I stand in the sea of villagers in the centre of town, right in front of the Justice Building, in Area 12. Waiting for the names of the next two Tributes. The reaping.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour." The white-haired lady from the Capitol says. She has a big, curly wig on and a dark violet dress with matching shoes. And she is wearing far too much make-up on to tell if she's a human women or a clown. Her name is- actually, I don't know her name. Too terrified to really care.

The Hunger Games. Just the thought of it makes me sick. Since the Great War between the areas and the Capitol, the Capitol said that there needs to be a sacrifice. No, a reminder to remind us what power the Capitol has, and what they can do to us. That 'reminder' is when one male and one female Tribute from each of the twelve areas go into an arena that is placed somewhere in the Capitol, to compete in a killing game. Last man standing wins. Kids. The Tributes are children from the ages of twelve to eighteen. If someone from the same sex as you is called, you have a choice of whether or not you want to volunteer for that person, and take their place in the Games. This rarely happens and if it does, he/she must really care for that person or is asking for a death wish.

I stand with the seventeen year old girls, fingers crossed and hoping that it won't be my name that is called.

I turn my head to the eighteen year old boys, searching their faces for Loke. He's easy to find because of his bright orange hair. Loke is my closest (and only) friend. We met two years ago when we traded A blanket and a loaf of bread for paper and an old book. I love reading and writing, its my dream to become an author one day. But it won't happen here in 12. Reading and writing are my only talents, unless You count not being social and hiding in the shadows as a talent.

its okay, you'll be had told me as we hugged before parting as we went off to the reaping.

"Time to choose this years Tributes." The Capitol lady said happily while everyone else looked at her with horror. "As we all know, ladies first. She walks to two big glass bowls placed on a table on the middle of the stage of the Justice Building. She throws her right hand in and carefully digs through the thousand slips of paper that our names are neatly printed on. She lifts her hand up after a couple of seconds, her hand firmly gripping onto a piece of paper.

Its not me, its not me.

"the girl Tribute is..."

Its not me. Its okay because its not going to be me. I'll be fine, just how Loke said.

"Lucy Heartfillia."

I'm frozen in fear as my name echoes through the town square. Its impossible. This couldn't of have just happened. No, not impossible, but not likely. All the seventeen year old girls step away from me. Making invisible-me visible. I hate being on the spot light. That's why I like to stay away from big crowds. But right now I'm being pulled out if my comfort zone.

"Come come. Don't be afraid."

Don't be afraid? Did she really just say that? I'm about to go into a killing game, kill other kids around my age or younger to survive. Some Tributes from areas 1, 2 and 3 will have, like usual, the advantage because they are trained for this most of their lives. And she's telling me not to be afraid?!

I walk slowly, but then turn around once again and see Loke staring right back at me. But this time, the twinkling light that is usually shinning in his eyes are replaced with shock and fear.

Three Peacekeepers (they're like guards in a sense, but for the Capitol) come to me and grabbed my arms and the other followed at our heels. Someone tried to run away when their name was called at the reaping, so now they're just taking pre-caution.

Once they lead me to the stage, I see that not only the Capitol lady and the bowls sit in the stage, but three chairs as well. Two are occupied by the mayor of 12, Makarov, and 12's last living victor, Gildarts.

Once I'm on the stage, standing on the right hand side of the Capitol lady, I look qt the crowd of people, and they give me looks of sadness and terror in return.

"Well we have our girl Tribute, now to choose the boy Tribute." The lady tosses her hand in the second bowl, and spins her hand in the pieces of paper. Once she's done fishing for the name of the next poor soul, she unfolds the paper and reads loud and clear:

"Natsu Dragneel."