Author's Note: Okay, so this is my second story. My first one never really got finished because I find it hard to stay on task, but you can just draw your own conclusions. This chapter is the Reaping, and the beginning is kind of confusing because Evelyn (the main character/tribute) fainted when she was called. So I was just clarifying that. Please comment on my story and subscribe! I'm really excited and I hope I can stay on task with this one, and figure out how to get the chapters organized. THANK YOU! Also, special thanks to my sister Sarah who worked very hard to edit every chapter, and to my good friend Eli who is the first to read every chapter I release and is my main driving force to keep writing. Thanks guys!

Everything is backward. It's all spinning around me and I can't understand what is happening. My own name is ringing in my ears but not in my voice. It is in the Escort's voice.

"Was I just called as a tribute?" I dumbly ask the girl next to me. I think her name is Eva, but I'm not sure even though I've known her my whole life. I'm not sure of anything right now.

"Yes," she whispers as tears well up in her eyes. She reaches out to help me up off the ground, but I don't take her hand. I want to stay here. I want to shrivel up and die. Maybe melt into the ground.

I hear the Escort repeat my name, gesturing for me to come up to the stage. I try to gather my wits, but before I can clear all the strange colors and sounds out of my head that don't make sense, I see fingers pointing at me. All the other girls around me are pointing at me, the one who is still laying on the ground like an idiot. They are telling the Peacekeepers where I am. Turning me in. The Peacekeepers' uniforms seemingly appear out of nowhere, and I feel like I've been slapped in the face. Forget about melting into the ground! They're coming for me! Everything clears and I get up before they can touch me. No more strange colors or sounds; I'm not unconscious anymore.

"Get off of me," I say, trying to brush them away as the grab my arms in a death lock.

I step on the stage, shivering even though I'm not cold. Our Escort smiles at me cheerily.

"So, you are Evelyn Shemblr," she says, pronouncing my name wrong.

"It's pronounced Evelyn Shemblr," I say, correcting her into the mic.

"Yes, yes. Now for the boys. Just stand here, dear. I know we're all excited!" She smiles, truly happy for me. I get to be in the Hunger Games. Reaching into the Reaping Ball, she seems like she wants to torment us as we all wait to see which unlucky boy will be picked as our 264th Hunger Games District 12 tribute. We all hold our breaths, silently waiting in earnest. All the boys in the roped off area look very nervous, and I catch one young boy shifting back and forth from foot to foot, while another boy (probably his brother) holds his hand protectively. I can almost feel the love between them. I instantly know the older boy will do anything for his little brother, and that he is scared, but will be ready to volunteer if he needs to. I take in both of their handsome features, curly dark hair and deep brown eyes. Olive skin, and both wearing light blue blouses with khaki pants.

The escort keeps waving her hand around in the reaping ball.

Suddenly I spot another small boy on the older brother's other side. He looks about the same age as the little brother, and I catch the older brother holding his hand as well. But strangely, he looks nothing like the other two. Pale, blotchy skin and dirty blond hair that is thick with District 12 coal dust. He looks less nervous than the little brother, but not exactly brave either. I catch the older brother squeezing his hand reassuringly, and the blond one whispers something in his ear. The older brother nods and lets go of his hand as tears well up in both of their eyes.

I barely have time to wonder what he whispered when finally, our Escort picks a small piece of paper, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger. She looks at it for a minute before calling out, "Corvin Echo!"

The older brother that has olive skin steps up to the stage, giving me a look of sorrow, as if I deserve more pity than he does.

"Well, we are all very lucky to get to participate," says the escort excitedly. "Let's give a round of applause for our new tributes!" A quiet, shaky sound that might be clapping escapes from the crowd. I see Corvin on the other side of the escort and wonder what those two strange little boys will do without him.

After everyone says their goodbyes, we are led to the train to be taken to the capitol. I stare out the window blankly, waiting for the worst. Maybe the train will run right off the track and explode. Still a better death than one in the Games.

Suddenly I jump as Corvin materializes next to me. I take in his handsome features, wondering how he feels. No tears are in his eyes (unlike mine) and he doesn't seem shaken.

"So you are the legendary Evelyn," he says, twirling a finger in my jet black hair.

"Yes," I say, carefully taking his hand and putting it back down at his side. "Why am I legendary again?"

