AUTHOR'S NOTE:

okay so just so you know, I own no rights to the hunger games, or anything like that.

Chapter One:

I love water. It's so peaceful under the waves, floating around and swimming, not to mention the guys swimming with me... meet rick: the hotshot of district 4. He's confident, cocky, funny, attractive, and doesn't know I exist. Now, meet Quincy: quiet, sweet, and cute, and knows I exist. Kinda. I really like them both for different reasons, and yeah.
My mind was wandering in the fantasy that is my underwater world, when the bell rang and ripped me out of my escape of water and bubbles and light. It made me remember. The 4th quarter quell. This is gonna be big, and, frankly, I'm scared.

I don't remember walking out of the water, getting to my beachside house, or even getting dressed, but yet here I am, in my gorgeous navy blue dress that my grandma made for me, with my chocolate hair, wavy and loose, cascading over my bare shoulders and down my back. My mom's heart shaped necklace around my neck, and my symbol: a small anklet made out of a thin copper wire with red white and blue beads tied into it. It's been on my ankle for months, much to the disapproval of my parents, but whatever. I made it to prove a point: that I can do what i want, without help, and nobody can stop me.

When the reaping hour finally arrived, I went to the "pool," which isn't really a pool at all, more like a crowd of frantic teens. I quickly found Tom, my best friend, and stood with him as president Ice read the quarter quell scroll. "Hello district 4! We have happily reached the 100th hunger games! This means this is in fact the 4th quarter quell, which is why we're starting the reapings in this fine district 4. Now, I'll skip the boring details and go straight to what you've all been waiting to hear. As you all must know, the quarter quells are special games, with special changes in the rules. This year, we're going to have bot 24, not 48, but 72 tributes! Yes, this means that there will be 3 male tributes and 3 female tributes. Now, let us begin the reaping."

The reaping itself was a blur. 2 other girls that I don't really know's names getting called. Their families crying. My name getting called. I vaguely remember crying, but thats it. I think my family was bawling, but I'm not sure. All I remember was Tom hugging me, telling me to please come back alive, for him, and my sister Maranda grabbing my arm, and slipping a locket in my hand, and me crying, and hugging my sister, the next thing I remember is being on the stage and hearing Ricks name, then Quincy. Then Tom. The tears keep on streaming down. I look at my family. My sister's bawling, my moms screaming, my dads just staring into nothingness.

My mom, shell-shocked from the loss of Grandad, (the best, kindest, wisest man that will ever live) is shaking her head. She did her best to protect us from the gore and carnage of the games, mainly because she experienced it, and it scarred her. Yes, my mom's a victor, and I can see it in her eyes that she's worried that I might not have her luck. She looks disappointed, like she failed, and she did, in a way. She failed to protect me and Maranda from the horror of the games. I try to smile, for her sake, but the best i can do is pull one corner of my mouth up a bit and shrug. I wish I can run over there and hug her, tell her I'll be fine, and I'll come back. I wish that I was closer to my mom, maybe then I would have been able to talk to her about the quincy/rick situation, get some advice. I think about all i wish i could have told her: how scared I am, for one. I know that I cant though, not now. Like when Grandad died, I have to be strong, and brave, for her. It's the least I can do.

Maranda seems to have lost it. She's screaming, crying, and trying to run up onstage, but the peacekeepers won't let her. She starts yelling, kicking, and punching. Uhoh. I tell myself she'll be fine, but I know she won't be, not if she keeps on panicking. I tell her to calm down. To Relax, and that I'm fine. She looks up at me and backs off, whispering please come back, and runs away, back to my family.

My dad looks heartbroken. I've always been his little girl, his princess, and now I'm going away to the hunger games. I want to run into his arms and sob, but I can't. We lock glances. With my eyes, I tell him I love him, and I promise to come back. He tells me he loves me, that I'll always be his princess, and to please come back.

With all this stress and pressure, I feel lightheaded. I pass out. The last thing I remember is tom, asking me if I'm ok, then nothing