I own nothing. I've got a lot of ideas for this story, and I guarantee you it's going to be nothing like all the other stories you've read about Gale and Madge entering the Games.

Remember this is fiction. so I don't want any comments saying moronic things like 'you idiot, read the books Gale and Madge don't go into the Games'. Yeah I know moron, that's why this is called FAN FICTION. if you don't like it the door is - that way.

Gale Hawthorne had just thoroughly pissed me off. His snide remark, with that evil glint in his eye told it all. He hated me as much as I hated him.

"Well if I go to the capital, I want to look nice don't I?" I say, baring my teeth at him just a little.

"What can you have like 5 entries? I had that at 12." Hawthorne said.

"Actually Hawthorne, the children of Capital officials living in the districts are required to enter one time to each entry for whoever has the most entries in the district. It's what the Capital believes is fair." I say to him, putting my hand on the door, ready to slam it in his face.

It was true; I had 49 entries in the pot today, the same amount as the 18-year-old boy from the Seam who lived in the orphanage. He entered every year for himself and the 6 children that followed him around like baby ducks to mama duck. 49 entries, that was more than Gale, that bastard didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

I watch as Gale's face falls, filling momentarily with regret and dismay, he shuffles from one foot to the other, clutching the basket of strawberries in his hand, he glances at Katniss, who remains quiet but she's staring at me, eyes wide with shock and before either of them can say anything I pluck the strawberries out of Gales hand, shove a few coins into Katniss' hand in exchange.

"Good luck Katniss," I say to Katniss, giving her a big bright smile, acting as if I didn't just tell one of my best friends that there's a very real possibility I'll be going into the Games.

"You too Madge," she manages to mumble out, the shock on her face falling now to confusion, the beginning sparks of anger invading her eyes. She turns to leave, but Gale doesn't move when she moves, and he just stares at me for a few more moments, before I sigh loudly and glance at my wrist as if to see what time it is. I'm not wearing a watch but his eyes travel to my wrist just as mine do and in the split second that his eyes are off me I shut the door in his face.

I shove the strawberries into the fridge and head over to the piano. I actually kind of hated this thing, I'd rather learn to play something like the guitar or even the drums, but my father insisted that I play the piano. So I learned to play at a young age, was sort of a prodigy at it but it's not who I was inside my soul. But, I had time to kill now, and my mother was passed out by the constant morpling drip so she was in no danger of waking up anytime soon.

I sit there for a little while and allow my fingers to tap out a melody that sounds familiar but I'm to distracted to pay attention.

I played for an hour or so, killing time basically and when I looked up at the giant grandfather clock in the corner, I lazily close the lid and head out the door.

The walk is short and before I know it I'm standing in line behind Hawthorne and his little brother, Mini Hawthorne.

I really hated the guy, in this moment, right here right now, I wanted to kick the back of his knee, making him buckle but I restrained myself, smoothed down my dress and put on a stupid Mayors daughter smile and stepped forward when the two of them were finally done.

Hawthorne hadn't once glanced in my direction and I was terribly glad for it. I move over to the 16-year-old section and basically just ignore everybody and wait for possibly my name to be pulled.

Finally the Reaping starts, Haymitch tries to give out hugs, my father speaks, there's some sort of horrible whining sound coming from the pink haired cartoon character on the stage, then the obnoxiously loud click click of the orange shoes then silence.

It's suddenly eerily quiet, while everybody in the entire district holds their breath while pinked haired woman pulls the name out of the bowl and walks back to her microphone.

She stands there for a second, making us wait, I'm already out of oxygen. Then she reads it.

"Madeline Eleanor Undersee!" she calls.

And the wind is knocked out of me, I can see the people around me talking, their mouths moving, but I swear I've just gone deaf and I stand there for a moment, shocked, the world spins, the silence echoes in my ears and suddenly I'm being poked in the back, I turn and see an annoyed peacekeeper standing there poking me with his asp.

I finally find myself walking, taking step after careful step climbing the stairs and walking the length of the stage to the platform I was supposed to stand. I get there finally and gazing out on the entire district, watching me very closely, my hearing suddenly comes back when the electronic screeching of something to my right hits me.

"Your wig," I mumble.

"Yes Madeline do you have something to say?" Effie implores me.

"Your wig, it's askew." I say a little louder this time, speaking into the microphone that she's shoved into my face.

The whole district chuckles, Effie turns red and I turn to face the district. I scan the crowd while Effie rushes to the side of the stage and fixes herself before coming back, giving me a dirty look and continuing on to pull the males name now.

She sashays over to the bowl and unceremoniously dunks her hand in and yanks out the first thing she feels.

"Gale Hawthorne!"

Oh, just my luck. I think to myself, not only am I going to die soon, I have to put up with Hawthorne for the rest of my life. I let out another exasperated sigh when he joins me on stage and I block out whatever happens next until I hear that it's time to shake hands, and I reach out, grabbing his hand and giving him a quick hard shake before dropping his hand and turning back to the audience.

Now we're being shepherded into the justice building to say our last good byes to any loved ones and the hour is up so quickly that it makes my head spin.

Seeing my father was terrible. He actually cried, and when I asked him where my mother was, he just bawled even harder. Finally, he hugs me tight, kissed me on the forehead and said he loved me, then disappeared forever.

Katniss came to see me also, stepping forward without a remorse and hugging me so tightly that I could feel myself breaking down against her. I wanted to cry, but when she pulled away from me and I saw the tears streaming down her face, I told her to not worry about me, and wiped away her tears and too soon she was ripped from the room and I was all alone.

Now I sat in the overly plush car, on the way to the train station, I glance to my left and I see pink wig sitting next to me and over her overly large ridiculous cotton candy pinkness I see Hawthorne, and he's staring at me.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you staring is rude?" I ask.

"Yes." He deadpans.

I scoff in response and turn back to the window, staring back at the people that were staring at me.

They look somber, and I feel angry.