Reaping Day, my heart beats fast at the thought of it. Butterflies fill my stomach as I try to eat my meager portions of bread. My mother silently helped me step into my faded, green dress made of scratchy material. We left the house in silence, my brother holding my fathers hand in terror. The Hunger Games can bring fear into the most joyous of people.
In a foggy daze I found myself walking towards the section with the people my age. The heat and smell of sweat coming from the tightly packed bodies was nauseating. As the brightly colored women got up to read the names my stomach was clenching into knots. “Ladies first.”, she said cheerfully, “Juliet Sparks!” My palms were sweating as I walked to the stage. It was me. I was the one to be hunted for the Capitals entertainment this year.
Megan, you really added great details into this piece! I loved the descriptive words you used to make me feel like I was truly there. Great work!!
I Loved how descriptive this narrative was. “The heat and smell of sweat coming from the tightly packed bodies was nauseating” This helped me, as a reader, understand what you were feeling as you stood among the crowds. the only thing you could correct is switching between past and present tense. This would be a fairly easy fix, I cannot wait to read another piece of yours!