I stood on the silver platform as the glass began to close between me and my stylist, Ember. I swallowed the lump that had been growing in my neck. Or, I tried to. It wouldn't go away. I was honestly terrified. There was a good chance I would die in the next few minutes.

My name is Jessica Spinder, and I'm 15 years old, from district 11. When my name was called on the day of the reaping, I was half relieved to finally be getting out of the hell hole we call district 11, and half really wanted someone else to volunteer, so I wouldn't have to compete. Who was I kidding? I was 99 percent hoping someone would volunteer, 1 percent glad to get out.

Why would I want to leave my family? I had a father and two little brothers. My brothers are Phillip and Roger. Phillip is 9, and Roger is 7. Mom died when I was 10, because we didn't have enough food for all of us. She gave most of her food to us, and starved to death.

As it was, we were barely scraping by. When the Harvest comes along, we don't feast like the rest of the families. We're at home packing up food for the year.

I, of course, signed up for tesserae when I turned 12, so I had my name entered four times in my first year. This year, my name was in 16 times.

I was tall enough, around about six feet. Obviously, I was stick thin, but that was because of lack of food. I had light brown skin, with poofy black hair that was pulled back in as controlled a pony tail as it could be.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The platform was sliding up. For a moment, I was lost in complete darkness, before I rose above ground.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the fourty-second Hunger Games begin!"

Sixty seconds. That's all I have. I was still blinded by the bright sun, so I used my other senses for the time being.

It was pounding hot, and dry. Really dry. I could smell dust.

By then, my eyesight had come back. I was in a canyon. There were cliff faces on either side of me. Glancing back, I could see the only two ways in and out of the crevice was straight forward and right behind me. In between me and the opening in front of me was the Cornucopia, with weapons, shelter, food, and canteens full of water in plain sight. The goodies got fewer and fewer, and worse and worse the further out you were. A few feet from me was a blowgun, a pouch full of darts, a simple medicine kit, and a bag of whatever else.

I made a split second decision. I would grab that small pile. No more, no less. Then, I would turn and run like hell toward the opening behind me.

I made the decision just in time, too, because the clock was down to four seconds left.

I positioned my feet for running, against my better judgement, toward the Cornucopia.

3

I took a deep breath and held it.

2

I leaned forward, getting ready to run.

1

I released the breath I had been holding.

Bong!