I didn't know how it had happened. It's like he jumped on me, caught me out when I least expected it. I would have hated me being off guard anyway, it isn't something you take pride on in district 4. But I was in the exact place when you should be on constant alert for that kind of thing: The 68th annual hunger games. But no, this isn't what you think. It wasn't an attack on me. I'm still alive. I won. It was an attack on my feelings.

This is the story of the ally that I fell in love with.

"So, are you ready Zara?" asked my dad, while straightening the collar of my dress, which had been saved for a special occasion. (I guess today counted.) I wasn't, but I don't think any of us were. The reaping wasn't exactly a festivity, even in the career districts.

"Yeah, of course." I said reassuringly, as I knew that my father was more scared than I was. "And anyway, what are the odds of me being picked?" This didn't seem to help him from shaking.

My mother came in, and my father straightened up. Maybe it was the fact that he had always been a bit scared of her, or it could have been how she was so tough, but I could have sworn that she didn't look worried about me at all. In fact, there was a trace of a smile on her face.

"Todays the day!" she cried, "So, how many times are you in the bowl again?"

"4." I said, as I began to tie up my auburn hair with an elastic band.

"Just like our district! That's a lucky sign that is!" noticing how messy my hair was, she sighed and began to redo my hair, this time with a ribbon.

"There, you look much better now." She said, "But I don't know why you haven't left your hair down, you look so much prettier that way." I ignored her.

"Here," said father, holding out a piece of toast. "You need some food in you."

"Don't let her eat that Seth!" Yelled mother, whacking it out of his hands onto the table. "You know how she's such a messy eater, she'll get crumbs all over her new dress!" my father nodded solemnly, but quickly snuck it into my hand with a wink when mother wasn't looking.

"There, you look lovely now." Said mother, flattening the creases on my dress. You would have thought I was 5, not 15. "If you get picked, you'll make a wonderful impression on the capitol."

"Of course mother." I said with my best sickeningly sweet smile, not wanting to disappoint her. But when she was gone, I sighed. My mother and I were nothing alike at all. She always seemed to enjoy the games, and think of the Capitol as if it were amazing. I disagreed, and made this clear a couple times in some of my rants (Not when the peacekeepers were around of course.) my rants made me very unpopular with the people at school though, (this may also have been because I always fell asleep at school when the teachers gave their daily speech about the glory of the capitol. I thought this was a bit unfair, as our teacher's voice was so dreary that it was practically impossible to stay awake when he was talking about anything.) And at every reaping I could swear that people were silently wishing for me to be picked.

I was more like my father, with my stubbornness to be brainwashed by the capitol, plus the ability to lie through our teeth. We also looked the same, with our brown eyes, small nose and messy hair. Unfortunately I'd also inherited his badness at sports, (although I was ok at running.) and his lack of courage. I knew that if I was picked, I would probably die the first day. Unless the danger would give me an adrenaline rush. Or maybe (though it was very unlikely.) I would become better than I thought. They do say that the games will change everyone.

"It's 10 o'clock!" I heard my mother call from the next room, "Time to go!" I exchanged a glance with my father, before following out of the door. Before it closed I gave one last look around the hallway. If the odds weren't in my favour, I would never see the place again.

We walked into the town square, me holding onto my father's hand tightly. My stomach had started to feel like it was on fire, just like it did every year. I saw children doing the same, saw people nodding and smiling to each other. We all feel closer on the reaping day.

When we arrived in the square, and we were immediately required to get into order. I gave a hug to my parents. I knew that if I got picked, I'd get another chance to say goodbye, but I clung my arms around my father's neck, not wanting to go. I wanted to become 10 years younger, so I could curl up in his arms, too small to be in the reaping. But I was nearly 16. I had to act grown up, for my father's sake at least. I gave him one last smile, and made my way through the crowds of hysterical mothers (mine seemed to be the only one who enjoyed the games.) and nervous teenagers to find my best (and only) friend Mantis, a tall freckly boy with vivid orange hair, who was the only person who also hated the capitol. Or showed it. He grinned when he saw me.

