Disclaimer: I do not own anything belonging to Suzanne Collins.

Chapter One: The Gag of the District

Let's get one thing straight. If anyone didn't fit in to the strong and powerful district in Panem known as District Two, then it was most certainly me.

"Hey Savera, watch this!" One of my peers would yell as we stood in the training arena, built especially for teenagers like us, who would one day be prepared to fight in the grand event called the Hunger Games. However, this was not a friendly gesture for as soon as I turned my head, I would see a spear flying at my face.

Luckily, I had this trick pulled on me one too many times. I would jump out of the way, but not before letting out an obscenity and nearly tripping over my own feet, caught off guard. Normally, I could react more efficiently than that, but every time they could catch me off guard…they gladly took advantage of.

A chorus of laughter would explode from my fellow students as I tried to catch my breath before I became their living target once again. Technically, our head trainer, Zenobia Ivory, should have prevented against such actions, but obviously she had her favorites, as well. Though, she would yell something meaningless with her booming voice.

"Behave!" Echoed from her lips. Her voice matched her body type: large and intimidating.

Yeah. As I said before, I did not belong there.

I was most happy on days that I was not at the training academy. In fact, I enjoyed school more than I did the training. However, the issue was that I was required to spend so many hours at the academy every week whether or not I liked it. In my opinion, the training was more important than education to the leaders of District Two …but no one would ever come out and say this. I always excelled more in school. If only I wasn't forced to go to that academy…

Mentally, I would argue this out with the leaders of District Two (because I would never dare actually argue with them in real life). In my head, I would tell them how they really wouldn't want me to go into the Hunger Games as tribute anyways…they wouldn't want someone as weak as myself to go in, get myself killed, not to mention eternally embarrassing our District's prestigious Career reputation. Therefore, it was pointless for me to train for something I would more than likely never be entered into.

I was always told that I belonged in a different district. As far as brains went, I enjoyed being intellectually challenged. To me, there was nothing better than the brain teasers and puzzles that my father would bring back to me after his days working. Like many other men in our district, he was a Peacekeeper.

He, also like many other Peacekeepers, hardly had a say in his drafting into the service. When my family received the letter from the Capitol "requesting" his assistance, we knew that our life was going to change drastically. Perhaps, it was our own personal blessing because not only was his training set in our home district, but he was assigned to District Two on patrol, meaning he was home much more frequently than the other Peacekeepers. In the end, it turned out to be far less painful than we originally had feared.

What I enjoyed most of my father's life in service to the Capitol was that he always had stories from the other men about their home districts or from new Peacekeepers coming to District Two telling of their crazy stories in other districts of citizens breaking the laws left and right. Though some of the stories are rather violent and disturbing, I suppose it was the cost of breaking the law.

Another benefit to having dad in with the Capitol was the access to all sorts of things that he had. Granted, he may not have had the best, but we lived a very comfortable life with more than most (at least from what I heard). He always thought of me when he came back from a shift and made sure to bring something for me. Typically, it was a puzzle of some sort that I would sit on our back porch, my legs dangling off the edge as my pencil sketched furiously at the different codes and patterns there were, just waiting to be solved.

Unfortunately, I have very little highlights from my life in District Two. Of course, my family was probably the best part of the district. My mother and father, naturally, but there were also my two older brothers, Titus and Ostro. As if being picked on at the academy just didn't get the job done, Titus and Ostro made sure to double my teasing at home. Now, obviously, their joking truly was in jest and not trying to murder me. They too, for a majority of my teenage years, also attended the academy, but could do little to help me out though they did get themselves in trouble several times when they felt the ones bothering me had overstepped their limits.

Deep down, I would like to say that my peers at the academy were not trying to slaughter me when my back was turned, but…the verdict is most definitely still out.

Despite the fact that I was a little different. Okay. A lot different. They still viewed my brothers as above average at the academy. In fact, they were probably near the top of Zebonia's list as far as highest potential pupils who were up for being the tribute, in their later teen years. Plenty of times, I was compared to my siblings in the most unfair of ways, not by my parents, but others rather.

Titus, was the oldest of us. He was four years older than me while Ostro had two years over me. Titus was what every father would have dreamt of having, in a son. He was built very well and tall. We could always count on Titus to be the protector of the family should anything ever happen to father. Had I not been his sister, I would have been scared to have ever made an enemy of him because of his skill with a sword, but though he was strong; he was rather slow and awfully predictable if one paid enough attention to his movements.

