The dark side of the world

Attendance is mandatory unless you are on the verge of death. Tonight, officials will go house to house to check. If someone has lied, they will be thrown in jail or, worse, killed.

Jacob walked calmly towards District 12's square, where the selection of tributes for the Hunger Games would take place. Despite his apparent calmness, his heart was pounding in his chest. He knew that the fate of his life was about to be determined in that very place, and the worst part was that it was by his own doing.

He could very well choose not to play the Hunger Games and die of old age in this world, with the possibility of living in a better world if he survives the future war led by the prominent figures of this world.

Upon reaching the square, he joined the crowd of anxious young people. Jacob looked around, recognizing some familiar faces from his district. He knew there was a possibility that he could be chosen, and that kept him constantly on edge.

The reaping is also the perfect opportunity for the Capitol to keep track of the population. They lead the children aged twelve to eighteen to the designated areas, separated by ropes and divided by age, with the older ones in front and the younger ones at the back.

Family members line up around the perimeter, holding onto each other tightly. There are also others, those who have no one to lose or no longer care, who sneak into the crowd to bet on who will be the two chosen tributes. Bets are placed on their age, whether they will be from the Seam, the poorest area of District Twelve, or if they will collapse and burst into tears.

Jacob glanced at an old bearded man in the distance and nodded in response. Getting his confirmation, the old bearded man nodded and sneaked in to place his respective bet. This old bearded man was one of the leaders of the rebel group to which he belonged, and right now he was betting that Jacob would volunteer as a tribute, thereby benefiting the cause he himself was redirecting to a different future.

At this moment, if Jacob were given a choice between dying in the future war or dying in the Hunger Games, he would definitely choose to die in the Hunger Games as a tribute. The last thing he wanted was to die out of fear where it accidentally takes place.

The square was gradually filling up, and the crowd reminded Jacob of festive events at his school, although it only caused him a stomach ache to remember all the events that brought him here. With over eight thousand people, it was truly a large enough number for some people to feel suffocated.

Those who arrive last have to stay in the adjacent streets, where they can watch the event on screens since the State broadcasts it live.

The registration process began as the Capitol officials took their positions on the stage. Jacob stood in the line corresponding to his age, seventeen years old. He watched as the participants' names were written on small slips of paper and placed into an urn. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he impatiently waited for his turn.

When his moment came, Jacob approached the desk and presented his identification. The officials verified his information and looked at him seriously. A brief pause seemed endless as they reviewed the data.

"Jacob Barber..." The official pronounced loudly, echoing through the square. Jacob looked at the official with a strange tense smile on his face, and many of those in the queue focused their eyes on him.

The official continued with the routine procedure, checking his age and ensuring that he met the necessary requirements to be chosen as a tribute. Once they were certain of his eligibility, the official marked his name on the list and handed him a small identification card.

Jacob stepped away from the desk and rejoined the group of young people. The reality of his situation began to sink in. Now he was one more in the urn with many possibilities of being chosen, even if he didn't volunteer as a tribute.

Everyone was possibly breaking out in cold sweat; after all, who wants to be chosen for televised games where the chances of winning are practically zero? Each game is different from the previous one, and many of the games bring new things that kill the tributes in different ways when the games begin.

At this moment, Jacob stood among young people his age, and all of them, at least those who knew each other, exchanged stiff greetings before immediately looking ahead.

Since Jacob had no one to talk to, he focused his gaze forward and observed every detail that passed before his eyes.

The temporary stage they have built in front of the Justice Building is really quite simple. There are three chairs, a podium, and two large round glass urns, one for boys and one for girls. Jacob looked disinterestedly at the pieces of paper resting silently in each urn, where there should have been many papers with his name, at least seven of them.

Suddenly, two of the three chairs on the stage are occupied by Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket, the escort from District 12, who has just arrived from the Capitol with her special white smile, rosy hair, and a spring green outfit. The two murmur to each other and look with concern at the empty seat.

Seeing this woman who looked identical to the character in the movie he had watched, Jacob felt a somewhat empty familiarity. It's really strange to see people who are exactly like the characters that he used to consider as mere fiction just a year ago.

Right as the clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read. It's the same story every year, talking about the creation of Panem, the country that rose from the ashes of a place once called North America. He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the rising seas that swallowed up much of the land, and the brutal war for the few resources that remained.

"Damn yellow propaganda. They would get a terrible review from me if it were possible..." Jacob muttered, earning the glances of the people beside him.

Jacob knew the next rules very well, or at least what they meant in simple words.

The rules of the Hunger Games are simple: as punishment for the rebellion, each of the twelve districts must provide one boy and one girl, called tributes, to participate in the games. The total of twenty-four tributes are locked inside a vast outdoor arena where anything can happen, from scorching deserts to icy wastelands. Once inside, the competitors must fight to the death for several weeks; the last one standing wins.

"Worse than the dictators in my world..." Jacob murmured as he analyzed in depth what each district had to endure. Sending your children, friends, or loved ones to the games as a simple punishment for a rebellion years ago is truly terrible.

But for the Capitol, it serves as a reminder to everyone of their subjugation, and that any rebellion they attempt, which they cannot sustain, would result in their destruction like District 13. What's even more horrifying is the manipulation of the audience.

The Hunger Games are presented as televised entertainment, but there is subtle manipulation of the audience. The event organizers shape the stories of the tributes and manipulate the narrative to generate sympathy or revulsion towards certain participants, playing with the emotions of the audience and, in one way or another, making them participate.

The last surviving tribute is rewarded with an easy life, and their district receives prizes, especially food. The Capitol gifts cereal and oil to the winning district throughout the year, and even some delicacies like sugar, while the rest of us struggle not to starve.

"It is a time for repentance, and also for giving thanks," the mayor recited like a puppet being manipulated by long hands over his head.

"Rot in hell, you bastard!" Jacob couldn't contain his words, knowing that no one around him would betray him.