AN: sooo… yeah. Another Hunger Games fanfic. Woo. Quick description, after Katniss and Peetas' games, but-SPOILER ALERT BOOP BOOP BOOP- it didn't cause a rebellion an stuff, so the quarter Quell is what it was going to be pre-Katniss/Peeta. I know it won't convince any of you too review if I ask, but pleeeeeease review. That's all for now.

Sometimes, I think I'll be alright. I'll look at them, holding hands at the dinner table, talking, wrapped in each other's arms, and think, just for a second, things will be okay. But then reality comes crashing down. They'll reply kindly enough if I ask a question, about how I'll survive the next few months, with a joking "Stay alive" as their mentor famously said during their games. Or more seriously, "We'll explain in training" Peeta even told me there'd be another multiple victory for district 12 this year. But I know better than too think everything will be okay. I see it in their haunted eyes, past horrors covered by the mask of a false smile. I see it in the pain that flickers on their faces when the other tributes ask them about the games. I see it in the third mentor, Hamitch, drowning in his drink. I hear it in their screams, keeping us tributes awake, the two lover's terror echoing across the train at night, reliving the games in their dreams. I know, even if I, along with the other three tributes, survive, we'll all be haunted, just as our mentors are, unable to escape the horrors witch we lived through. Unable to escape the Arena. I'm Alex Aindrea. Let the seventy fifth hunger games begin.

This is, in some ways, the best year to get reaped. On one hand, you have worse chances, one in forty eight rather than one in twenty four, but on the other hand, you'll be co-operating with three other tributes to survive. The Quarter Quell this year works like this: four tributes from each district are reaped. All four tributes are on the same team, and if all four are the last standing, they all go home. Four tributes. Another twist? Four years of rewards for the winning district. One for each contestant. So we have to win. Me, and Aiden, the little boy who got reaped his first year because he had to take out tesserae, Andy, The eighteen year old boy who Volunteered in place of his little brother. And Shura, the thirteen year old girl with fire in her eyes. The girl who will be Our Katniss Everdeen. Our mocking jay. We have to win so the death in our district stops. The young children with hollow cheeks pawing through the trash, the dead, emaciated body on the streets. So we have to win. The other tributes have to die so our families won't. This is the way the Games were designed. To keep the districts apart. I don't mind dancing to the capitol's tune if it means my family survives. But I see the haunted eyes of Katniss and Peeta. I hear their screams. And I realize, as the train pulls into the station, maybe I do mind, just a tiny bit. That tiny bit flames, filling me with warmth, forcing me to stand tall as we exit the train, the four tributes of district twelve. The future victors of the Hunger games.

AN: yay, short chapter! Anyway, I made a new fic just in time to not write for the month of November well, I will be writing. Three and a half pages a day. National novel writing month(NANOWRIMO), is when you write 50 000 words over the course of November. So no updates in November.