My name is Eve Xeni. I am 16 years old. My home is District 12. My name has just been selected to be the female tribute from my district in the 74th Annual Hunger games. The chances of my survival? Non existent.

My head snaps upwards. Effie Trinket stands on the stage, holding my name in her palm. Her heavily framed eyes scanning the crowd below her, looking for any signs of Eve. The people surrounding me turn their heads to look at me with sorrow in their eyes, giving away my location to the Peacekeepers, who march up to me within seconds.

Their hands are rough. I can tell that even with the sleeves of my dress covering my upper arm.

"Come along, Miss." One of them hiss in my ear, tugging my arm forcefully out of the crowd and into the path that separates the males and the females.

I'm cooperating, so I don't understand why he's cutting my circulation off my left arm. Surely the fact that I'm limping clears up any confusion as to if I'm going to run away or not.

Seeing my face on a large television screen is a weird sensation. It hangs on the roof of the justice building, and it's contents are switching between the crowds reaction to my name pulled from the reaping balls, to my face this very second as I walk up to the stage, where Effie awaits me with an outstretched hand. The Peacekeeper to my right seems to notice my limp and helps balance me while I struggle up the few steps until Effie reaches for my hand and pulls me to her, when her free hand wraps around my shoulder.

"Congratulations to Eve Xeni from District 12! Now sweetie, take a seat by Mayor Undersee, that's a good girl! Now, to see who shall be the lucky young man to represent District 12 beside Eve this year!" Her voice is squeaky and almost abnormally high pitched for a woman of her age. Even her age is probably deceiving, who knows what she gets injected and shoved into her face to appear younger..

The small walk she takes to the male's reaping ball is long enough for every thought imaginable to run through my head. Each thought more worrying than the last. My hands play with the thick strip of material tied around the waist of my dress.

It's bad enough that my existence will cease to exist within a week, but why does somebody else from my district also have to lose their life? Isn't one enough for them? Why does The Capitol need more devastated families than already exist. Another family will be burying their child in the meadow within the following weeks. Their beautiful child will arrive back in the district, but not as a victor. They will arrive cold and pale. In a wooden box. Other families across the district will visit them, making sure they have the strength to continue. I can't even begin to imagine the pain parents must feel this time of the year. I hope it is a feeling I'd never have to experience.. Now that my name's been selected, I don't need to worry about that any more.

A perfectly manicured hand dives into a sea of folded paper. A few moments later, she's back in front of the microphone, her long fingers fumbling with the name in her hand. Painted pink lips curving into a smile, voice booming over the microphone.

"Peeta Mellark!"

I'm on my feet within seconds. My leg protests and threatens to collapse under me, but I refuse to allow that to happen. I must seem weak enough as it is. Mayor Undersee comes to my aid and wraps his arm around my shoulder to give me some support.

"No!" A strong voice calls out, when I realise the voice was mine. Usually it's timid, reluctant, nothing like what just came out of my mouth. Many eyes are glued to me right now, as are the numerous cameras I'm sure. The eyes that are not staring at me are watching as a blond haired boy makes his way up to the stage. I feel physical pain growing in my chest at the thought of Peeta being up here with me, but my nightmare becomes reality all too quickly. He's up standing beside me within the minute, his arm wrapped around my waist, relieving the Mayor of his duty to hold me up.

"May I present to you, Eve Xeni and Peeta Mellark, this years tributes from District 12!" Her voice sounds like a loud, blurry squeal to me, nothing more. A small applause is heard from the crowd despite them shaking their heads. Peacekeepers form a square around Peeta and I before ushering us through the large wooden doors of the Justice Building,

I'm glad I was chosen rather than someone younger, someone weaker than I. The chances of a 12 year old child surviving is extraordinarily low. They're seen to be insanely weak so from the instant they're reaped, possible sponsors take no interest in them unless they get high training scores which is unlikely.

As for Peeta being reaped, I'm devastated. On the first day of school, I remember sitting by myself in the lunch hall, when he approached me and took a seat next to me. From that day we've been inseparable. We're close friends but nothing more despite most of the District thinking otherwise, though. Peeta and I be competing for our lives in a few days, and neither of us are guaranteed to come home. I'd do anything for him to return as victor, he deserves it.

PEETAS POV

What were the chances of both of us being reaped? I couldn't imagine either of us being reaped let alone both of us. I look at her; she's looking straight ahead, but she doesn't seem to be concealing tears. She's keeping a brave face and I know it.

I watch her as she wobbles, her bad leg and foot won't do her any favours in the arena and I hope there's something they can do for her when we reach The Capitol in a few days. I 'll help her as much as I can though, that's something I promise right now. I'll be by her side the moment the countdown by the cornucopia reaches zero and we'll manage together, I won't let anything or anyone hurt her.

