Discalimer: I do not own any of the original ideas concerning the Hunger Games. All of that credit goes to Suzanne Collins. I only own my caracters and what happens to them.

Now that that's over, I hope you enjoy this! It's my first FanFiction so it may be kind of bad. Please Review!

When I wake, all I feel is the bite of the wind and the sting of the many small cuts that adorn my body. I curl up in a tighter ball under my pathetic blanket of pine needles and rotting vegetation, trying to keep the pain of hunger, exhaustion, and thirst at bay. I didn't feel like trying to live anymore; I just wanted to lie here all day and let the bitter wind steal my breath. But of course I still had to find breakfast.

I lay in my makeshift bed for as long as I can bare before I kick myself up. My bow is sitting at my feet, black and silver salvation. I swing it over my shoulder along with my quiver and stand up shakily. My jeans hung loosely around my waist and my shirt that had fit three weeks ago, now looked five sizes too large. Rubbing my hands over my sides I counted most if not all my ribs. I was glad I had only the sparrows for company, any person, even from District 12, would think I was some wild animal.

Sighing, I started in an unsteady run towards the forsaken district of 12. Today was the Reaping and I didn't want to be late.

The woods sang to me as I ran, trying hard not to collapse. I let myself stop long enough to sing out the four-note song that was our anthem in the fifth rebellion. It had been passed down from the second, a four-note song that gave a long dead generation hope. That led to the brief end of the Games. Only one hundred years later they were back. The next hundred gone. This pattern repeated until now, the 210th somewhat annual Hunger Games.

I waited to see if the few remaining Mockingjays would sing it back. I was not disappointed. Their song lit up the woods as I started to run again. It mixed and intertwined as the birds sang the sweet harmony. It almost told me that the odds would be in my favor. Almost.

Being as it was, I wasn't really a member of any district. My parents left a few years the Capitol regained control and started the Games again. I had grown up in the woods, learning how to survive form birth. We never had much. Then my parents got mulled to death while hunting, leaving me orphaned at twelve. I had been living off of the woods ever since.

So you would think that I would be excluded from the Reaping, right? Wrong. It seemed that since I didn't have a place, and therefore a purpose, I was if anything expendable. The people over the Games seemed to think that I should have more of a chance of being reaped. So every year, my name was placed into the large glass bowl five times. This year I would be in there 35 times. Not very good odds considering there are only about fifty or so eligible girls in 12.

I had made it to the edge of the district now, the bird song left far behind me. I didn't stop running until I had made it to what remained of the Justice Building. People were already gathering in the square. I made my way to the line for the sixteen year olds, nervous looking and almost as thin as me. Their eyes shifted constantly, never resting on something for more than a few seconds.

"Are you ready for this year's Games?" the scrawny boy with sandy hair in front of me asked in a quiet voice. I looked at him wearily. What did he care if I condemned to death or not?

"As much as I was in years past," the people here know about my situation, the whole being entered five times every year. But most don't even care enough to learn my name.

"Well, good luck." He walked forward to be accounted for. When the Peacekeeper asked for the next person I walked confidently up to him. He looked board and irritable.

"Name please," at least he was polite.

"Trinity Glade," I held out my hand so he could take the blood sample. He pricked my finger and rubbed it on the paper with my name. I was dismissed and walked into the crowd.

It was only when the clock rang out at two that I realized I still had by bow and sheath with me. The square had become crowed with people and the body of the bow was digging into my spine. I shoved trying to make room; it didn't really work.

"Welcome everyone to the 201th annual Hunger Games!" The man with forest green hair and pale white skin opened his arms and smiled at us. The Capitol made me sick. They made this out as a time for celebrating; it was a time for mourning. "It seems like a full house today." He laughs light-heartedly. No one else responds to his weak attempt at humor. "Well let's not waste any time now."

That was one thing they had changed. We didn't have to listen to the ever growing Treaty of Treason, or why we had the Games. It went straight to the Reaping.

"Ladies first," the green haired man said with such a high voice, it sounded like a little girl. "And the winner is…." He lets the suspense build. We all hold our breath as his manicured hand fishes around the bowl. "Trinity Glade."

I hear the whispers as my name rings in the air. This was probably the first time many of them had heard it out loud. I clenched my hands into fists and made my way up to where the man was. He smiled as I mounted the steps and started up. He shook my hand and ushered me to one side. There was one more name to be called.

"Now for the lucky boy." He took even longer in fishing out this name. We all once again held out breath as the green haired man unfolded the piece of paper and opened his mouth, "Ryder Ark."

The crowd murmured and parted for the boy. The first thing I noticed was that he was tall. This wasn't rare, but uncommon enough to have most of the roofs of the buildings only six feet tall. I was five foot eight, a giant. He was at least six feet. The second thing I noticed was his eyes. They were a deep blue, almost hidden under his black hair that rippled over his forehead. This was rare. Most of us had dark brown to mud colored eyes. Blue was an old reminder of past generations that fought for our freedom. What would they say if they knew they did nothing?

Ryder climbed the stairs, refusing to show emotion on his face. He shook the man's hand and nodded at me. I nodded back. It was the least I could do, since we were going to be trying to kill each other in a few weeks.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, how about a big round of applause for this year's tributes?" No one clapped as the man wrapped his arms around us. No one wished us luck as we were ushered to the train station. Another thing they took out. You don't get to say good bye.

If you liked it don't worry; another chapter will be out soon!

Once again, thanks for reading!