Of course, not many people take the time to think this out when the adrenaline of battle kicks in which is probably the reason why he stayed ranked so high in the class at the academy.

Ostro, on the other hand, seemed to be a half-and-half mixture of both Titus and myself. He was burly and could give many of the top-ranked students a run for their money. He, like Titus, was more than likely going to be a tribute in the Games before he was past age 18. I always found Ostro to have much more of a sense of humor than Titus did though he used a little more brain-power and logic when fighting. If I ever needed to smile, then Ostro was the person to put one on my face.

And then there was me.

Little Savera.

To say that my parents didn't expect much out of me would have been a lie. Though I may not have been as strong or robust as my brothers, they still wished the best for me. In fact, they went to such lengths to try and explain to those at the academy that I was better suited to be trained in different ways. However, this took the turn for the worst when the lovely Zenobia burned with anger at the thought of this and the screaming from their meeting could have been heard from miles away.

I was simply happy that I still had parents after that meeting.

Needless to say, my parents had little interest or expectations from that academy concerning me. They simply told me to suffer through it until I was eighteen when I had more freedom.

Our family all resembled each other greatly, as well. My older brothers looked similar enough to be twins with chestnut brown hair (the same color as my own) that was a little more shaggy most of the time than my mother would have liked. Ostro was more manageable with his hair and complying with mother's standards, but if there was one thing that Titus didn't like…it was getting his hair cut.

Though I always desired long hair, mother settled with at my shoulders for me. I was satisfied with that, but secretly I had always told myself that whenever I moved out of my parents home…I would grow my hair out long.

All three of us children have large brown eyes, though Ostro's are closer to hazel, much like my mother's. Mother had eyes similar to his, but I was most built like our mother. She was naturally on the shorter side of the spectrum with her hair, seemingly permanently pinned atop of her head, with a curl spiraling down here and there. Father was quite the opposite, tall and sturdy with his dark hair cut very short in most of my memories with him.

Many a time, when my brothers would bother me I would try to sneak my way out of their grip in one way or another. Dad always told me that if I couldn't beat them in strength, beat them in wit. Therefore, with the help of dad, I was able to do the bare minimal in order to turn the events around and stand up for myself since I was receiving no benefit from the academy of death, as I called it.

Though I wasn't the most skilled at first, I had plenty of practice at home and at the academy I attempted it several times, causing frustration at times, but not enough to stir too much trouble.

One time in particular, I had stolen my brother, Titus's gloves, while we were at home after training and school. Only for a brief amount of time, might I add, for some sort of contraption I had built. All I clearly remember is that I would have returned his gloves in a matter of minutes, but his impatience was overpowering to say the least.

"Hey Savera!" He yelled as I sat in the far back piece of our property, tying the rope around the contraption consisting of a couple of bowls, sticks, my brother's gloves, and a jagged rock or two.

"What?" I answered half-heartedly, pushing my light brown, somewhat frizzy hair from my face as I tried to concentrate.

"You seen my gloves?" He cried and I gulped before exhaling.

"I'll give them back shortly," I answered calmly this time, as I finished tying the piece.

This was not the answer he was looking for. I heard him let out a groan as he presumably leaned against the support beam of the home several yards behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him storming toward me, determination set on his gloves tied to my newest invention. There was no way I would let him rip them from me now.

"Please, Titus, just let me-" I tried, but he simply picked up his pace.

This was my opportunity, as dad always told me to not let him pick on me because of my size. I may have only been a young teen and not much physically when stood up next to my brother, but mentally I was much stronger. I watched his footsteps, one after one as he came sailing toward me. Initially, I knew he would go for under my arms (my weak spot). If I allowed him to get me there, then I would have no chance, but if I could get around that….then I had a chance.

Step. Step. Step.

He was large and slightly uncoordinated. If anything, he was predictable. My size that was usually a flaw was going to be working against my sibling this time. Quickly, just before his hands could touch me, I ducked down and slid out of his reach. He swore under his breath before turning swiftly to meet my face, this too was far too predictable as I slid out of his reach, sliding between his wide-stance legs back toward my contraption that he was standing over.

It was a immature move…one that I had learned as a child, but…whatever worked, I would take advantage of.

"Savera!" He yelled as I dove for his gloves, quickly untying them from my contraption, holding them behind my back.