The peacekeepers direct us into separate rooms to say goodbyes to family and friends. Luna turns to me with panic rising in her eyes, so I embrace her in my arms to calm her down. "I'll see you soon, don't worry." I tell her, causing her to smile before being led away down the winding corridor.

The room isn't what I expected. I imagined it to be basic with a few chairs, but it is the complete opposite. Two large sofas sit in the middle of the room, my body sinks into the plush material when I sit. A large bookcase covers an entire wall, and natural light streams in through a large open window behind me. If I think this is extraordinary, what will the Capitol have to offer?

My father brings me back to reality, sobs tangling in his throat.

My mother stands behind him, arms crossed and seems to have no intention of speaking with me. My brothers stand by the doorway, waiting.

"Hey, son." Tears rise in his blue eyes. I'm proud to say this is one attribute I was lucky to receive from him. He steps towards me and pulls me close to him as he mutters inaudible words.

"Oh leave him be!" My mother snaps, "He's going to be fighting for his life in a few days, last thing he needs is to be pampered!" I can hear her tapping her foot. I knew she was always impatient, but even she can't seem to spare a few minutes before her son disappears to The Capitol.

My father releases me and wipes his face. "Here," He reaches into his satchel and brings out a brown paper bag "Cookies. I know you always liked them. They were left over from the bakery this morning so I ran back to get them." His voice is kind as he places the bag in my hand. Thanking him I place the bag down on the seat.

"That Eve's going to be hell of a dead weight to you. Leave her to fend for herself, alright, boy? Don't have anything to do with weaklings like that. You'll last longer that way." She always disgusted me but that was a vile comment to make. Eve was always lovely to her despite how horribly my mother treated her.

"I'll do what I want, okay?" Trying to keep my voice calm right now isn't easy, but I manage to do so. To this my mother simply shrugs and heads out of the door, pushing past Matt and Thom.

"The devastation's written all over her face, Peet, don't worry. You just gotta dig deep through those wrinkles to find it." Thom smiles while making his way over to me, with Matt following close behind. Only they could joke at times like this and genuinely make me feel better.

EVES POV

The way the Justice Building looks from the outside is nothing compared to the inside. The outside blends perfectly with the rest of District 12; Gray, seemingly abandoned and beyond repair. The inside is no reflection of this. It is beautifully decorated. I'm reminded of last winter when I would go outside barefoot just to feel my feet sink into deep snow, similar to the thick white carpet under my feet. Bright red walls surround us, paintings hang every so often, all of the Capitol. They show me what I can expect in two days, when the train will arrive in the station and I will officially be in the custody of The Capitol.

A peacekeepers hand on my back signals me into a room to my left, where the door is shut behind me. I take short steps until I reach a plush, large sofa, taking in all my surroundings. The floor is made from a shiny wood, as is the large book case that covers an entire wall behind me, books fill every shelf. Natural light floods in from a large window, making the room feel more open and comfortable. I sit across the sofa, outstretching my injured leg to comfort it, when the door bursts open.

Gale.

Before I can even move, he's sitting beside me and pulling my head into his lap, so I'm looking upwards at the ceiling. His eyes come into view.

"If I could have volunteered for you myself, I would have. I wanted to take Peetas place, too.. For once in my life I wished the reaping was extended to 19 year olds." His hands are lost in my wavy hair sprawled across his lap, something he only does when he's vexed.

My hand searches around beside my head and finds his hand. I entwine my fingers between his gently, pulling it to my lips and holding it there for a few moments before releasing his hand.

"Even if you had come home as victor, I would never have forgiven you for doing something so stupid. Think about Hazelle, little Posy. They need you to hunt, especially since I haven't been able to help you lately because of my leg." I sigh. "And hey, I might come home, you never know!" Even I know I'm lying to myself, and Gale can tell instantly.

"Yeah, if one of the other tributes volunteer to carry you around the arena themselves." I see his eyes roll, so I nudge my head into his stomach to show him I saw.

"Way to crush my dreams!" My voice is full of laughter, then I wonder how Peeta is coping with saying goodbye to his friends and family.

"I just.. I just wish that Peeta could come home. If I could sacrifice myself right now to guarantee his return, I would. He has more of a chance of winning, anyway. I'd never cope with being a murderer, Gale.. The aftermath would be too much for me to handle and I know it. I'm used to killing squirrels and birds because I've had to-"

"Survive?" It's true. I've had to for many years, or by now I'd be nothing but a shell.

