Charleigh Jaybyrd lay awake in her plump, oversized bed, pondering her life.
She'd been born to a standard family in District 12, the eldest of three children, her and her two brothers. Her mother had died in labor with the youngest child and her father spent much time in the coal mine.
She'd supported her younger brothers as best as she could since she was old enough to use her rudely crafted bow, a standard weapon because if its ease to create. She'd hunted, against the laws, and often came home bruised from the precautionary, genetically mutated creatures the Capitol had released to run off hunters.
Ever since she was twelve she'd entered her name multiple times at each Hunger Games for the food. It didn't catch up to her until several weeks ago, shortly after her sixteenth birthday, when she was chosen as tribute, along with Ryder, a boy she'd not paid much attention to until now, at which point they'd become pretty good friends. Now, the Hunger Games began tomorrow.
And Charleigh was worried.