"Titus, please just let me finish and I will be more than happy to give them back," I said quickly, pulling myself to my feet opposite him as he turned and shook his head, though he had done little already, he simply shook his head and waved me off.

"Just do what you need to do," He grumbled, walking away, done with the game as he went back to the house. I simply shrugged my shoulders and sat back down to my contraption.

My brothers and father fit in to the district very nicely. Even though mother was unlike the other women, she could at least find common ground to speak with them at the market or on dinner nights. I, on the other hand, did not even find these similarities. Though I may be slightly biased, I don't think I had much of a role in how my peers judged me.

Naturally, I was not strong or as vicious as the others; therefore, I was the equivalent of raw meat just waiting to be pulverized.

Any chance they got to bother me, they took it. I tried to stay calm most of the time and simply turn the other cheek, but I do remember once turning the tables and watching how badly that turned out for all of us.

One of the older girls had come up on me, playing around with a knife. She might have been well-trained, but she was far from trustworthy with a knife. Using my logical skills that I had built up fairly strong by this time, I ended up in the position behind the girl, holding her own knife to her throat. She was left rather speechless, as was I.

Zenobia was less than thrilled to hear this and made sure to send me into the practice arena against one of the more vicious boys. I was still young enough that my skills were not finessed and I remember having bruises so deep from all of the times being continually hit from him. Days later, my whole body seemed to be covered in discoloring. My parents were furious, but they dared not stand up to her again. She was linked with the Capitol in ways that we dared not meddle in. Any bad word with the Capitol could not only mean my father losing his job, but also all of us simply…"disappearing" for better or worse terms.

This being the reason why I even attended the academy. I attended, I "fought", though most of the time I avoided their style of fighting, and then came home with little exchange of words with the others.

One girl, I remember, I would speak with every so often. She was who I did exchange few words with. Her hair was raven-black and I actually began to make a companion of her. Her name was Wren and she, like me, was not one of the best fighters. We relied on our ability to be cunning every once and a while to get us out of a difficult situation.

Were we the best of friends? Surely not, but we did speak to one another. By the time I was fourteen, I could at least list her as one of my "companions." She at least stood up for me against the others and I for her.

Every year, I remember the weeks when the academy would draw close to the Reaping. The day when the two tributes would be chosen. It was more of a scheme than anything. Always, the oldest and most experienced ones in the entire academy would be scheduled to volunteer for whomever it was that was chosen. For some reason, I couldn't help but think it was defeating the system, but if it was, then the Capitol hardly seemed to care. Our district seemed to be on decent terms with the Capitol.

Training was always cranked up nearly twice as hard as it usually was during the week of the Reaping, meaning I had to scurry around even more than I normally had to while up against another.

I feel as though I was dodging twice as many spears and twice as many knives during those weeks. There were plenty of close calls, such as a scrap here or there, but any chance that I got to leave the practice to go mend my wounds…I gladly took and even drew it out to be a little worse than what it was.

Year after year, as I grew older, I began counting down the days until I could leave this academy and not have to come back anymore. The days when I would not have to listen to the heavy set Zenobia yell at me to actually fight back and not act like a "weakling". If being a weakling kept me alive, then I was satisfied with being a weakling. The days when I could go out into the District and make a living for myself as something other than a fighter that I was clearly not.

"Who do you think is going to get it this year?" Wren asked me, one day as we came out of the practice arena, sweating from all of the running (dodging knives) we had been doing.

I remember pulling my hair out of my face and letting out a deep sigh, the Reaping was two days away," I don't know, but it hardly matters, right?"

She shrugged her shoulders as we approached the water station," It's always entertaining to guess for sport."

I smiled at her, joking as I said," That's all anyone seems to think of the Reaping and the real arena. As a big game…a sport to cheer about."

"I suppose its all we've got," She said reassuringly, tucking a strand of her black hair out of her face. We were standing in line for the water station and just as one of the eldest boy named Flux, got his drink. Flux was rather stuck on himself not because he was one of the most skilled out of the lot of us, but also because his father was a victor of the Hunger Games awhile back.

As expected, he enjoyed flaunting his power over the rest of us. Especially little ol' me who most certainly did not belong there. He was careful to knock over the container filled with water at that moment, simply to boil my blood. The sweat dripping from my face and the heat naturally coming from my body after the physical exertion naturally went up as I glared at the smart aleck, smirking at us with those bright green eyes as he walked away.

Arrogance. Ugh.

