Chapter one.

My sister is running. Screaming out for help. From my view, I can't tell who she's running from. She is screaming for our mom. The weird thing is, our mom has been dead for five years. Why would she be calling out for a dead person? Why isn't she calling out for me? Then I realize, she's running from me. I'm chasing her, but not in a playful way. She is screaming for dear life. Why? Why am I chasing her? She stops and pulls something out of the pocket on her dress. I'm not really sure what is it. I look at my sister. She's not my sister anymore, literally. Her tiny, undeveloped body has morphed into a big, buffed up guy. Her delicate face has turned into a twisted, angry, devil-like face. Her long, blonde, flowing hair is now short and shaved. Her small feet are now humongous. Her soft-looking hands have clenched up and look so rough. Her pretty dress is now an ugly black outfit. Her olive skin is now pale and rough. My sister has transformed into a monster.

The monster's right hand is holding the object she pulled out of her dress pocket. He throws it in my direction. When it leaves it's hands, I realize that it's a knife. I can now hear my heart beat. She turns and pulls her arm behind her head and throws the object in my direction. It's a knife. The blade is coming closer and closer to my body. Instead of moving, like I usually would, I stood there, paralyzed. It's less than a few inches away from my body now. My eyes open, quickly, and my body instantly goes from laying down to sitting up. It was just a dream. I let out a sigh of relief. Then I hear the pitter-patter of feet running into my small bedroom. "Are you okay, Darcy?" My little sister, Mae, is standing in the doorway, with tears filling her bright, blue eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Mae. Why are you crying, sweetheart?" I'm good at hiding my feelings. I don't like to worry Mae. We are so very close. We rarely get in fights, but when we do, they aren't bad. We make up in three seconds. She looks at the ground and rubs her hand up and down her arm. "I…" She glances up at me, and I motion for her to come over. She slowly walks to my bed. I pat an open spot on the edge of the bed twice, gesturing for her to sit. Mae sits and puts her head on my shoulder. "What is it, Mae? You can tell me. You know that." She sighs and shakes her head.

"Mae, tell me. Right now, please." I look at her eyes. One single tear falls from her cheek onto her night gown. She turns her head, trying to hide the fact that she is crying. "C'mon, Mae. You can tell me anything. I won't tell a single soul. I promise." I bend my arm and pull my fist close to my chest, so that my elbow is towards her. She does the same thing and we touch elbows. That's our little thing. If we promise each other something, we do that. She calls it "our nub promise." That's another joke. When she was little, she called her knees and elbows nubs. Ever since then, we've called them nubs. She takes a sigh and looks at me.

"I'm scared. For the reaping. I can't survive in the Games. I'll be the first one dead. I'm not a hunter. I'm not a survivor. We both know it, Darcy. You can't deny it. I've never been able to hunt. I'm the worst hunter in the whole district!" She puts her face in her hands and starts crying hard. I wrap my arm around her and pull her close. She isn't a very good hunter. I'll admit it. She isn't that good, but she is twelve. She hasn't had a lot of practice. I'm sure if she had more practice, she would be better. Maybe. "Darcy, what if you get chosen? If you go into the Hunger Games and you don't make it, who will take care of me? I will die, too. Ever since mom died you've been taking care of me. There will be no one left to help me." She's right. I'm all she has left. Since our dad got killed by the Capitol for poaching, me and mom were taking care of Mae for three years. Then my mom died of hunger. So now I have to take care of Mae by myself.

"Mae Hayfield, don't think like that. Even if I do get chosen, Brock will take care of you until I get back. I will be coming back. Anyway, Mae, that won't happen. Okay? It won't happen." I used my thumb to wipe away the falling tears from her face.

"Okay, Darcy. I hope you're right."

"I am. Don't you worry your pretty, little head. Now, let's get ready for the reaping."

"Okay. I want to wear my blue dress. With the lace at the bottom."

"The one mom gave you from when she was a kid?"

"Yes, that one. The one she wore to her first reaping. I tried it on last night, when you fell asleep, and it fit. Can I please wear it, Darcy? Please!"

"Sure. Let me see it once you have it on, okay? I'll see you when I'm dressed."

"Okay." She smiles and runs out of the room. The dirty, pink night gown is flowing around her ankles. I chuckle and fall against my pillow. Who is their next victim going to be?

Once I'm out of the bed I walk over to the closet and pull out my mothers favorite dress. It's a faded sea-foam green. It's long and it has lace all the way around the bottom and on the sleeves. The sleeves fall like a t-shirt does. The dress tightens at the waist and then flows all the way to the floor. The dress comes with a pair of gold shoes. They cover from the toes to the heel. They are ever so comfortable. I braid my hair into two braids. Then I tie them together with a ribbon. I call Mae into my room so I can fix her hair. I braided it into two pigtails, the way mom did before she passed away. She smiled and hugged me around my waist.

"I love you, Darcy." She says with out warning. That is the first time she's said it since mom died. She said she was afraid to love anyone again because she thought that if they did they would die. I guess that fear is over.

"I love you, too." Since I'm not the mushy type of girl I say, "It's time to go."