RipredIsAwesome: Well, here's my attempt at a Hunger Games story. It probably won't be as good as my SSB fic for a while, but it'll get better, trust me. Especially this chapter, it's probably rushed a lot. And for anyone who is reading my SSB fic, I haven't given up on it yet. I just need the TV for quite a while and I can't get a chance to not have my brother around long enough.

Mewtwo: you had better hurry up on that. I really feel like beating the crap out of Tabuu.

RipredIsAwesome: Shut up Mewtwo! Well, anyway, here's the first chapter and...Mewtwo here to do the Disclaimer.

Mewtwo: RipredIsAwesome does not own the Hunger Games. If she did, this story would probably be better.

RipredIsAwesome: I hate you Mewtwo. I really do.

Chapter One

It was an unusual day when I woke up. I say it was unusual because it was the very first Quarter Quell, twenty five years since the districts rebelled. Our President – President Alexander Snow – had said when he and his Capitol men created the Hunger Games that every twenty five years, there was a thing called a "Quarter Quell." This is where it's the Hunger Games, which is horrible enough, but with a twist. The first Quarter Quell had been announced that the people of our district will actually vote for who they want to give the death penalty. I say the death penalty because well…I live in the poorest district of all, District Twelve. We have yet to actually win a Hunger Games; in fact we're normally out shortly after the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. I'm still not exactly sure what we do for mentors, maybe it's our escorts, but I doubt it.

Oh, I nearly forgot. I'm Zaria Winters from District Twelve. I don't have the dark complexion of the Seam, nor do I have the merchant's look of the blonde hair, blue eyes (even though I am a merchant's daughter). My hair is a moderate brown color, slightly dark skin but it looks like it has been tanned than anything else, and dark blue eyes. My mother says that our family came from District Thirteen and because District Twelve was (and still is) one of the few overfilled districts, they stuck us here. The other options would have been Districts Six and Seven. The rest are very large districts, but they truly need the labor force.

Well, back to our main topic. Today was the Reaping for the Quarter Quell, or, the vote for the Quarter Quell. I looked around my house for something nice to wear and after some time, find a navy blue dress and slip it on. It fit quite nicely and went well with the fact that my family came from District Thirteen, especially when you consider that District Thirteen consisted of areas of Northeastern Panem, not to the point where you were freezing the entire time, but to the point where winters were very cold. Then I walked out towards the Justice Building, where the Reaping was being held and went to the penned off fifteen year old section where I met up with a friend of mine, Devitan Waters. Devitan – or as I called her, Devi – was a merchant's girl with their classic blonde hair look, or at least for the most part. Her hair had streaks of a light red going through, which was extremely unusual for a merchant's girl. Particularly once you figure out she hates the Capitol and that the hair is natural. We talked for quite a bit, not completely about girl stuff, but about other things. The big topic was about who was probably going to get voted to go into the deadly Games as a tribute to die.

"It'll be a merchant's child. Or anyone with more money than Seam kids," Devi said. This made sense; the Seam population outnumbered the merchant population about two to one.

"But it could also be someone who everyone thinks actually has a chance this year," I pointed out. Devi rolled her eyes.

"District Twelve never has a chance," she said. I stopped talking, but for two reasons. One, Mayor Therwaker had taken the stage for the usual Treaty of Treason that I've heard most of my life. Two, Devi had made an excellent point. Saying District Twelve has a chance for a change hasn't happened once. We haven't won any Hunger Games yet, but who knows? Anything can change.

First, our Capitol escort took the stage. Her name was Palina Hart. She had to be the only escort who had altered herself so much. Palina had her teeth altered to give herself fangs like a vampire, but with golden tips on them, had bluish skin and glittery, purple eye shadow, her eyes were a light pink, her hair had rigid, blood red curls everywhere, she had fake whiskers next to her nose and bright red lips that didn't match anything except the hair. And then there was the outfit. Palina decided to wear an outfit made purely out of palm leaves that barley covered anything past the waist and gigantic heels that were a dark blue. At least she wasn't a stylist for District Twelve and just our escort. That would be torture for anyone.

"Hello there District Twelve!" she said in that annoying Capitol voice. I swear she's had it altered, even the Capitol isn't that high pitched. "Are you ready for an exciting Hunger Games?" There wasn't much response from the crowd, but this didn't stop Palina. "That's grrreat! Mayor Therwaker, can you please hand me the card that holds the boy's and girl's name from the card?" Mayor Therwaker walked over to Palina holding a manila folder in his left hand. Palina swiped the folder from his hand and opened it, examining who it was before she called them out. Those thirteen words she said I still wished I never heard in my life. They haunted me throughout my life, in my dreams and in my waking life. Palina waved the card happily as she exclaimed:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, our first person voted is none other than Zaria Winters!"