Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, or any original characters.

A/N: I was scrolling through the stories on here and have noticed a lot of people have been writing stories where they continue the Hunger Games. This will instead be a story where President Coin's idea of capitol children being sent into the arena instead is brought to life. I've come up with a few main characters myself but I'm welcome to anyone submitting tributes too, so I'll leave a form at the bottom of this chapter for you to potentially fill out. There will be 24 tributes as per usual.

Summary: In Mockingjay, the Districts over-ruled the Capitol - and now it's their time to finally take revenge for all the years of suffering. The 76th Games are about to begin...

Prologue

Peeta Mellark's POV

Home was District 12, no matter how painful the memories here were. This was where I was born, raised and Selected - and after surviving the Hunger Games, I knew this was the place I would surely die too. That was fine with me, it was better than fine in fact. It was almost too good to be true.

This was also the place where I had first fallen in love with Katniss, almost eight years ago now.

Katniss lives in the house across from me in the Victor's Village. This is pretty much the only place where people actually live. It's only been a few months after the rebellion and people have only just started to rebuild their lives. God knows I've been trying. Everyday I see what is left of our District. I see who is left too. I watch them labouring away as they build houses, a school, a new town hall. I've even been assisting the construction of a hospital.

I'm not a labourer though, I'm just an artist.

I paint for people, anything they like. My most famous work across the New Seam is a mural in the town square. I made sure to have special paints imported before I started my work, the kind of paint that wouldn't fade or splinter away quickly. The mural is of the first sunrise I saw when in the arena; a memory that I know won't fade or splinter away quickly either.

The Sun had been bright through the trees, artificial and fake yet... So reassuring at the time. Sunrise meant that I had survived the night. It was like no sunrise I had seen before and at first it hadn't even hurt to look directly into it. In fact, I still swear I could see each individual shade of gold, red and white in the rays that engulfed the sky that morning.

The reason I painted it was because I also know it was something I'll never see again because no matter what, no sunrise will ever give me the strength and hope that particular one had given me. I longed for it now as the television in the living room of my house came alive.

I had almost forgotten and now, I instantly wanted to all over again. The Reaping of the 76th Games was about to begin and already I was slipping into a state of disrepair. Memories from three years ago came flooding back and I was the son of a baker again, standing awkwardly before the eyes of the Capitol.

No matter how much I hated the Capitol though, I hated the Hunger Games more. I tried to close my eyes - but no, they just came to life again before my eye lids.

My Katniss... Holding a handful of the berries that had just killed off the last of our opposition...

No. That was the past, this was now. Now was safe. I was safe. The only palpable sinking reality was that the children about to appear on the screen were not safe.

It was meant to be something to even out history. Some even called these Games fair and vengeful. I called it murder. Katniss and I had argued about this topic several times already since we'd returned home. She was never quite certain of how she felt about the Games. One minute she would beg me never to mention them or their meaning again. The next she was agreeing to things just like this and I was staring at her wide-eyed.

The image of the destroyed Capitol came into focus now and I found myself staring into the eyes of what would be called a commentator.

The first thing I noted were that his eyes were a pastel blue, the kind of colour I would've linked with outrageous frosting once upon a time. The second thing was that he talking.

"... This is a day in which the people of Panem will make amends for ever, a day in which history will change. This is the day of the last Reaping and for once we can sit and watch, not worrying about our beloved children taking part. No, we shall welcome instead the children of our dear, sweet Capitol onto the stage." The camera visibly zoomed out and now I saw that there was a whole crowd of people, and that the ruins had only been a backdrop.

A few hundred children were gathered into the centre of the crowd on a raised platform. I felt a tear run down my cheek and didn't bother to swat it away.

And then the Reaping began.

A/N: As well as submitting tributes I would also enjoy getting a few reviews for this little prologue. I know it's not much but I'd like to think it showed my writing skills well and that I did Peeta justice. Anyway, here is the form I promised you guys...

Compulsory

Full name:

Age:

Appearance:

Personality:

Skills (useful to the Games):

Weaknesses:

History:

Optional

Friends and Family:

Reaping Outfit:

Interview Outfit:

(Just to say a big thank you to anyone who reads this and has read The Hunger Games. They're incredible!)