I thought it was over. The fighting, the death. The war was over, the Capitol won. Surely we had gone through enough, the bloodshed, the loss.

But obviously, the war that had gone on for years wasn't punishment enough for the Capitol. One day out of nowhere, President Flare announced the Hunger Games. As punishment for our rebellion, two kids from each district were to be 'reaped', and sent into an arena to fight to the death. Only one 'tribute', as he called them, would walk out alive.

I don't know about the other districts, but District 4 descended into complete chaos. As we heard the horrific news on the screen, mothers everywhere were screaming and crying, clutching their children. The elderly shook their heads in sorrow, and the smaller children looked bewildered. We older kids just stood in shock in the square. Kill each other?

"All children between the ages of twelve and eighteen are to be present at reaping day in two days. Any child found deliberately evading reaping day will be executed immediately." President Flare booms. I'm frozen. Two days? What if I'm picked? What about Mags, my little sister, the only piece of family I have left? She's only five! She would only have the community home. We were both taken there after our parent's death six months ago. It's a good place; we go fishing in the lagoon every morning to train for our later lives. I'm quite good at it; I got three fish and a crab this morning. The matron, Meredith, is good to us all. She's kind and gentle with weary eyes and silvery hair. She braids Mags' hair every morning, the blonde hair twisted into beautiful knots. The only thing me and Mags share is our hair. We both have waist length blonde hair, but I have green eyes, while she has blue. We look very similar to the other community home kids; we are all mistaken for siblings. I realize, my heart sinking, that one day some of the kids there could lose their lives in this horrific 'Pageant of Honour'.

I stand in the line at 'Reaping Day'. There is a long table with Peacekeepers behind them. I watch the kids in front of me prick their fingers and place the drop of blood over their name. The Peacekeepers use some sort of scanner to verify the blood matches the name.

"Nerida Fairling"

I step forward in a daze, and hold out my wrist. The Peacekeeper takes my finger and pricks it with a needle. I hardly feel the pain; all I can think about is what awaits me. I hear the beep of the scanner, and the Peacekeeper nods at me. The square looks the same, stone walls, the big black screens that now show the televised 'reaping'. The only difference is the large glass balls filled with paper, which hold the names of every teenager in District 4. The district officials are seated on the stage, along with what I can only assume is a Capitol woman. I walk through the crowd and take my place in the section labelled "17, Female" No one seems to know what they're doing, which is understandable I guess. The other girls my age file through and stand in the line.

As the Capitol woman takes her place on the stage, my stomach flips and climbs into my throat. "Welcome! Welcome welcome! This is a very special day! The 1st Annual Hunger Games!"

I'm shocked to find she sounds excited, as if this is a game show instead of a cruel vicious bloodshed. "What a special day in our history! Nothing like this has been done before! Two brave tributes will take their place of honour with me today, and bring pride to their district!" The strange woman trills. Pride to our district? Place of honour? Just how badly has The President brainwashed these people?

I've never seen a Capitol person before, and am glad I haven't up until now. They are terrifying, with their pastel makeup, bright wigs, and ridiculous clothes. Their weird accents are almost laughable. The woman goes on and on, I stop listening after 'beautiful, brave sacrifice'.

I tune in again just before she says 'And now for a video all the way from the Capitol!' She gestures to the large screens that surround the district square. The sound of trumpets fill the air. A dramatization of the war begins on the screen. President Flare's voice bounces around the square.

"War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future!"

I snort under my breath. What a bunch of lies. As a nation? Just the Capitol. Generosity and forgiveness? We'll see. The country that fed, loved and protected us? I lost both my parents in that war, and they fought for what's right. I look around me to find pale faces, with no emotion. I hope no one actually believes this Capitol propaganda.

"The time has come!" The Capitol woman screeches in her stupid accent. "The time has come to select the male and female tributes to participate in the very first Hunger Games! First the girls!"

My heart leaps and joins my stomach in my throat. It beats fast, like a fishes fins against the wood of the pier. I look to the blue sky and close my eyes, feeling the crisp cold breeze brush against my cheeks. Lovely day for fishing. I take a deep breath and remind myself that my chances are slim, there are hundreds of kids in the district. I open my eyes, the woman has selected a paper. She walks to the microphone, and with every second a thousand beats hammer against my chest. She begins to unfold it, and I tell myself it's not me, it's not me, it's not me. I hear her intake of breath.

"Nerida Fairling!"