I am just a girl. Nothing more. But I have a purpose.

Hello, I am Alex Fire. Yes, I know not a great last name for an artist, but I'm a pyro as well. I am from District 12. We don't have much, but its what I got. Tomorrow is the Reaping and I hope it's someone I don't know or care about.

DAY OF THE REAPING

"As always, ladies first," I hear Trina say. Oh man, this is going to be good. Hope it isn't some loser, or I'd feel sorry. Trina continues, "And this year's lucky lady tribute is… Alex Fire! Congratulations!" I am terrified and frustrated! Not only will I die, but I will die sorrowfully, slowly, or in my sleep… By a blade.

"Now, for our gentleman! He shall be… Noah Marine! What a lucky man!" Oh, no! That is my best friend coming up with me and we are both only third fastest and artist… Well, he's a musician, but same thing!

This is our hundredth Hunger Games. After the revolution with Katniss, someone else was as crazy as President Snow. So, after two years of deliberation, they decided to bring back the Hunger Games because they conquered District 13. After that, there was no chance or choice but to go along with our new president, President Keevan.

"Our tributes are going to spend three days with each other to get used to each other." Me and Noah looked at each other. This was insane, not only because it was hard enough we were best friends fighting side-by-side, we had to be locked together, too?

THE NEXT DAY

"Well, at least if we survive, we don't have to kill each other," I heard Noah mutter. Just like for Katniss and Peeta, if the tributes are from the same District, we may leave together. He ran his fingers through my long, straight ebony hair. I looked at him, his piercing neon green eyes boring holes in my being. Noah had bright, green eyes and onyx hair. He's beautiful.

"You know, I really like your ebony hair. It works well with your gray eyes. And your freckles look so cute. I can't believe you are going to kill people looking like that." He laughs as he put his face in my hair and pulling me back so I am sitting between his legs.

"Yes, but your looks can kill," I say turning so now I'm hugging him. We are currently on the ground in our now shared room. We've been in love since we met in 3rd grade. Only, he is a grade older.

We spend the rest of the night to rest. The train ride will be long and I have sleeping problems in metal containers running at about 200 miles per hour. He chuckles. Oh, did I mention we can read each other's mind or at least guess by the expressions on our faces? We share one chaste kiss before retiring for the night. Our life might come crashing down in the next week, but we spend our time together.

We aren't fighters. We're artist, we don't kill. We create. Our lives, as we know, them, will never be the same. All of our past scars won't compare to what lies ahead.

A/N : Omg! This is one of my favorite books/movie! I just had to write it! :)