"Heya Paylor, you ready?" He asked. He always called me Paylor, which is my last name. I'd always hated the name Zara, and only let my father call me it. I'd be using Paylor for so long I think everyone has forgotten what my first name actually was.

"You bet I am." I grinned back, even though I had never felt so different from that.

Unfortunately Mantis, being my best friend, he was also was the only person who knew when I was lying. "Sure you are, bet you'll be saying that when you're having a sword shoved through your stomach."

I could tell he was acting silly to take our minds off the reaping, so I gratefully played along by acting offended, "Oi! I have a chance!" He looked at me. "Ok, maybe I wouldn't." I snapped, "But you never know, the odds may be in my favour!"

Mantis laughed at my impression of Effie Trinket, our districts escort. "Oh, I forgot to say! Happy hunger games!" He cried waving his arms about. We both collapsed into laughter, despite our feeling terrified. We carried on like this, making sure to keep our voices down in case there were any Peacekeepers about, but we couldn't help attract the attention of the people around us, and a few death glares which came with it.

"Can't wait to see how funny you are when your name gets called." came a cold voice behind me. I turned to see Garter, the monstrous boy two years above me in school. He was the school bully, and part of the popular crowd. He was also my mortal enemy. "You wouldn't last 5 minutes there." He mocked.

I shrugged, "probably not. What about you though? Will you be slashing up innocent little 12 year olds as soon as the gong rings?"

Garter smirked, "well, considering I signed up for tesserae 8 extra times, I obviously want to win it."

"Until a pack of wolves jumps in and eats you." Snapped Mantis.

"Yeah right," Came the sly voice of Shiya, Garter's girlfriend and fellow bully. "And like you could do any better." She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Anyway, I bet it's me. I signed up for tesserae the first year. I'll be in it….62 times? I'm not afraid. I want the glory, same as Dana, and Katona.[Her best friends] Unlike you, loser." They turned away, laughing, and I felt Mantis sag a little. He'd liked Shiya for years now, despite her mean attitude. I was about to give him my usual speech on how he didn't deserve her, and how he was a great guy and all that stuff, be the sound of the Mayor coming on stage interrupted me, so I did my best to be understanding by patting him gently on the shoulder.

The mayor gave his speech on the rise of the games and the reason why they were created. It was the same every year, so I wasn't surprised when he himself looked bored. While he was talking, I whispered to Mantis, "I hate them. You know, sometimes I wish that I would be picked, just to spite them." I'm joking of course, because when Effie hopped on stage, wearing a blue tweed jacket and silk skirt, her trademark pink wig fixed in place, I'm terrified. "Welcome everyone!" she cried in her usual voice, as if today was her birthday and Christmas all wrapped into one. "Happy 68th hunger games!" I felt the corners of my mouth twitching, and could sense Mantis' doing the same. "This is all so exciting! Well, let's not dilly dally, it's time to pick our tributes for District 4!" she moved towards the bowl with her usual smile, and cried out, "ladies first!" her hand froze over the bowl. "And may the odds be ever in your favour!" I wasn't laughing now. 4 may not be a big number, and this was a big district, but there were still 4 pieces of paper with my name on it that bowl, 4 chances to be picked.

Effie scrambled around the bowl, taking her time, while we all waited in agony. She finally grasped a slip of paper, and held it out to the audience. She unravelled it, while walking to the mike. I could hear my heart beating as fast as lightning. Mantis' hand found mine and squeezed it, but I barely noticed it. Please don't be me, please don't be me-

"And, our newest female tribute for district 4 is…." The crowd gasped. Parents clutched each other in fear. You could hear a pin drop. Just say it you stupid woman, you're killing us all, please just say it, and please don't let it be me-

"Is….." Please…

Effie reads out the name. People gasp. People cheer. People cry out in relief.

Because my wish has come true. It's not Dana. It's not Katona. And it's not Shiya.

It's me.

Please read and review! It's my frist time writing so i'd love to hear what you think! Try and guess who the male tribute will be! My next chapter will probably be in around 2-3 days, so stay tuned!

Love Lucy