I breathed deeply and slowly. We are headed for the first Hunger Games of ten, twenty, thirty years. My father squeezed my hand. A month ago it had been revealed that the games would begin again, before I had only heard stories about it. And apparently my mother and father were once tributes in the game, twice. As you can see, they survived both times and at the same time they went into war against the Capitol. And won. President Paylor ruled Panem a while, maybe fifteen years before Cross took over. Paylor was a good president, fair and nice. Cross is the exact opposite; just the games are an example of that.

We have arrived at the square and I'll have to let go of my father's hand. The Peacekeepers has been taken back and they chase me into an enclosure near the stage. All around me my classmates and friends stands. The escort Les Woodcomb steps onto the stage, a middle-aged man with brown-gray hair that is said to have been the escort for District Four in the previous games.
"Welcome, welcome!", Les shouts out over the crowd. "Shall we take the ladies first, perhaps?" He says soon after, and walks without an answer over to the glass globe with all the female participant's name in. He fumbles around a bit before he gets hold of a patch, quickly he goes back to the mike and unfolds the little white slip of paper. I take a deep breath, swallow hard and sincerely hope that it is not me.
"Primrose Everdeen!"

I can feel my eyes open wide and the mouth open slightly. What are the odds that I am elected, the first year the games are back again? I'm also one of the few who had only one ticket. Was it really an accident? If I'm in the games, it surely will bake then more exciting, since both my has parents survived the games. Or maybe this is the Capitol's way of punishing them for taking down the Capitol? I do not know, I do not really care . I have been elected and there is nothing to do about it.
"Primrose Everdeen!", I hear again and realize that I haven't moved in any way, I've just been standing there in exactly the same spot. I begin to move towards the stage in stiff, mechanical movements.

I go up on the stage place my body a little distance behind the escort, who has not moved from the spot in front of the mike. I feel like a robot, actually.
"Primrose Everdeen, named after your aunt?" Says Les and gives me a quick glance.
I nod easily. I have never met my aunt; she died before I was born. Long before, when the rebels still were trying to overthrow the Capitol.

Les change the subject to whom the male champion will be and go with quick and nimble steps away to the other glass globe.
"Maxie Valentine", he cries out. All the attention is directed quickly towards a tall and masculine guy in the fold for eighteen year-olds. What really makes him a man, and not a guy. Almost a bit ironic how his name is Maxie Valentine, it sounds as if he would be a twelve year old, frail little boy to me. Which he definitely is not, quite the opposite?

At first he looks actually pretty scared, but quickly regains his unreadable expression that you usually see him have. I myself get a little scared. Sure, all my life I have had enough food to eat and I got better chances than the most people in our district, but I don't have much muscled and I'm quite small. He is also three years older than me, which gives him an advantage.

Maxie comes up on the stage and stands beside me. He stands perfectly still while the escort goes back up to the microphone.

"You are probably wondering who will be the mentor for these young kids? Since we have not had any games for many years it will be the surviving winners from the previous games that'll be the mentors of this year, "says Les.

It takes a while before I understand what he means and figure out who the living winners are. Then I realize it, the living winners are my parents.