PART I : TRIBUTES

Chapter 1

The Hunger Games only lead to destruction. Destruction of the lives of all the tributes, of all the families, of the Districts and of course, of the Victor. Because who would be able to live a good, honest life if they were the murder or twenty three other people? Not me. Not me. But then again, I probably don't have that much of an honest life at the moment. I live in the Seam in District Twelve and could die for the amount of illegal acts I've committed. There has to be at least a hundred. The most important one is that I have killed animals in the woods outside of the District. It's quite easy actually. They never have the electric fence charged, even though I always check first, and then you just have to be good at making a snare and good at throwing. Throwing and shooting.

There are only two other people in the whole District that dare to venture into the woods, mostly everybody stays away for fear of being caught and killed, but me, I have to kill, or else I die. We all die. I don't think they even notice me in the Hob. After all, I'm just a fifteen year old that does almost nothing. I keep most of the meat I get for my family, but I get the pelts and sell them. Who knows what happens to them after they leave my possession, all I know is I get money for my pelts. And that keeps us alive. I have thirty tesserae's at the moment. That means for the next reaping I'll have my name in the bowl a total of thirty four times. I hope that I don't get chosen, cause then what will my family do? Starve?

I can't let that happen. But what will happen if I am chosen? My family has almost no friends and anyone with extra food is a Victor. And we only have one Victor from District Twelve. Old Haymitch Abernathy. And he's too drunk to even think about giving anybody his time of day, let alone money or food. I barely eat at all, just the small scraps that are left after my family eats. A family of four that lives off of squirrels, rabbits and the occasional bird of deer. There's only my mother, my father and my little niece that I love too much to let take a tesserae, ever. My older sister's dead because of the Hunger Games, so I don't think I'll ever be able to look at a Capital citizen without hatred.

Today is the reaping of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games. And the world might just fall down if I get reaped. Let's just pray I don't.

"Terra!"

"What?"

"Get your reaping clothes on! You have less than half an hour to get ready and I don't think you want to go wearing that." my mother spat at me. As if I didn't do enough for this household to deserve to go to the reapings in my hunting clothes.

"And what's wrong with this? These are the clothes that I wear that keep the food on the table and the money in your pockets!"

"You will look presentable today whether you want to or not. You can't stay in this place forever bringing in no substantial money. You will need to find a husband that can bring in a better income."

"This income is saying us from starvation! Why don't you go out into the woods and kill animals for hours and then come back to have me yell at you!"

"Terra?" Brianna asked from the door way. She was only ten years old and she wouldn't be able to have her name entered in the reaping bowls for two more years. Two more years that I hoped I could keep her alive long enough and make sure that she only has her name in there once. She would have her name entered only once ever if I had anytihng to do with it. There was no way I was letting my little Brianna participate in the Hunger Games. I'd volunteer myself if she was chosen. But she wouldn't be chosen for the next two years. I on the other ahnd could be chosen today.

"It's fine, Brianna. Don't worry. Just, um, just go get ready. I'll be ready in a second anyway." She nodded and I headed with her into our cramped room where our two small beds were crushed almost touching together in a small space.

"Put on your dress, you'll look pretty." I said, helping her into it. It was a little too small for her, but it hung off her frame like a rag on a stick. She was too skinny, but not too big. She was like a twig and I felt sorry to say that she'd never even tasted bread before. And not bread made from tesserae grain, no, I want her to be able to eat real bread that is soft and flaky and warm.

"You look prettier than me." Brianna said, smiling up at me.

I shook my head, smiling a little. "No, no. No one is as pretty as you look right now." I whispered, looking down at her.

"Don't lie!" she said, giggling.

"Sorry, but it's true." I said, smiling back at her. We were both standing in front of the mirror and looked as different as could be. Her soft brown hair and gray Seam eyes weren't anything like me. I had darkish red hair paired with smoke like gray eyes, that were totally off from Seam eyes. I was poor yet I didn't look like it, being different looking. Not necessarily a bad thing but not good either.

"Terra, what if you have to kill people?"
"What do you mean?"

"What if you get reaped? Doesn't that mean you'll have to live and kill people?"

"Yes, why? Do you think I'll get reaped?"

She looked down and away from me. I frowned and took her chin in my hand and to my surprise she yanked her face away from me and wouldn't look at me.

"Brianna?" I said softly as she started to sob. Big, fat tears rolled won her shallow cheeks and she turned to look me in the eyes.

"I-If you leave, y-you'll be different. Y-You won't be y-you and if y-you do leave, y-you'll be a k-killer. But w-what if you d-d-die? I-I'll be a-all alone! And we'll starve b-because y-you're the only thing k-keeping us a-alive!" she said as she cried harder. "I-I don't want you to d-die! I-I don't want to d-die!"

I wrapped my arms around her and closed my eyes.

"Brianna, I won't leave you. I promise. I won't let you go. There isn't a thing that could keep me from leaving you. I promise. Just remember something, what if there was a little girl that was reaped that was like you? What would you do then? Would you let her die when you knew you had a better chance?"

She thought for a moment, hiccupping a little from the crying.

"No, I'd go in her place."
"Exactly."

"But don't leave for someone else! District Twelve tributes always die anyway. They usually get to live a good life and then we never see them again."

"Brianna, I would go for you and only you. So don't think about it. I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?"

I smiled sadly. "Promise."