Chapter 1: You Reap What You Sow

I'll be fine. Even if I'm picked I can win it.

I fidgeted in my mother's old reaping dress. It was too tight for me, cinching in at the waist, and pulling too tightly over my chest. I had outgrown it last year, but even now that the grey fabric had become threadbare and the bottom seam hit above my knees, it was the only thing we had that looked decent enough for the reaping.

I looked over at my parents; I could barely make them out in the crowd with so many people. My mother had the olive skin and dark hair of the Seam, but the color had left her face to the point that she now looked ashen. Father was her exact opposite, or he used to be before the years of working in the mines sunk into his skin. The coal had overcome his blond hair as well. I couldn't be sure if they were scared like they used to be when I was a little girl. They've gotten worse since then. They are so much more sick than they used to be. I wonder if they ever thought about how it might just be easier if my name was picked. I had heard them talking when I was still small; they said they shouldn't have ever had a child. Maybe that is why they don't push themselves to the front of the crowd anymore.

I glanced around the other 17 year old girls.

None of them would last a minute in the arena. I may have been as skinny as they were, but I was strong. They didn't know anything about how to defend themselves, but they didn't have Mr. Palladian.

Paul Palladian was easy to make out in the crowd. He had managed to push himself towards the front and he stood almost a foot above the rest of District 12. Seeing him brought a sigh of relief. Mr. Palladian looked my father used to when I was little. I had heard that some people thought they were really brothers; that's probably why no one cared that I worked at the shop with him. He was obsessed with the games. When I turned five he persuaded my father to let me work in his butcher shop when I wasn't at school. It was so he could teach me how to survive, and ever since he has been training me. I didn't complain too much, since he paid me with scraps from the old meat every week. Whenever I did complain he would repeat the same line, "We can't lose you. You need to be ready if you get picked."

I probably knew him more than I knew my parents, and he definitely knew me better than they ever could. They didn't have the strength to know much of anything now.

Each year Mr. Palladian and I watched the games together, and each year I learned more about what it would take to win if my name ever came out of the glass bowl. We had strategized so much that I even thought every now and then that it might be nice to get picked. I could win, and then my parents could afford real medication. Then maybe they would be glad they had a kid. Or I would die, and they wouldn't have to worry about taking care of me anymore. But standing with the rest of the kids from District 12, all of us waiting for the names to be read, pushed the delirium of wanting to be picked out of my mind entirely.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks." I jumped slightly at the Mayor's voice. When the Mayor read his name, the sloppy Haymitch Abernathy took the stage, staggering his way to his seat.

I immediately tensed up at the sight of Effie Trinket approaching the microphone. This year I would get picked. I knew it. I had to get tessera more this year since my parents had gotten worse. They couldn't make it into the mine as often as they used to, and their coughs were getting really bad. I would have to see Mrs. Everdeen almost every day to get enough of her home medicine to keep them going, and even then it wasn't what they really needed.

My name had to have been in the bowl more than any other girl, including the 18-year-olds.

It's fine. Even if I'm picked, I can win.

I took a deep breath just as Effie Trinket spoke, "Ladies first."

The clack of her heels coincided with the beats of my heart. She reached into the glass bowl, and returned to the podium.

It is going to be me. I am going to be picked.

"Primrose Everdeen."

There was a small gasp about the crowd, and my stomach seized as I saw her step forward. She looked so small. She was only twelve. Her name couldn't have been in there even a quarter of the amount mine was. There was no way she could win. When she dies her mother will surely fall into another depression like after the mine collapse. Then who would help my parents? Who knew anything about medicine in the Seam other than her? I looked over at her sister, Katniss, who was wailing Prim's name. She seemed to have nearly fallen over with the shock. I needed to do something, or else my parents wouldn't make it through the year.

Before I could think about it anymore I yelled out, "I volunteer as tribute." Katniss's wails stopped, and I didn't hear anything but the murmur of Effie Trinket arguing with the Mayor as I stepped outside the roped off area and started to walk towards the stage. No one spoke as I made my way to the steps. I had thought about making this walk before, weighed every single reaping I had ever seen, thinking of what each victor did to gain favor with the Capitol, even just after their names were picked. I took a small breath before letting a small smile pull over my lips as I ascended the stairs. I made my planned approach towards Effie Trinket, allowing the false smile to widen as I got closer to her.

"Ahh, how lovely!" She extended her hand and I allowed her to position me next to her on the stage. "And what is your name?"

"Phoebe Callidus," I said with all of the cheer I could feign. I looked over the crowd to find Mr. Palladian. I could almost make out the redness surrounding his eyes. I sent him a nod, and I think that he sent me one too. I couldn't be sure, he was so far away now. Did I really just do this? Did I really just volunteer for the slaughter?

My smile didn't fall as Effie started speaking again. "Wonderful, just wonderful. Let's give a big round of applause to our newest District 12 tribute!"

There were a few moments of silence before I saw Mr. Palladian begin to clap, then the rest of the crowd followed suit. For a moment I almost made myself believe that they were clapping for me, that they were proud of me in some twisted way.

The clapping lasts longer than it had in the last few years, but it ended soon enough, and I remembered why they were really clapping. Their girls were safe. While Mr. Palladian was proud of me, and my parents were glad to be rid of me, the rest were just glad that their child wasn't picked. Effie Trinket continued once more and I tried to charm the cameras as I had seen countless other tributes do before me. "Now it is time to choose our boy tribute!" She walked over to the other bowl and reached in, as she returned to the podium I was sure to give her a warm smile, which she surprisingly returned. I needed to have her on my side if I had any chance with the rest of the Capitol. Her voice spoke the next name clearly, "Demetri Gracher."

A boy from the 18-year-old group made his way forward. He was clearly from the Seam, too. He still had the faint smudges of coal dust on his skin, unlike me. I had spent the morning scrubbing the coal residue of the Seam off of my skin and out of my blonde hair. Once he was beside me on the stage the anthem began, and I took the chance to smile and wave to the whole of District 12. None of our old tributes had ever tried this. They never tried to play this kind of game. Inside I felt a pinch of fear, my heart was beating faster than a rabbit's, and I deep in the pit of my stomach just wanted to go back home, but I knew I needed to start playing as soon as possible if I wanted the chance to win. Mr. Palladian would want me to. He would tell me it was my best chance at getting home in one piece. He would tell me I could win if I could just make the Capitol love me. And if I could just make it back home, if I could just win this game, then I might get to save my parents. I might get to make them proud to have a daughter, then they won't wish I was never born.

When I looked over the crowd as the anthem started to finish I saw the Everdeen girls. Katniss was holding Prim close to her, and I think that there might have been gratefulness in her eyes. I didn't do it for her, though. I didn't even do it for Prim, who would have died in the arena, without doubt.

I volunteered so that I wouldn't have to work so hard to keep my parents alive anymore. I volunteered to get out of the poverty of District 12 for good.

The anthem ended and Demetri and I were ushered into the Justice Building, where I was left alone in a room. I can hear my heart thudding away, and I can feel it trying to escape my chest, pulsing at my ribcage.

I took another deep breath, breathing in the dust of the room.

I'll be fine. I can win this.

I just need to make them love me.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for checking out this story. As per usual, anything you recognize isn't mine. I know, I know, OC story, but I need to work on my character creation and avoiding the whole... Mary Sue situation. If you spot that happening, REVIEW! Let me know, so I can fix it as soon as possible. There will be plenty of canon characters as well, and it should be quite fun. Also, just a heads up that there will be some tragedy involved down the line, after all, it is the Hunger Games (evil laugh). Please review, so I can improve my writing, and the story as well. Thank you for reading this, again!