"Dearra Mellark."
I stopped mid-breath. There was no way. She'd never signed up for tesserae, never, because she didn't have to, but this was unfair, completely, totally unfair. After so many years hating the Capitol and their cruel rules I couldn't have hated them less right now.
I knew, being one of the few Victors in District 12 that if I ever had children there would always be a chance that their name could be called in the Reaping. I knew that, but I never considered it. 15 years ago, when my younger sister, Prim was called at the Reaping I was shocked, bewildered, horrified, you name it. She had never signed up for tesserae because I had not let her. I made sure that she didn't have to. I did everything in my power to protect her; the one thing I was sure I loved in this world. And even now, as I look at my own children I never considered them being called for the Games and they had never signed up for tesserae, either. How could I not have, though, after what happened to Prim? How foolish I was, to think that the Capitol would show some kind of mercy.
The worst part was knowing my own daughter was going into the Hunger Games and there was nothing I could do to save her. There was no one to take her place. I knew she didn't have a chance to win the games, knew it from the pit of my stomach because she'd had an easy life, as I made so sure of. She did not have the hard, emotional, terrifying childhood I had. She always had food in her stomach, always had someone to tend to her if she was ill. She never needed to feed her own family, breaking laws punishable by death in the process, never had to carry the whole world on her frail shoulders as I had. But again, how could I, of all people be so, so foolish as to believe she could not be Reaped! I was a senseless fool if that was the nicest thing you could call me.
I watched in horror as Dearra made her way up to the stage. I could see her slim frame trembling with fear from where I stood, in the crowd.
"Congratulations!" Effie Trinket sang, though there was fake enthusiasm layered thick in her words. After Peeta and I had won the Games, Effie had been offered top Representative for District 4, but refused. She claimed that, after all we'd been through; she couldn't stand to leave Peeta and me now. Effie must have been almost as horrified as I was, because she said nothing more, but ushered her over to the other side of the podium.
My daughter! After everything they had taken from me already I was not willing to give her to them. They'd already taken my privacy, my will, my future, my whole life away and now they wanted her, too. I could not, would not, let that happen.