Zenobia happened to witness the act. For the first time, I thought that maybe he would get punished for his actions…but her eyes bore into Wren and I before she growled," Clean up the mess."

Rather than argue, I breathed out heavily and turned to get the cleaning supplies. Never had I been ordered to do such a lowly job, but apparently I had dropped quite significantly in the ranks. My brother Ostro, happened to witness this as well. Very few times would he stand up for me in a very public manner, because mother and father wished for me to fight my own battles, but I watched as he bit down hard on his lip.

"Ostro, please no," I muttered to him as Wren and I continued walking, simply wishing to clean up the mess.

"Savera, this is absolutely ridiculous!" He muttered to me, as the others stood, laughing in a huddle as they sipped their water. "Take my water."

He handed me his bottle, full of water, before storming over to the group of them. I could have stopped him, but it wasn't worth the fight with him. I simply sipped the water and passed it on to Wren as Ostro made a direct call out to the boy who had knocked over the water.

"Flux!" He called, standing up tall as the dark haired boy turned around, clearly oblivious to what was wrong for he had a grand, award-winning smile on his face.

"Hey man, what's-" Flux tried to ask stepping toward him, but before he could finish his sentence, Ostro had already reared back and swung hard against the boy's face with his curled up fist.

Zenobia's hawk-like eyes shot over and she glided over as quickly as I had ever seen her chubby legs carry her. Immediately, she pulled along two of the other older boys, my brother Titus being one of them. By the time they had ripped the two apart from one another, Ostro was spitting blood from his mouth and Flux had a prominent bruised, eye that appeared to be purple.

Both of them received an ear-full, especially Ostro who was expected to set a better example than to attack another "elite". Though she didn't directly say it like that, she most certainly insinuated it.

Titus held up Ostro as they approached Wren and I again, Flux went into the opposite direction. I simply looked at Wren and shook my head, slightly embarrassed at the sight of this.

"You should have just let it go," I mumbled to him as Titus sat him down on the bench toward the back of the room, Wren and I gathering around.

"Someone needed to stand up to him," Titus added, grabbing an ice pack from around the corner where we knew they would be found.

I glared at my brother who had not been involved," Don't encourage it."

"It is true, Savera," Wren added quietly, assessing the damage done to Ostro's bloody lip. "Someone needs to."

I sighed, seeing that there was no winning this argument. Though, I did look over my shoulder to see the rest of the academy swarming around Flux to make sure that he was, indeed alright. For some reason, the sight of their group of roughly twenty looked much more appealing than our small group of four. To use the Capitol's words in context," The odds were not ever in our favor," should we ever stand up to them in reality.

Every year, a list was posted of those who were eligible to volunteer. In one particular year, Flux, Titus, and Ostro were the three main prospects. It was expected that one of the three and only one of the three would be the male tribute. I paid little attention to the female tributes due to the fact that I had none of them as family members…nor were Wren or I anywhere near being eligible to volunteer. Over the days prior to the Reaping, the heads of the academy would set the top three against one another and then judge them in a manner very similar to how they would in the Capitol. On the day of the Reaping, the best of the best would be informed that they were to volunteer themselves.

I suppose that was the bright side: those at the bottom never had to worry about being reaped because someone at the top would certainly take their place.

Even if my name were to be reaped, I knew that I hadn't much to worry over. District Two wouldn't dare send someone such as myself in…there were other Career prospects who would out shadow me. In fact, I am fairly certain that I would not even compare in the slightest to any of the oldest girls.

Though I was not the topic of concern in our house, mother and father were still a nervous wreck in the days leading up to the reaping. Two of their three children were the top picks for being in the Games. They stayed at the top of the list for several years and eventually the time would have to come when one of them was sent in to the games. I remember watching the fights in the academy and not being able to imagine either of my brothers actually killing someone else.

Yet, I was going to have to get used to the thought for one year, the large trainer showed up on our doorstep with news that Titus would be the one to represent District Two in the Hunger Games.

Author's Note: So…to be entirely honest, I have been experiencing an extremely dry season here lately as far as writing goes. Creativity has been running low, but this idea of Hunger Games came into my head after finishing the series and seeing the movie and I had to put it into writing. I do not plan on abandoning my other stories, but I do plan on beginning to separate my time evenly between the three.

By the way, I do intend for Seneca Crane to be a big character in this story. Though at first, it may not seem like it. And this will definitely have elements from both the books and movie.

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think so far. :D