Summary: Ten years later, the 84th Hunger Games, Katniss must help two more tributes try to survive, with Peeta, and Haymitch; dreading to do so. But this year she thinks maybe things will be different, maybe the female tribute Cerise Gorman will win.

A/N: will change between Katniss' point of view and my OC occasionally.

plz R&R

Katniss POV, introduction.

I feel a familiar sense of unease as I climb aboard the tribute train that will be taking us all to the Capitol. Ten years later and things are still relatively unchanged. Every year the Hunger Games are held, and every year since I won I have to be a mentor to the two tributes from District 12. The only thing that makes this reoccurring situation any more bearable is that I am not alone. Along with me are Peeta Mellark, and our own previous mentor for the Games, Haymitch Abernathy. This is my eleventh time being on the tribute train. Surprisingly enough the second time was more terrifying than the first.

That first time on board, when I had been the female tribute of District 12, I'd been more focused on not showing any weakness to the cameras as I got on the train. Not to mention worrying about my mother and younger sister Prim, and also in awe of the train itself. But the second time I'd had to ride the train into the Capitol had been a very different experience. Sure I wasn't the tribute that time so I didn't need to worry about impending death, but it was still awful. As soon as I climbed on I had a terrible feeling of panic and had to constantly remind myself I wasn't the one about to face death. Then there was the fact of the tributes.

The girl was 15 and the boy was 14. Both were so frightened and upset, with no hope at all. I tried to be encouraging but there was no denying they wouldn't make it back. One just as scrawny and gangly as the other, snivelling and crying, with no real fighting skills, neither had hunted before. Not to mention they didn't particularly seem to want our help. They didn't ask any questions and barely listened to what we told them, already have given up hope. That was when I realized why Haymitch had acted as he had to Peeta and me in the beginning; too many years of having tributes unwilling to listen or do anything to help themselves. Every year so far they've all been the same. Then you have to go and watch them die. Even though you know it's not your fault you can't help but feel guilty, thinking if only you'd done something different they might have made it.

The three of us walk through the familiar corridor. Effie Trinket has already taken each tribute to their chambers. To her dismay she never was assigned to another, more preferable, district. I feel a light nudge to my arm and turn to look at Peeta beside me. He's giving me a knowing glance and a grim smile.

Here we go again. Another year, another pair of dead tributes. At first I had hoped Peeta and me both winning would change something, but it hadn't. The Games still go on every year. Always the same, always 23 people dead; all pretty much just children. All of a sudden there's a thought flashing through my mind, along with the image of this year's female tribute for district 12. Maybe things will be different this year. Perhaps the tributes will be different.

I sigh, doubtful, but the thought lingers in the back of my head and I can't help but hope.

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Cerise POV, earlier that day.

Today is the day of the reaping, and it's already past noon. My father is dressed in his best clothes, and so is my mother. She's helping me get ready. My outfit consists of nothing more than a white blouse, slightly tinged gray because of the coal dust on everything, and a royal blue skirt that reaches just below my knee. It flares out at the bottom and swirls around my legs when I walk; very pretty really. I give a small smile at my reflection and then sit down so my mother can do my hair.

I'm actually pretty scared, worried about being chosen as tribute, but I can't let this show. Both of my parents are bigger wrecks than I am and this means it's up to me to keep the mood light. My father is the strongest and bravest person I know, but he's more anxious for me than I am. He just keeps his eyes locked on me all day, concern creasing his forehead and shining in his eyes, while my mother tries to smile and act upbeat but every now and then she'll start to cry. If this is how they act when I'm only in danger of being chosen, I can barely imagine how they'll be if I am.

When mother finishes with my hair I stand again and go look in the mirror. The long, dark puce locks, reaching all the way down my back, have been pulled up and twisted into a bun near the top of my head, while a few pieces have been left to hang down and frame my face. My hair is a rather odd colour I think, some weird combination of brown, red, and purple. I turn back to my parents and give as cheerful a smile as I can muster.

"Thanks mamma. It looks wonderful."

She forces a smile, but a few tears fall from her eyes. "You're welcome dear."

My father's gaze is still glued to me as he stands and places an arm around my mother's shoulders.

"We should get going." He says.

I walk over to them and we all hug each other tightly. For a minute or two this is how we stay, and then finally break apart.

"You needn't worry so much about me. I only have twelve slips. There are thousands to choose from." I shrug.

When my father speaks again there's a sharper edge to his voice. It's not quite anger, but a disapproving air.

"Six more slips than there should be."

