an: hi, this is A, and this is my rewrite. trust me it'll be a lot different for the later chapters. i'm just doing this for kicks. i don't own the hunger games, suzanne collins does.

also, i rated this Teen, but know i use f- and sh-t considerably. please don't make me change this to M because of a few words, because that'll be a pain in the butt.

review? that'd be great. idk if i'll rewrite later chapters but this'll be fun for now


I feel the grass rustle beneath my feet. It startles me so much I throw my knife reflexively. When I pick up the game, I hold a two-foot long snake with a blade coming out of its neck.

"Did you catch a snake?" Terrence smiles. We've been friends for as long as my memories go back. The duo that sneaks under an electric fence to survive stays together, I guess.

I run my fingers over its scales. "I think so…" It's a light brown and smells like rotten eggs, which makes me gag. Tel walks over to examine it.

"We can sell the skin to the peacekeepers, for sure. I'd say we could make a fortune out of it."

"A fortune? From this little worm?"

"Sure, I mean the skin is in layers. You can get a lot out of an even smaller snake."

"Didn't know you were an expert on snakes." I tease him. Before I can push him aside jokingly, a bell rings out. It echoes through the trees. We have one hour until the reaping begins.

"Dammit, we've only got an hour. Better get to the Hob now before we have to be in the square."

"We can always sell after the reaping." I say.

"We should just sell after. Easier to get a good deal when everyone's feeling generous." It hits me that we both take tesserae. This year, I have 20 slips in the bowl, and Tel has 24. Every year, our odds are worse and worse. With two tributes sent off to fight 22 others to the death every year, we haven't had a victor in decades.

I mock our escort, Effie Trinket, who runs District 12's reaping. "May the odds be ever in your favor!"

He laughs. "Happy Hunger Games! I'm off to go watch people die on my satin comforter! Doesn't it sound just grand?"

"Oh yes! I was thinking about adding another pillow! You can never have too many of those!"

We chuckle until our muscles ache. "I'll see you at the reaping." He gives me a squeeze, then walks to the fence.


My dress for the reaping is mostly white. There's a patch of black that flickers for most of the left side and then tapers around my waist, like a fire erupting onto it. My mother wore it. My sister couldn't fit in it, so she passed it onto me. Livia wears a simple, faded dress for her final reaping. I picked up the tesserae this year so she wouldn't be even more vulnerable.

"You're going to be fine. Milo made it through. I'm going to make it through. You will too." Livia tries to comfort herself as we wait in line for the census.

"Livia, if I do get picked," she tries to protest, but I continue. "If I do get picked, don't volunteer for me. You and I both know I have at least some chance of surviving."

"But you won't get picked. So drop it." She snaps.

At the front, the peacekeeper orders me, "Give me your hand." The prick of the needle stings; he smashes my fingertip onto a paper, then shoves me away. I look for Terrence in the crowd, only to hear him behind me.

"Wow, this party's a real downer."

"I know, we need some music or some food here. Not enough hot peacekeepers to stare at." I grin. He pushes me aside and starts to walk away with a sly smile on his face, but he turns back.

"Get over here." He pulls me into a hug. "Meet me afterwards, okay?" I nod into his chest and clutch him tightly. Tel may be the only certainty in my world and I don't want to let him go.

Two peacekeepers rip us apart, one shoving me towards my section. I take my place next to a few girls I know from school and simply wait for the reaping to start.

A gong rings twice, echoing through the square. Everyone hushes to the point that the only sound left is Effie's shoes as she walks onstage. Her hair is bright pink and she wears a fuschia dress which only emphasizes her ghastly white face.

Her teeth are bleached white. I can see them from here as she smiles into the microphone. "Happy Hunger Games!" Her Capitol accent is thick, making her vowels droop lower and her mouth open wider. "May the odds be ever in your favor!" She squeals with delight.

The crowd is silent. "Let's welcome District 12's, ah, only victor...Mr. Haymitch Abernathy." She applauds, as does a few others scattered in the crowd. He stumbles on stage in a drunken mess, and nearly topples her over as she attempts to help her up.

He grabs the microphone. "Hey! You!" He points to a boy in the middle as he slurs his words together. "Try not to get picked. If you do, you're fucked! I can't do anything about it!" He chuckles his way over to his seat and falls face first into it. Effie looks like she's sick.

"Always charming, Mr. Abernathy. Now, this year, there is a film from the Capitol for you all. Let's watch."

It turns out to be a shortened film version of the Treaty of Treason. Effie looks emotionally invested in it. It's ridiculous and horribly put together. I roll my eyes when they show a row of happy district people joining in hands. Propaganda. It's all just propaganda bullshit.

"Wasn't that spectacular? Effie says. "I just love that. Well, it's time to start the reaping." She sounds like an excited schoolgirl. "First up, girls."

She walks over to the fishbowl of names, swirling her hand around the slips. My heart rate rises sharply until I feel it beating wide and fast. She grabs a slip and walks over to read it. After carefully opening it, she clears her throat and the entire district is wordless.

"Rina Newfeld"

Dammit. Dammit. I curse and feel my senses sharpen as panic sets in. I start to walk and find myself running. Before I can look back, peacekeepers push me forward and I slip down. I catch my balance before I fall in front of the entire country and walk onstage.

The sun is at its peak.I can see it from my spot onstage, standing beside the glass bowl that holds the names of every girl in District 12. It's just my luck it was my slip she grabbed. My mouth has gone dry. I don't even notice it until I go to swallow and find nothing but emptiness.

I feel my body tremble, my hands shake. Effie makes her way to the glass of the male names. She sticks her hand almost eagerly into the wave of paper and comes up with a slip.

"Rory Hawthor-"

She can barely finish the name before a voice yells. "I VOLUNTEER!" I know that voice.

I wish I didn't.

I want to scream at him to take it back, to walk back and pretend he said nothing. But he keeps walking and I stare him down, hoping he'll get my message.

"What a courageous young man! What's your name?"

"Terrence Nero." His voice cracks at the end. I haven't heard his voice crack for years.

"Well, Terrence-and Rina-we wish you luck." She smiles deviously. "May the odds be ever in your favor." The reaping is over. I take one last look at the people I know, the people I'll be leaving, just before Effie pushes us into the Justice Building. Once inside, we each get a room to ourselves to say goodbye.

There's only one person I need to talk to and he's across the hall.