Authors Note: Hey everyone! I just want to note that this is a collaboration between me and my friend Ryan.

Also, Suzanne Collins owns The Hunger Games and all of it's characters. I fully acknowledge that without her, my story would be completely impossible.

Lastly, I welcome any and all criticisms! I know that my writing style needs improvements and I would appreciate any help!

Chapter One

-The Flint's-

The sun was bearing down on our dusty town square as our mayor, Angus Bramstone, began to introduce our eccentric Capitol escort, Tamika Nitten. She was dressed in the usual farce— Her top was an obscene neon green with bouffant shoulders and sleeves. The skirt was no better. It appeared to be made out of black spikes that pointed towards the audience. It made her even less inviting than usual. Her wig was bright pink this year… I like it more than last year's baby vomit yellow. She began the usual story about the never forgotten rebellion and I decided it was a safe moment to zone out.

Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I had been born before the rebellion. Sure, some things were wrong back then or people wouldn't have rebelled— but I can't imagine that anything was worse than the Hunger Games. They never had to live with the fear of being reaped or having to kill their friends or family. My parents never let us forget. They've been training us since we were five.

District 10 doesn't have training centers like the Career districts so my parents had to make do with our home. When we were five, we started with the easy stuff like finding edible berries, tying basic knots and starting fires. Each year we progressed and by the time we were twelve, we could survive on our own in the wilderness for three days. That was our test. On the evening of our twelfth birthdays, our dad would walk us to the electric fence surrounding District 10 and wish us luck. Three days later we were supposed to meet him at the fence at sundown. My older brother Arsene is five years older than me, so he went first. He ended up getting lost and didn't show up until the morning of the fourth day. Mom and Dad were afraid that they had made a horrible decision. However, when he showed up, he said it really taught him a lot. He just needed to learn how to find North without a compass. After that, we would spend evenings outside looking at the stars, remembering the positions and finding the North Star. On the weekends, Dad would walk us to the middle of the forest and then have one of us lead him back out.

By the time I was twelve, we could find North blindfolded. Dad led me to the fence that evening and wished me good luck. I ducked under the electric fence, waved good bye to Dad and headed off into the forest. That night was the scariest night of my life. I was so cold that the tip of my toes tingled with every step and it hurt to bend my fingers. Every single noise was magnified until it sounded like murderous giants were stomping through the bushes and breaking the trees. I refused to sleep while I huddled in between my "sleeping bag" of branches, leaves and grass. However, as soon as the sun came up, I was exhausted and passed out. I woke up around three or four and was unbelievably thirsty and hungry. I checked the snares I had set that night and found a squirrel. I started a fire, seven years of practice made it a pretty quick job. After I skinned and gutted it, I stuck it on a stick and roasted him over the flames. It wasn't the most delicious meal, but it quelled my hunger. After that, I hiked to my favorite stream and hurriedly drank the cool spring water.

While dusk painted the sky, I set a few more snares and made another bed of leaves and grass. That night, I slept but still awoke at every sound. The next day went much like the previous except that I decided to make a spear. I practiced throwing it at rabbits and other varmints, but missed every single one. That night, I slept in a tree. While I was out hunting I had found one with a crook I could fit into. I finally felt safe. I spent my final day practicing with my homemade spear. At midday, I had shot a rabbit and a squirrel and I was getting even better. By the time I met my Dad at the fence, I had two squirrels, two rabbits and even a bird! He was proud and we celebrated with a cake made out of the tesserae grain.

Two years ago was my sister Alouette's turn and she did even better than I did. She came home with a deer. I am not sure how she carried it from the stream to the fence, but she did and it fed us for over a week.

Wilderness survival isn't the only training we receive. Instead of reading or relaxing on evenings like many families, we practice hand-to-hand combat and throwing knives. We can't throw spears in the house, mom doesn't really appreciate it, so we have to save that for weekends in the forest. Arsene is the best at hand-to-hand, I'm the best at throwing knives and Alouette is the best aim with a spear. Together, we would destroy the competition. However, we could never go into the games together. Even if two of us did, we would end up having to murder each other.

Our parents also make us keep extensive notes on each Hunger Game. Throughout the year, we all sneak home extra paper from school and make notebooks out of it. During the Games, we fill our first notebook with notes on tactics, interviews, and survival skills. Once the Games are over, we fill our second notebook with our future strategies. If we get reaped, our notebooks hold everything from our interview strategies to how to react after we kill. Mom and Dad allow us to make the strategies our own, but they do guide us to better ideas when necessary.

Today, the 31st Hunger Games is starting. Arsene and I are wearing our gray jeans and black button ups while Alouette wears her only yellow sundress. We walked together down our dusty road, past the cattle and swine farms on our left and right, and stopped in our town square. We have every intention of walking along that trail back into our crowded home as soon as this is over. Before then, we have to prick our fingers and wait in our assigned areas until one, or two, of our friends are assigned to their deaths. Mom and Dad will be waiting in the crowd, Mom with only Alouette and I's notebooks tucked in her knapsack since Arsene is twenty-two and no longer has to be prepared. Hopefully she will not have to open it until we get home this evening and she can place them with the rest of our discarded strategies.

May the odds be ever in our favor—

"Alouette Flint!"

I don't understand. I had to have misheard that. My eyes raced across the crowd and found my sister. She was standing, mouth open in shock. She looked over and found Arsene and I. My heart stopped when she nodded her head and took her first step forward.

Tamika bent down to welcome my only sister to the stage, with a deformed grin transforming her face.

"Welcome Alouette! You are quite the cutie!"

When my sister reached her place on the stage, she performed her overly practiced curtsy.

"Thank you, Ms. Nitten. I hope my audience thinks so as well."

She then looked up to the nearest camera and winked. My sister was breaking out her charming strategy right away. Tamika expressed a theatrical shock.

"What manners this young girl has! She will fair well in the Capitol, I am sure of it! Well now, we must move on to the boys! Hopefully he will be just as proper and polished as this little cutie here!"

She then tip toed her way to the glass bowl that held my peers and I's names. I turned as I felt someone's hand grasp my shoulder. Arsene had shouldered his way across the crowd to be with me. He looked down and nodded. His eyes were brimming with stoic tears. We both looked back up as she was reaching her black, pointed nails into the jar. Her fingers clutched a strip of paper and brought it out to her lips.

"Well, well! This could prove interesting!"

My fists clenched. God, just read the name!

"Tabac Flint!"

But… that's my name.