"Exactly." His voice has gone low all of a sudden. "You've killed animals to survive. The arena is no different.." Trailing off, I realise he's being truthful. I killed animals to ensure survival, to live. It's exactly what I'd have to do to a person to prevent them from possibly taking my life in the arena. I'd have to watch as they died at my hands, their family hundreds of miles away with shattered lives and hearts. I shake the thought away, tears forming in my eyes.

"I don't know if I could do it, Gale." The words catch in my throat, I'd be surprised if he understood what I just said.

"Do what it takes to come home. You would be just as strong as any of the others, only your leg gets in the way sometimes. But it's the Capitol after all, I'd be surprised if they couldn't fix it up for you. Even with an injured leg, you're mentally stronger. You've been starving, you can look after yourself. Careers? They don't know what hungry is. You can use a bow and arrow like nobody I've ever seen, your arrows never miss a single target once you have your eyes set on it. You've lived the arena life for 16 years, it will be no different to you. You can come home, I don't doubt that for a second." His body's tensed up, eyes transformed from being soft and careful to hard and serious. "Please come home?" I feel like I'm watching somebody beg for their life at his last question. How do I respond to that? What feels like an hour passes before I respond.

My voice has transformed into a whisper "I will," closing my eyes, "I'll make sure of it, Hawthorne." Rough yet gentle hands move my head from his lap, as he lies down beside me and faces me, his hand finds its way to my waist, fingers tracing undefinable shapes.

I glance up at the large clock that hangs by the window; We have 30 minutes remaining together. I don't think I'll have another visitor after Gale, but I'm not sure about Peeta. We lay in silence, my hands mindlessly playing with the buttons on his shirt while his hands can't decide if they should play with my hair or continue tracing fingers over my waist.

"Your hair's a strange colour. Have I ever told you that?" Hearing his voice break the silence makes me laugh, especially with such a strange question.

"Many times, actually." I retort, snacking his hand away from my hair. I sit up and comb my hair with my fingers, removing all the knots Gale had formed in my hair and toss it behind my back. My hair flows in waves down to my waist, a shade of ginger uncommon for my District. I often get teased about it. Gale makes jokes, but they're never hurtful. Then he feels guilty and admits he actually adores my hair colour and was only joking.

"Hey, I love your hair. You know I'm only joking." He looks at me pleadingly.

"I do." I smile back.

I'm glad we're talking about my hair rather than awkwardly wishing me luck, making me promises etc. I prefer it like this, it feels natural.

Gale pulls me and almost lifts me somewhat, placing me on his lap again. Only this time my eyes are level to his.

"You know every tribute is allowed a token from their District, right?" I nod, "Well, I want this to be yours." His hand fumbles with his own before removing a gold ring from his finger, and sliding it onto my own, a surprising fit. A smile erupts on my face, knowing this ring means the world to him.

"Gale, I can't!" I say to him. As much I mean it, I also hope he lets me keep it. Otherwise I'd have nothing to remind myself of him, or the district while I was gone.

"It's yours. I want you to look at it and think about me, okay? I want it back when you're home, though." Gale really does have a way with words. He's comforted me when I thought it wasn't possible, this being one of those moments. My arms wrap around his neck, my lips plant themselves on his cheek to thank him. Not just for the ring or coming to visit me, but for being a friend for many years to me.

The arrow on the clock is dangerously close to signalling the end of our time together, and we spend the rest of it in silence. Everything is out in the air between us now, nothing left unsaid.

"Thank you, Gale. For everything." Our noses are almost touching, foreheads pressed tightly together. Even for me this is intimate, but I'm okay with it. Today, anyway.

I hear the door handle click, and I know our time is up.

A man in a white body suit takes the place of where the door once was, and signals Gale to leave. The body suit the Peacekeepers wear look like shells with helmets.. It's strange.

He stands up and I join him, and we both embrace one final time. He takes a deep breath before releasing me, planting a small kiss on my forehead before turning away.

"I want my ring back, don't forget, Eve." Is his last playful comment before the door is shut, and I'm left to think back at everything that just happened in the last hour.

I sit in silence, admiring the golden band around my finger, when the door opens to reveal a very smiley Effie, closely followed by a guarded Peeta. Her large pink wig seems to have shifted, but I make no comment about it as we're quietly led out of the back door of the Justice Building, into a car where we make a quick, and again silent journey to the train station where we're greeted by a crowd of men mostly holding large cameras and microphones. Effie murmurs something about no comments being made, and we're swiftly led into mechanical doors of the train.

What do you think so far?! I loved writing this chapter, and look forward to begin writing the next one.

Please let me know if there's anywhere I can improve or change my writing so I know for future chapters. Any questions or ideas/requests you have for the next chapters, I will happily take into account if left in a personal message or a review. Thank you so much for even reading this, but please leave me some form of feedback, whether it's complimentative or constructing criticism, every message is highly appreciated!

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