Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.


Josef Inouye, District 3

"In celebration of the first twenty-five years of the Hunger Games, an anonymous decision has been made to add a little twist to these Games. We will call it the Quarter Quell and it shall arrive every twenty-five years to create more excitement with the Games. This year is our first Quarter Quell."

A small, cruel grin sneaks onto President Aufidius's snickering expression. The rare times I am forced to listen to his hideous and atrocious speeches concerning the country of Panem, I can't help but shudder at the mere sight of our President. His acutely smoothed-back pitch black hair and inhumanely perfect facial features makes my spine shiver in fear.

Everything about him is dark. His eyes, hair, and clothes are all the color of midnight, except for his skin, which is milky white. President Aufidius's pale pink lips turn up with an intimidating smirk.

"For the first Quarter Quell," he continues evilly, "the citizens of each district of Panem will choose their own tributes by voting for them. The reaping will be held on a ballet. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor." He spits the last part out without his signature scary smirk, which tells me he doesn't really wish the odds in my favor.

Mother grips my shoulder tighter than ever before and watches me with worrying eyes. Translucent tears glisten in her oval-shaped eyes, a trait I inherited from her. The rest of my appearance, brunette hair and long legs, my father passed onto me.

My father, the crazy man who terrorizes the citizens of District 3 with his outrageous ideas of the rebellion that failed twenty-five years ago. Oh, and also the ideas of cleaner, more efficient ways of harvesting energy. Those ones aren't so bad, but the ones about the rebellion get the Peacekeepers all riled up.

My father has spent over thirty nights in the District prison for disrupting the peace. Everyone knows he is off his rocker, even me. I hardly ever see him due to the fact that I am in school most of the time. The Capitol keeps District 3 kids in school longer to maintain our status as the technological geniuses.

My little sister, Arion, cuddles closer to Mother and whimpers frightfully. She tangles her thin little hand in my hair. Thankfully, she still is too young for the reaping and the Hunger Games.

I, unfortunately, am eligible.

"I don't want you to leave, Josef," Arion murmurs in a soprano voice.

I don't answer, and neither does Mother. As much as we feel we need to reassure her for the best, we can't do that. We simply cannot lie to her. Deceitful lies are what destroy people. I never want my sister's beautifully innocent soul to be damaged more than it has been.

"It's late, Arion. Why don't you go to bed?" sighs Mother, brushing stray wispy strands of hair out from my sister's eyes. She'll need to have her long bangs cut soon. I can't help but think that I might not be here for that event.

"Okay," she yawns sleepily, slipping off to the bedroom she shares with Mother. Arion's soft footsteps fade out and out of the corner of my eye, I see Mother glance at me.

I don't meet Mother's gaze. I know it will only cause her grief. She doesn't want to see the truth. She wants to block it out for as long as possible. But what good does that do? The truth eventually finds its way through, and when it is put off, its surprise presentation is worse than it would have been earlier.

The citizens of each district of Panem will choose their own tributes by voting for them.

Who do you think District 3 will vote for the male tribute of the first Quarter Quell?

If you guessed Josef Inouye, you were quite right.

It's not a done deal, but the people of District 3 only hate one person in particular, and that person is my father. They hate him for trying to incite rebellions and causing uproarious commotion from the Peacekeepers. The only reason there are so many Peacekeepers in 3 is because of my father and his revolutionary ideas.

So naturally, the citizens of 3 will vote off the crazy man's son in attempt to rid District 3 of any other rebellious ties. No one in Panem wants to be a part of any uprising or revolt any longer. Not after the horrors that the citizens experienced twenty-five years ago. Mother was just a girl when the rebellion was demolished and all hopes for freedom were smashed under the terrifying boot that is the Capitol. She used to tell me that my father is the only person who kept hope for the districts' liberation after the Hunger Games was devised.

I actually remember my father telling me something long ago. He said that everyone should have options and the right to choose among those options. I was very young back then so I didn't get it. I still probably don't know the entire meaning of his courageous statements.

Well, the districts certainly do have options now. And they even have the power to choose.

The power to choose a child's death sentence.