I look down at my feet, encased in dainty little black shoes. My father was against me taking out any tesserae, but I did. But he wouldn't let me take any out for him and my mother. So instead of four slips every year, it's only two. Still, to him this is too much; double what it should be. I believe he also feels guilty for the fact it was needed for me to take any tesserae at all. He thinks it's his fault for not being able to provide for his family. I think this is ludicrous because for living in the Seam, we're pretty well off. Perhaps we aren't always full, but we never go hungry. He works in the mines and my mother has a small business as a seamstress. Father also hunts in the forest if need be; something he could be killed for. I've only ever gone hunting with him twice.

Finally, just before one o'clock we leave our home and head for the square. All the people of District Twelve are gathering. I give a final hug to my parents and begin my way through the crowd. When I reach the section marked off for the seventeen year olds, I exchange glances with some of my friends and we wish each other good luck. Looking around I notice my parents have managed to get to a spot near the front of the crowd, they're both staring at me intently and I give them another reassuring smile before turning my attention to the stage. The mayor is seated, along with Effie Trinket the escort for District 12's tributes, a previous victor of the games Haymitch Abernathy, and the most recent winners Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen. My gaze lingers over Katniss for a moment. I have met her multiple times before. I frequently go and see her mother and sister, and they teach me all they know about healing and medicine. It fascinates me really and when I'm helping someone it makes me feel so good. Even though I was only seven at the time, I can still remember watching the Hunger Games back when Katniss and Peeta were District 12's tributes. She was so smart and brave and strong, she even managed to make it so her and Peeta were both able to win. It makes me wonder why we haven't been able to win every year since with these two helping out tributes; not to mention Haymitch, who won the Games and helped Peeta and Katniss.

Lastly my gaze drifts over to a boy in the group marked off for the 18 year olds. He's tall and slim, but you can tell he's muscular, with short, spiky black hair and olive toned skin. He turns and looks at me. His face is stoic but when our eyes meet a flash of worry crosses his face. The boy's name is Ethan, and he's my boyfriend; but to me that doesn't seem strong enough a word. I love him more than anything in the world, and suddenly all the worry I had for myself is gone and all I can think of is him. His family only consists of himself and his older brother, since their parents died, so he only has 12 slips with his name on them for the reaping like me. His brother wouldn't let him take out any tesserae until he was no longer eligible for the Hunger Games. So until he was fourteen Ethan only had one slip put into the draw each year.

By now it's reached two o'clock and the mayor has started his speech. Once he's finished telling of the history of Panem, he steps to the side and Effie Trinket bounds on over to the microphone and recites her annual mantra, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" and beams at everyone. Then as she always does she says "Ladies first!" and goes to the glass ball containing the girls names. Reaching in she pulls out the small piece of paper and goes back to the podium. After she reads the name she takes a pause before saying it out loud.

"Cerise Gorman!"

At first I don't even register that she's said my name, until she says it again and the girl behind me gives me a nudge. Then I'm stepping onto the stage and somewhere I hear what sounds like my mother's sob, but I can't make myself look to my parents.

Effie says something, but I'm not listening anymore. The crowd claps quietly and I'm looking to Ethan, who's once stoic face is now full of anger and it seems that a number of people around him are having to hold him back from coming up onto the stage. I give a slight shake of my head and he seems to finally restrain himself and the emotionless mask is back on his face, but his eyes never leave mine. Then Effie reads out the name of the boy tribute, Marcello something or other, but I don't know him and at this point I'm past caring. The only look on my face is shock but I don't think anyone can tell except those who really know me. I have eyelids that are naturally, slightly droopier than most peoples. So unless my eyes are really widened you can't tell that I'm actually as surprised as I am. The mayor reads the Treaty of Treason, Marcello and I shake hands, the anthem plays, and then we're taken into custody.

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A/N: The beginning here isn't exactly to my satisfaction, but I like it. It's more of an introduction than anything else. Originally I was going to skip the reaping and start out on the tribute train heading to the Capitol. But I decided this would be better.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and will read the rest as I post it. =)

This is actually my first fic, ((that I've posted at least)). I was going to put one up of Naruto, but I decided I really wanted to write on about The Hunger Games since I just read the book and found it to be amazing! But I didn't know it was going to be a trilogy so when it said "end of book one" I could barely contain my imatience. So to stop myself from exploding I decided to write my own story about it. Not to mention before I read it I was having terrible writer's block and the book seemed to cure it. ^_^ I thought it needed to be honoured for that. Seriously it was the worst block I have ever had...
Also the title is "Cherry" because that's what the name 'Cerise' means.

plz plz plz review. :-)

seriously, more reviews = more motivation, and inspiration for me which = quicker update