"You were called at the Reaping, weren't you? That makes for a good legend..." his voice trailed off.

"I guess so. I never was big for the Games," who was, anyway? "But the Capitol makes us watch, so... yeah. I hated watching everyone run around, killing each other. Not my kind of thing."

"It isn't so bad for me. I learn to live with it. How old are you again?"

"14."

"I'm 15. You know, if we're going to be partners-" he starts, but I cut through his sentence.

"Partners? Where did that come from? Look, Corvin, I'm not trying to win, I'm trying to get out before it begins. I'm not planning on making alliances, or even getting to know people. I'd rather be executed by the president himself than be killed by another child of my age! I'm not entering the Games, I'm exiting them!" As soon as I say it, I regret it. I quickly scan the room, from the purple velvet chairs in the lounging area to the mahogany dining table and wall length mirror. No avoxes, no escort, no mentor. No one but me and Corvin. Still, I'm shaky. Saying that is the kind of thing that will get me executed on the spot.

"Evelyn, I hate to break it to you, but this isn't the kind of thing that you can just back out of. I swear, I'll do anything I can to help you, but you can't close yourself off like that. You obviously aren't ready for the Games, and I can get you ready. Please, listen to me! We can do this. We can make it through! You've seen it before! Remember Eila in the 260th annual Games? No one thought she would win. But she made it through, with some help of another girl. And now she's our mentor. She is a legend, Evelyn. You should learn something from her." He took a deep breath, and stepped closer to me. We were only a few inches apart now. He was taller than me- I only came up to about his neck.

Backing off, I said, "Really, speaking of Eila, we should go find her and get some dinner. I'm hungry and if the Games are really that important to you, we should get some tips." Like that was what I wanted. Tips were the last thing I needed! All I wanted was to have someone else with me and Corvin. This was getting awkward.

But before we could go find Eila, she found us. "Hello," she said as she walked in, her golden curls bouncing as she walked. Her face was perfect- Capitol Level perfect. She had dark blue eyes, long lashes, high cheekbones, a perfect complexion, and a dazzling smile. She wore a white suit and black high heels. I couldn't help but gawk in amazement as she approached us.

"So, I bet you two are hungry!" A wave of embarrassment flooded over me. What if she had been spying on us? But that thought disappeared as she said, "I was just talking to the head chef. It's a little early for dinner, but I said he could bring in the food. I'll go get Symma and we can talk about the Games a little."

Symma? That must be our escort's name. Sure enough, a moment later, our escort appeared wearing a suit like Eila's, but it had tufts of pink feathers jutting out at the shoulders, and it was a royal blue color. She had identical feathers just at her waist, pointing down and brushing to the floor. Her high heels were much higher than Eila's, and were more like boots with heels. A neon green, so bright it was almost white, wig sat on her head, with curls that barely reached below her earlobes. I wasn't sure if this was the outfit she had worn at the reaping. I was too dizzy to notice.

As soon as the food was brought out I eagerly sat down at the dining table, but regretted it once Corvin sat down next to me. I tried to stare at my plate, knowing that I had no intention of being his "partner" in the Games. I took a few rolls and some mashed potatoes, even though I barely knew what either of them were. Of course there were bakeries in town, and you could buy potatoes as well, but all kinds of spices and flavors had been added to them to make them taste different.

As I ate, a thousand alien flavors burst in my taste buds. Sweet, sour, spicy, juicy... the list went on and on and on and on and on! Back in District 12, we could only dream of such foods! Suddenly, a sharp twinge of pain wrenched in my gut. I missed my family already. I had no brothers or sisters, but my mother and father cared for me so much. This was the reason they chose to only have one child. To protect us from the Games. But even their cautious lines had been passed. I was on the train. It was safe to say there was no hope for them now.

I glanced up to see Corvin staring at me, while Symma and Eila chatted away about how delicious the food was and how gifted they were to know such a beautiful government could take care of us, thinking we were listening. They could not have been more wrong.

Corvin put down his fork. "So, I think I'm finished. You wanna look around the train a little?" Of course our mentor and escort chose that moment to look up at us.

"Great idea!" Chirped Symma. "We will be on the train for another day or so, so you should look around a bit! Get to know each other!" I caught a spark in Corvin's eye. He had officially outdone me. I had never wanted to punch someone in the face so bad.

"Sure," I said in a bittersweet tone. "Let's."