A/N: My name is Katniss Everdeen. I'm eighteen years old. My home is District Twelve. It was destroyed and rebuilt. I was in the Hungers Games twice. I tried to lead a rebellion. The rebellion failed. The districts were reorganized and we are going to be forced to participate in the 76th Hunger Games. There's nothing left for me to lose. And at this point, there's no reason to try to win.
"And what if we don't win?"
"The next Hunger Games are going to be really interesting."
I severely wish I hadn't asked that question, for here we are now, at the reaping for the 76th Hunger Games. And all the girls and boys of my broken district are here hanging on Effie Trinket's every word. She's up on the stage, shaking fiercely, stuttering into the mic. She looks so uncomfortable on the podium as she playfully condemns us for our failed attempt at a rebellion that resulted not only in the destruction of District Twelve, causing the Capitol to have to rebuild and reorganize, but also our minuscule population. It's actually sad how few of us are left.
I look around me at the boys and girls forced into the square. Most faces are unfamiliar. A vast majority of the people who surround me are from District 13, which now officially no longer exists. I saw it get destroyed with my own eyes. It's not just one of the Capitol's tricks. I know it's really gone this time.
There is one face I find in the crowd that's far from unfamiliar. Peeta Mellark. He's smothered between a bunch of other boys but they somehow manage to give him a noticeable amount of space. I can imagine why. No one wants to set him off, not after he's been hijacked. Which was my fault.
I can see why he tried to strangle me.
I know a few of the girls. Most of them old classmates who I never really spoke to. A girl from Gale's year, another from me and Peeta's. A few I only encountered in the hallways, and hadn't even spoken to. Delly's face is in the crowd. But Madge's isn't. Neither is Prim's.
Both, dead because of me.
The list of people who's deaths happened in vain is tremendous. Finnick, Boggs, Prim, Madge and her family, Peeta's family, Cinna, Glimmer, Rue, Thresh, Clove, Cato, Marvel, a handful of people from District Eleven, hundreds from Twelve, most from Thirteen, thousands from the seventy-five previous Hunger Games...
The girl on fire has started a huge flame she can't contain.
And because of me, this list is only going to grow longer.
I suppose my mother might be added to list is she was of more value to me. She and I don't speak much anymore. Not since Prim died. There's nothing to say to each other. Whatever relationship we had died with Prim. It's a bittersweet victory knowing that the only way people can be safe is to not interact with me. Which obviously puts Peeta at the top of a very long list of people the Capitol will want to kill because of me.
To calm my nerves I try to distract myself. I remember when I used to think simple thoughts to myself when I first suffered from my concussion, so I do the exercise they used to force my to do in District Thirteen and think of the smallest things before letting my mind wander.
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I'm eighteen years old. My home is District Twelve. It was destroyed and rebuilt. I was in the Hungers Games twice. I tried to lead a rebellion. The rebellion failed. The districts were reorganized and we are going to be forced to participate in the 76th Hunger Games. There's nothing left for me to lose. And at this point, there's no reason to try to win.
I think of my promise to Snow to try and calm things down. I should have done it. I could have. The rebellion was a mistake. These Games are going to be nothing short of impossible. The second I get into the arena, Snow is going to have something prepared for me. Either the biggest alliance of Careers turned against me or perhaps mutts designed specifically to hunt my DNA. Maybe he'll blow me to bits the second I run off my starting plate.
The possibilities are endless.
And I know as Effie's blathering on and on to kill time that this reaping was unnecessary. She's trying so hard this year, even more than my first Games when I was convinced she wasn't right in the head. She's beating around the bush for no reason. We all know the failed Mockingjay and the boy with the bread are going into the arena again.
I try to clear my head, perhaps devise a way to make sure that Peeta is safe this time. That we can make sure he wins these Games like he should have two years ago and that I lie dead, cold and unmoving, to ensure his safety. I think it should startle me that the only way I can keep Peeta safe is if I'm six feet underground. It doesn't. Two arenas. A failed rebellion. The deaths of my father and sister. I'm far too numb for anything to really shake me anymore.
Effie is still talking but she eventually stops herself and says she has special news. And I roll my eyes at this because that cannot be anywhere near as pretty and glittery as she makes it sound. I know how the Capitol works. More importantly I know how Effie works. As much as she means well, she is terrified of what her people will do to her. And that only means trouble for me.
"For the 76th Hunger Games, I would like to announce that the reaping system will be different. These tributes were hand selected by out very own President Snow." I'm tempted to walk to the stage once she says that. It's painfully obvious that my name is going to be called, so what is she waiting for? I'm getting impatient.
"Ladies first," Effie reminds us as she clears her throat. "Our female tribute, Katniss Everdeen."
What a surprise.
I make my way to the stage and stand, looking out to the crowd. I should've died in my first Games. Or even the Quarter Quell. There is absolutely no reason why I should be up here now, preparing for another Hunger Games. It almost makes me laugh. Maybe Peeta and I are setting a record. Surely no other tributes have survived this many Games.
I scan the crowd until I lock eyes with Peeta and he gives me a pained expression. He must know what's coming next. He has to. Could the Capitol really have him so brainwashed he doesn't remember his reaping? I highly doubt it. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he's terrified out of his mind. Maybe he's seeing those shiny memories he explained to me. Maybe he thinks I'm a mutt again. Or maybe he knows Snow wants us dead and he's out to slay us both.
I'm standing still as can be as I await the inevitable. I wait to hear Peeta's name being called. There's silence for a moment. Effie gives me a quick look, almost remorseful before she speaks into the mic and I prepare to see Peeta directed toward me. But it's not his name that's said. Peeta Mellark wasn't chosen to participate in the Hunger Games. For a moment I think I can relax. Peeta is safe and that's all that matters. The boy with the bread is no longer on the Capitol's hit list. But then the name that was called registers in my head and I nearly lose it. There's a reason why Peeta isn't my district partner this year.
It's Gale Hawthorne.
