It starts on Reaping day.

I open the heavy cardboard box and sigh. The only things tucked inside are a few packets of brown rice, two cans of soup stock and a bag of flour. Barely enough to last the month.

Tesserae has been growing smaller for the past year, and no-one knows why.

'Angelie!' My mother calls from the other room. 'Was that the postman?'

I heave the box into my arms and carry it out of the kitchen and into our living room. My mother sits on the couch, tapping away at a keyboard on her lap, and staring with glassy blue eyes at a screen on the far wall.

'Tesserae,' I grimace in reply to her quizzical look.

'I see,' she says, folding up her keyboard and coming over to kneel beside the tesserae box I have set down. She picks up the cans and snorts, then stands to inspect my appearance.

'I'm going to change,' I say hurriedly, checking the illuminated clock on the wall. It's now half-past seven. Two hours left.

My mother smiles, a little tightly, and hugs me tightly.

'You look fine.'

I'm in my pyjamas. I raise an eyebrow at her and she laughs.

'Go on,' she says, giving me a little push towards the stairs, 'get yourself in the bath. Our daily electricity is running now and the water tank is fully heated. When you've finished I'll do your hair.'

I nod and turn around, heading upstairs. On the landing I quickly glance out the window at the gray morning outside. The streets of District 5 are lined with Peacekeepers, holding guns, their faces hidden behind their visors.

I hurry up the stairs and into our large bathroom. It's deep and spotlessly clean, so I turn the taps on full. Gushes of cold and hot water splash into the tub, a beautiful blue colour mingled with the fragrant soap I now pour in.

I undress, glancing in the mirror. My brown eyes look like black holes today, the pupils so dilated from supressed fear. My freckles stick out against my pale face and arms, and my hair hangs down my back like lank, yellowing ropes.

When the bath is ready I step in, sighing at the lovely heat of it. Our district supplies power, and lots of it, so we're never short of hot water.

For a while I just lie there, thinking. I tip water over my face and hair, rinsing it as I lather soap through the tangles and over my skin. When I get out the steam rolls off my body in great waves, making me look like some beautiful monster coming out of the sea. I wrap a towel around myself and it stops, quenched.

The dress mother laid out for me is green, short, with lace around the sleeves and neck. I pull it on with difficulty, the lace scratchy against the crook of my arm where the sleeve ends. The shoes are ankle boots with green ribbon.

There's a knock at my door.

'You okay honey?' My mother sticks her head in. I nod, feeling too sick for words.

'Oh my darling,' she sighs, coming up behind me and looking at both our reflections in my full length mirror. It strikes me how tall I am compared to her, with curves and a long neck, while she's built slightly stockier and harder. A willow and a rock.

'Do you want breakfast or will you be okay?' she asks as she brushes my hair and starts to twirl it expertly through her fingers.

'I'm not hungry,' I mumble.

She says nothing as she blow-dry's my hair. When she finishes it hangs silkily over my shoulders, slightly wavy, and making me look much older than fifteen.

A horn blows in the distance.

'Let's go,' my mother says, and leaves me to go downstairs. I take a second, looking at my reflection for one final time.

You can do this.

I nod to myself and leave the room.