A/N: My friend and I were really hyper when we wrote this, because we had just downed eight cups of peach "juice", aka, cups of pretty much pure sugar. Please don't charge us with your therapist bills.

This is a parody. Not meant to be taken seriously, nor intended to insult anyone.

When I woke up, the other side of the floor was cold. My family was so poor that we can't afford a bed, but I try not to complain, because that's what mother would have wanted. My mother was killed in a freak medical accident, when a pregnant woman punched her.

I can never forgive myself for causing her death, and cry myself to sleep every night because of the guilt.

Looking around the tiny room that was our home, my large cerulean eyes flecked with tiny glints of silver scanned the room. I have 20/15 vision, which the doctors said was impossible. It's not. My perfect, rosebud lips shifted into a smile when I saw the small form of my sister, Poppy, lying a little ways away from me, her baby lynx named Princess curled up in her arms.

I nod, understanding. Every night, after crying myself to sleep with glistening, tragic diamond/crystal tears, I sometimes relive the horrors of my past. My screams of agony can keep my poor sister up sometimes, and she moves out of the way to avoid my tragic, flailing arms.

It is the reaping day. My perfect, alabaster skin shimmers mysteriously in the sunlight, which streams down from where the roof should be. My family is too poor to afford a roof.

My beautiful, raven black hair falls to the ground in glistening, gorgeous waves, while the occasional pink streak runs through it. They are completely natural, of course. Some people say that I am beautiful – but they are wrong. I am merely a poor, pathetic, ugly, parentless district 12 girl. My dad died in a hunting accident. He was just trying to feed my sister and I, and a guy shot him with a slingshot. He died instantly because the rock hit him in the middle of the forehead.

A single tear falls down my flawless skin, and I close my perfect eyelashes for a moment. Every day I am reminded of how terrible my life is, and how much of a curse my beauty is. You see, my father was distracted while hunting because of my beauty. I was only five then, and had peered out of the fence with my deep eyes. My father hadn't stood a chance.

After that, I learned to hunt. In only a year, I became better than my father ever was, with a spear, sword, bow and arrow, and throwing knives. I could also out-wrestle every boy in school, and most of the men. Over the years, I also discovered that I was the fastest runner in all of District 12, and probably Panem.

Sometimes I could even outrun an arrow, but that was only when my body was filled with the overpowering grief of my failure.

Getting up and going to wash my hair in the waterfall, even though I didn't need to, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it, and there stood Chad McHandsome, one of my many admirers. His perfect teeth (though not nearly as white as mine) glistening in the light.

"Please, leave," I choked out, too overcome with emotion to speak with anyone today.

"But I have brought food for you and your sister!" he offered, holding out a basket that could feed a family of twelve for a year.

"No," I spat out harshly. The last thing I needed was this boy's pity. He was mocking me – they were all mocking me. About to slam the door, I suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion overcome me. The hunger- it was getting to me.

Falling gracefully, like a fallen angel, I felt his strong arms catch me.

"Here, take it," he begged, obviously mocking me further. But I decided to accept it. Though my pride was hurt deeply, since I was so humble, I decided to take the food for poor Poppy.

As the door closed, I brought the food to the middle of the floor, where Poppy was just waking up. Princess yawned and trotted over to us, snuggling my leg. All animals love me, but being so selfless, I tried to divert her attention back to Poppy.

"Wayven," my twelve year old sister babbled, mispronouncing my name again. It is actually Raven, spelled Ray'ven. Her small size makes some people think that she is very young, but she is very mature for her age. "Food! Food! Food!"

I smiled sympathetically at her, tucking a loose strand of silken hair behind my ear.

"This has to last us until 2:00, when my other admirers wake up," I chided her gently.

My pet tiger, Sparkles, yawned and curled up beside me. He is larger than the average tiger, and has silver, glistening stripes instead of black. This is one of the reasons I named my albino tiger Sparkles. Dividing the meat between Poppy and the cats (since I am a vegetarian) I sighed with sorrow.

Eating took us until two o'clock, me nibbling tastefully on a piece of celery. The grandfather clock standing in our little shack chimed twice, telling us the time. Luckily, I knew that two chimes meant two o'clock.

"Well, we'd better get to the reaping, Poppy," I told my sister, from where she was mashing her potatoes with a fist.

"Mash, mash, mash!" she burbled, and then pointed to me with a finger. "Hair."

Isn't my sister darling? I'm gotten many compliments from people, on her intelligence. Many followed the structure of 'Wow, she's a smart one." Her soft little blouse was sticking out of the back of her skirt like a mammoth tail.

"Tuck in your tail, little mammoth!" I gently smiled, tucking it in for her.

"Wraaaaaugh! Wrraaaaaugh!" she giggles, and sounds remarkably like a tiny mammoth. Taking my sister's hand, I gently placed her onto our tiger. Then, climbing aboard myself, we set off to the reaping.

When we got to the main square, I noticed the shocked looks from the peacekeepers, and the awed ones from the crowd. At first I thought it was because of Sparkles, but then realized that everyone was overcome with emotion because of my beauty. As I got off of Sparkles, I humbly blew kisses to the crowd.

Iffle Paris, a Capitol woman with a disgusting, totally not symmetrical face and hideous green make up stepped up to the reaping balls.

"Since it is a Quarter Quell," she began in a nasally voice, "we will be selecting two boys and one girl to compete in this year's Hunger Games!"

I kept a stoic face, knowing that everyone was watching me, enraptured by my beauty. I had been through five reapings before, each of them passing me by. But, my sympathetic and humble heart was worrying not for myself, but for Poppy. It was her first reaping.

"Ladies first!" Iffle Paris squeaks, after the history of Panem is recited.

Poppy. Poppy. Her name was only in that ball once, whereas mine was in there 99 times. What would happen to her if I were picked? How would District 12 go on without my kind heart, humble personality, and beautiful radiance? It would destroy them.

Not me, I think, thinking of the poor people of District 12, with nothing else to live for.

Not me, I think, remembering my little mammoth-tailed sister.

Not me, I pray, my mind flashing back to my many admirers.

Iffle Paris crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. And it's not me.

It's Poppy Evergreen.

A/N: Yeah...

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(Still hyper)