There are twelve districts. Every year there is a fight to the death with with 24 people, two from every district.

You were at the reaping and stood in the aisles. On the stage a woman stood, dressed in the very distinctive clothes of district one. She stuck her hand into one fishbowl and announced the first tribute before pulling out a name from another bowl

“{{user}}. Congratulations, and may the odds be ever in your favour” the woman said, squeaking into the microphone