Chapter 1: Forgiveness is a privilege, not a rite

I finished tying the lace of my dress as I stared into the old crooked mirror in my parent's room. I picked up a brush to fix the unruly brown curls topped on my head.

"Don't," Felicity said, entering the room wearing a small blue dress that I had passed down to her. "You look beautiful."

I smiled in spite of myself. Today was not a day to be smiling. Today was a day of devastation and woe. Once the tributes were chosen, we could all breathe in relief or weep in pain. Only then, would I know my fate.

I mechanically followed Felicity back to the living room where my mother and father waited. Mother was dressed in a beautiful white gown that she wore to all special occasions, and my father, looking strong even in his wheelchair, wore his favorite of two suits. My mother's face brightened when she saw me cross the threshold in the dress she had made for me.

"Oh, honey," she said, wrapped her arms around me in an embrace, "you look amazing."

"Thank you," I whispered politely, but only to please her. At the moment, I felt no emotion. No, my body felt numb. I needed to know who would be chosen.

A knock on the door signified our companions. As I was still in my mother's arms, Felicity opened the door and welcomed the Gregories inside.

Martha Gregory and her husband Rene stood in the doorway looking as amazing as always. Somehow, even in a place like district twelve, they managed to look as young as anyone in the Capitol who had had surgery after surgery. Dana, with her silky red-brown hair and wondrous blue eyes, looked like a princess in her dress. Her brother, Matthew, looked just as stunning with his similar features.

My mother pulled away from me and wiped the tears from her eyes. I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was remembering what had happened three years previous. "We should get going," she said, trying to force some excitement into her voice.

Matthew took my hand as we followed our parents out. "You look wonderful," he whispered, low enough that neither of our sisters could hear.

"Mmhmm," I mumbled, glancing around at our surroundings.

"I know you're scared, Trina, but you don't need to worry," he whispered, lightly kissing me on the cheek.

I wasn't worried. Unbeknownst to my family and friends, I had been seeking the day that I was accepted into the hunger games, ever since what had happened three years before. If I had been selected, I would show every district that they couldn't mess with me. Of course, now that I was seventeen, I was running out of chances.

I can't remember much of what happened once we arrived. Actually the only thing I really remember were a few of the words that were said.

"Rodney Salazar…"

"Trina Lachlin…"

"May the odds be ever in your favor…"