Clove I

I am volunteering today. I am going into the Hunger Games. I am going to win the Hunger Games.

My parents are both victors, but they don't care about anyone who isn't. And that includes me. They say that everyone is shamed until they have proven themselves, and apparently the only way to prove yourself is to win the Games.

That's just one reason I'm going in. The truth is, I am born to kill. Not even my friend Perrine knows the exact way to hold a knife the first time she's touched one. No one else has ever rivaled my skills in knife throwing. Not even Cato Harding, who everyone admires and envies for his strength, stamina, and weapon skills. He's good with spears, swords, maces, those sorts of things, but he's hopeless at throwing knives, and archery too. One of the only ones in the training center I can't beat as if he were made of paper. More like made of the stone that our district mines. Just as strong, too.

I'm nearly at the square now. I am wearing a plain green dress, but it's clearly a fancy material. There's a necklace too, but it's just a gold chain with nothing on it at all. I've never particularly liked jewelry, but it feels kind of compulsory at the Reaping.

Here. I quickly sign in and file into the fifteen-year-olds' section. Perrine's coincidentally right next to me, and that Daphne Stoker is separated from me by just two people. Ooh, how I wish I had a knife! I want to drive it into Daphne's neck, blood spurting out, hot and sticky, as she tries to scream but is drowning in her own blood, dying in pain and misery as I laugh and glory in her agony!

Of course, that won't happen. I don't have a knife, and the Peacekeepers would shoot me, most likely. But who cares, because Clio, our escort, is at the female tributes' Reaping ball!

"Perrine Elestren!" Clio calls out, her voice ringing across the square.

She's waiting until she's seventeen to volunteer, so I yell, "I volunteer as tribute!"

At the same time as Daphne Stoker.

Finch I

Today is the Reaping. My name isn't in there many times, but enough for me to worry. I am already at the square, signed in and in the designated area for my age. I turn and attempt to find Laurel's face in the audience, but I can't see her.

Laurel is younger than me, at nine. But, of course, she does know that the Reaping and the Games mean death, and has been scared of them as much as any little kid.

I return my gaze to the stage where Aurelia, the District Five escort, is approaching the female tributes' Reaping ball, wearing a scary smile that is too big for the face of any normal human being.

I can't look up there. I avert my eyes, staring at the ground. I clench fistfuls of my pale blue dress that is more gray now. I feel faint, and I'm trembling. My chest is weighted, like my heart has been replaced with a stone. I know without looking that Aurelia is groping around in the glass orb filled with names of the prospective tributes.

"Finch Crossfly!" Aurelia exclaims brightly.

I nearly fall over in dread and terror. I take a shaky breath as I slowly trudge through the path that everyone clears out for me.

Clove II

We snap our heads around to glare at each other, but I'm the one who attacks first. I lunge at the girl, and ram her in the chest, driving the wind from her body. Daphne stumbles back a few paces, but near instantly she regains her breath and her head streaks towards my throat.

She's kind of obsessed with Enobaria, one of District Two's most famous victors. Daphne wants to follow in her footsteps by copying that throat-ripping move. Daphne has watched the Sixty-Second Hunger Games recap so many times, replaying the scene where Enobaria uses her teeth to rip out the throat of her victim, trying to perfect the attack style.

I sensibly get my neck out of there, because those training hours paid off on Daphne's fang skills. She punches me in the back of the head, and it snaps forward as the girl tackles me to the floor. She grabs my gold necklace, pulling on it in an attempt to choke me.

I rear up and throw her off, right into a Peacekeeper who grabs her by her wrists and wrenches her arms behind her back. Daphne's still clutching the necklace in a death grip, it got ripped off when I threw her off. I turn and try to charge her, but a second Peacekeeper comes at me from behind and gets me in the same hold that Daphne's in.

I am struggling to get at my rival, but to no avail. The Peacekeeper's grip is iron.

"You're in," the he mutters. I quit fighting him, and I smirk in triumph as Daphne screams in outrage when her captor tells her the same news.

I'm in. I stride up to the stage, and Clio inquires for my name.

"Clove Anderson," I announce proudly. I'm in.

"Lovely! Now for the boys!" Clio is at the boys' bowl, and she calls the name, "Dixon Norbeck!"

He's not that strong, thirteen and puny even for his age. He's the one I recognize just for leaving with a black eye every day. No need for him to worry, because a split second after Dixon's name is read, Cato volunteers.

Lucky me. Cato Harding.

Finch II

I try to breathe deeply as I tread carefully and slowly as I walk up to the stage. I am somehow able to control my ragged breathing as I make my way up there.

I am going into the Hunger Games. I am going to die. There is no chance of me winning, none! The starting gong will be the cannon that marks my death. My stare is blank, and I am finally able to locate Laurel. She is staring up at me, terrified, and the stone in my chest seems to gain a thousand pounds as I meet her eyes. She knows what the Games mean, and what my role in them is to be this year. She knows what death is.

"Bravo, round of applause!" trills Aurelia.

Not a single person claps. No one in Five ever does.

The escort purses her lips in slight irritation in the crowd's refusal to applaud. Then she forces a bright smile as she hops over to the boys' orb of names, and pulls out the name. "Darren Almandier!"

I don't recognize the name, and I don't care. He has dark hair, and his eyes are narrowed permanently. He's my age, but about two inches taller than me.

Darren and I shake hands, and neither of us say a word.

Clove III

We shake hands, and I narrow my eyes at him. He'll be a difficult obstacle, much harder to kill than anyone else. We enter the Justice Building, then are steered in opposite directions. I wait stiffly in the room, wondering if my parents are even going to bother visiting me. For some reason, they do. At the same time, though-wouldn't want to take up time.

"You're going to win," Mom says. I blink in surprise; this is the most encouraging thing she's ever said to me. "Even up against Cato, you can do it. You've always been amazing at knives, more amazing than I thought anyone could be with a weapon. Knives take skill-skill you've got."

Dad never speaks much, but he does now. "We do care. I just never knew. Not just about your skill at knives, but about you. I wish I knew I felt this way before now, we can catch up when you win." I notice the 'when' is said with pride and confidence.

I don't say a word to Cato as we get into the car that will take us to the train. The ride is dull and boring, but I keep myself entertained by imagining torturing the tributes.

We soon arrive at the train, and I enter without taking much in. Don't get distracted by the fancy stuff, I tell myself. You're here for one reason only: To win the Hunger Games.

Finch III

I hug Laurel. I don't care if there are cameras on us-are there? I forget-I just do it.

"Come back, okay?" Laurel mumbles.

Oh, I want to! But I won't. It isn't possible, but no need to let her know that. "Okay," I say, although it's a lie. I don't like to lie to her, I don't want to do this to her! How will she survive without me? I got us food, not much but enough, when I was too little we nearly starved, died, but we got through it, I want to get through this too, but we won't. I'm going to die in the arena, Laurel's going to die without me, all gonna die, all gonna die... I try to keep them in, but the tears come. Flowing down my cheeks in miniature rivers, I don't care if anyone's watching, I'm just letting them come. They come. And come. I wonder if they'll ever stop.

I don't see anything as we ride to the train station or as we get on the train. I'm letting Aurelia and the Peacekeepers take me wherever, but my mind is nowhere.

I am going to die.