It's as if my heart has stopped beating. I can't process this. Over sixty years ago, I won the Hunger Games, and now, my name's going back into that terrible bowl.

I've tried so hard not to dwell on the past, because if I do, I'll never stop crying. But maybe it would be good to get it all down on paper.

Let's start with reaping day…


"Look at the size of this thing!" Thea said. She had just caught a gigantic fish. So of course, she wanted to show off. We fished to provide for our families and the rest of Panem, but I hadn't snagged anything that huge in all my sixteen years of life.

"Lucky," I muttered.

She grinned, stretching out the freckles on her cheeks. "We're not in some kind of competition here. Don't worry. You're gonna get a big one someday."

I merely rolled my eyes as she placed the fish in her bucket.

"Today's not the day to be all perky," I said.

"It's the only way I know how to get through it," Thea admitted. She attempted to retie her bob of brunette hair, but it wouldn't hold. "And I try to remember what it was like… you know… before there was such a thing as the Hunger Games."

"We were practically babies," I replied.

My mother had been killed by a tidal wave during the awful storms that tore North America apart. I was only two years old. According to my father, District 4 used to be called California, and where I lived was once a booming city called San Francisco. I could still see evidence of it in the old billboards and marquees that survived; the remains of a bright, red bridge in the water.

A siren began to blare. That meant we had to leave our work and prepare for the reaping. How had time gone by so quickly?

Thea and I exchanged anxious looks.

"Good luck," she said to me.

"And may the odds be ever in your favor," I replied, holding back tears. Like every year, we separated with the three-finger salute. But something about this reaping felt different.

I went home to get dressed. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a girl in a washed-out blue dress. Sandy-brown hair fell to her elbows, and she had a diamond-shaped face. I liked to think I was pretty. The thing I liked most about me was my jade green eyes. I pulled my hair into a bun, and my dad came to stand behind me.

"You look so much like your mother, Mags," he said.

I hugged him in response. He always smelled of fish, regardless of how much he showered, but unlike most people, I loved the scent. Probably because he was the only family I had.

District 4 is quite large, and we always held the reapings in a place formerly known as Los Angeles. My dad didn't say anything as we headed outside to board a train. He hardly spoke at all most days.

There were thousands of teens waiting when I took my place with the other sixteen-year old girls. Thea and I held hands, facing the Justice Building. Claudia Vanderwall, District 4's escort, approached the microphone moments later. She towered over most. Maybe that was just because of her high heels, but I was a bit more distracted by her teal-colored hair.

"Good afternoon, District 4!" she cheered. "It's that time of year again; Time for one girl and one boy to come forward and represent you all in the 11th annual Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor!"

She walked over to the bowl of girl names first. When she returned to the microphone, I held my breath. Whoever the tributes were, they were probably going to be people I knew. I wasn't so worried about myself.

As it turned out, I didn't have to be.

Claudia opened up the slip of paper.

"And your female tribute," she said, "is… Thea Chamberlain."

I tried to speak, but my throat closed. Thea was just as heartbroken as she hobbled up the line to meet the Peacekeepers. She couldn't hide the sobs that issued from her chest.

It wasn't until she was at the front that I found my voice.

"What?" I croaked. "What?! No!"

Then, without thinking, I uttered four deadly words:

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Thea burst into screams instantly. I ran up the line to calm her down, but she wouldn't listen to anything I said.

"You can't do this, Mags," she begged. "I won't let you do it!"

The Peacekeepers kept prodding me to follow them.

"I told you I'd do anything for you," I told Thea as they grabbed hold of me. "I meant it."

She finally seemed to relent, even if it pained her to do so. Her expression softened.

"I'll see you inside," she assured me.

As I walked onstage to greet Claudia, I could see my dad in the crowd, hanging his head, and I was struck with guilt. He had lost most of his family before I was even born. How would he cope if I died?

I clearly hadn't thought this through, but I was desperate. No way would I let Thea get killed.

"Hello, there, sweetheart," Claudia said, grinning widely. "Will you tell us your name?" She swayed the microphone in my direction.

"Mags Wader," I replied.

"We wish you the best in the arena, Miss Wader! Now for the boys."

I rang my hands anxiously, while Claudia picked out the name of my district partner. This could make all the difference. Maybe this guy would be the one to end my life. It had happened more than once; tributes killing their district partners.

Claudia cleared her throat and read the slip: "Your male tribute is… Tristan Chamberlain."

My mouth fell open at his name. Thea's older brother. After all the years I'd spent being friends with Thea, I'd started to see Tristan as my brother, too. I was an only child. But I couldn't save both of them.

No boy came to Tristan's rescue. His mouth formed a straight line as he strolled forward, yet there was also an air of confidence in his demeanor.

Good, I thought. I already knew he had a better chance of winning than me.

"District 4," Claudia announced, "give it up for your tributes!"

She had the biggest smile out of everyone in the audience. I didn't care how rich people in the Capitol were. How could they not understand that wanting to watch people die was totally, unbearably sick?

It sounded to me as if their citizens were the ones who should've been reaped.

Inside the Justice Building, I rubbed my arms nervously. I had to start thinking of my strengths, and what weaknesses I needed to improve on. This was my life at stake, after all. I had the most experience with knots and fishing. A knife or trident would probably be my best weapon.

Thea burst through the doors.

"How could you?" she demanded.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I spat. "I just saved your life!"

Thea's eyes were pouring out tears, which she kept wiping away. "But now you're the one who's dying… This is so unfair."

"It's the Hunger Games," I reminded her. "Fair is the last word I'd use to describe them. And we can't change their minds."

"Maybe you can."

I merely brought Thea into a hug, refusing to let her go.

"Don't you dare stop taking care of yourself," I said.

She nodded. "And I know you'll be good to Tristan."

"Of course."

We put our arms around each other again, but there would never be enough time to really say goodbye. I had just stopped crying when my father came to see me.

"I love you, Magpie," was the first thing he said.

"You had to use my old nickname," I replied in a bittersweet tone.

He kissed the top of my head gently. "Your mother would've been proud of what you just did."

"Thanks. I love you, Dad."

"You can win this," he said. "I know you can. Just remember that when you're feeling awful in the arena."

"I will."

Even though the Games wouldn't be for another two weeks, I was already about to vomit from nerves; and as our train left District 4 behind, it finally hit me:

I'm going to die soon.

But no way would I give up. That much, I knew for sure.

I'd fight till my last breath.