Quarter Quell- Prologue

I wake up in the middle of the night, out of my mind with fear. I don't know what I'm afraid of. But I'm terrified.
"Mother," I gasp, "mother..." My voice seems to echo around the empty house. "Mother..." I whisper.
I sit up in bed and look around. "Mother?"
I tear out of bed, I'm tangled in my bedsheets but not letting that stop me. I'm now on my knees at my mother's bed, but it's empty.
I force myself to my feet and walk to the door.
I ease the door open and look out into the street. "Mother?"
I see her. Talking to someone. Begging to them.
"Please," she sobs. "Please. Poplar can't help it... please..."
What are they talking about? And then, it's like a smack in the face. I think back to the program from last night, mandatory viewing.
"As a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, this year, on the first Quarter Quell, we will vote for our tributes," the President had said.
My mother is out begging people not to vote for me.
"Can't help it? She steals, Lota. Poplar is a fully capable girl, and instead of working for food, she steals it."
"She doesn't know what else to do! Please! How can you be so cruel? How can you wish this on anyone?" Mother sobs.
"Lota. Lota, we have to vote, and..."
"And my daughter is the only child you wish dead!"
"We have to vote, Lota..."
"Why? Why do we have to vote?"
My mother's voice has risen to pained screams, faces are appearing in windows.
I'm frozen, still hanging onto the door.
All I can think is, I'm going to die.