"I think they take place in the future," Finnick admitted. Embarrassed, he didn't meet eyes. He could get the story out if he didn't look at the others, but if he glanced up, he was worried he might lose his nerve. "There was a war. The winners forced the losers into Districts, which provided resources to the Capitol. Indentured servitude, basically. And every year, as a reminder of the rebellion, the Capitol would hold the Hunger Games."
Okay. Now how to explain the Games in a way that wouldn't make him sound like a sociopath? "To get the participants everyone in the District, age twelve to eighteen, is entered in a lottery. If your name comes up, you have to go unless someone of the same sex volunteers to take your place. Then you're shipped into the Capitol and you fight to the death on television. People in the Capitol watch because they find it entertaining. People in the Districts watch because they have to, because it keeps them frightened and reminds them that they're powerless. Twenty-four kids go in. One victor comes out."
Finnick chanced a glance up. "I know. I know how it sounds."