Sleep. It never comes anymore. I can't say that I miss sleep or the "dreams" that come with it. But maybe if I could just sleep again I could forget about The Games for an hour or two. That lull in sleep where you don't dream or think. Instead I live through the days drowning my fear and sadness in my drunkenness. Effie always reminds me it's not good for my health and that I need to bring at least one tribute back from those god forsaken games. She tells me I'm bitter and that I should lighten up. I have Chaff for that. Maybe this year we can finally have a winner. It's the 74th Hunger Games and over 1,600 young kids have died. I'm wishing for a change and the victors have heard of a man. A man that is trying to change everything. He believes that District 13 is not gone. That its real. Someday we'll know. But not today. Today I'm going to drink away my problems. Today is the reaping. Maybe we'll have a fighter this year.