come after me. Then, I died and I woke up.
The arena wasn't beautiful, it was just a forest that, by the looks of it, didn't have much water. I was still trying to decide wheter I should get a crossbow or a knife when the gong sounded: the Games had begun. That's when things got really scary. I was a career, of course, but I didn't know that that mean't that everyone would come after me. Then, I died and I woke up.
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