I lay down in the meadow, hand underneath my head, staring up at the sky. The sun is high in the sky, forcing me to squint. I don't know exactly what I'm looking at. There is nothing but blue sky above me. No clouds in sight. I take a deep breath and let it out. This is the first day in months that I haven't had a gun in my hands. It feels nice to be able to relax.

It's a warm summer's day near the end of July. The weather here in District 7 is usually cool. We're lucky if we can get perfect weather even in the middle of summer. So these are the kind of days that I treasure. It may seem lame to the other guys, but I like to come out here in the field near my house and take in nature. I usually have some company, but there is none today. It's mostly girls that come out here (which I'm perfectly fine with).

This girl Iris that I used to date comes around on Tuesdays. Today isn't Tuesday; it's Friday. I miss Iris terribly. We stopped dating nearly three months ago, but not a day goes by that I don't wish we were still together. We're still great friends, but it's not good enough for me. I hate going to school and seeing her talk to all of the other guys. There should only be one guy she talks to and that's me.

"Marxus, watch me!" My little brother calls out. I prop myself up onto my elbows and watch as Griffin tumbles forward, feet over his head, his strange, long brown hair covering his face. His school pants are getting messy, but I don't care. I say let the kid be a kid. My mother doesnt quite agree with that though. I laugh to myself and clap loudly.

"Great job." He grins at me and stands tall as if he had just won an award. Just as I'm about to encourage him to do another, an alarm sounds throughout the district. I'm immediately at attention and race to my little brother. He must have noticed the anxiety in my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Let's head back home." I say stiffly, gripping his hand strong. I try to smile down at him, but it just won't come. I know the smile looks forced. And Griffin is smart enough to know when something is wrong. He may be only six years old, but he knows more about the threat of the Capitol than many of the other kids in the district. It must be because both his older brother and his father were forced to go to war for the Capitol.

I haven't been one to hide anything from Griffin. He knows everything from what really happened in the war to what goes on in the other districts. So when the alarm rang out, I'm he was already aware that something was the matter.

What could it be? I run through all the possible situations on the way home. It could be another proclamation of war or a meeting to get the army back together. There could be a freak storm coming our way and the Capitol wants to warn us. Or maybe it was another broadcasted execution. I don't know if I can deal with watching another one of my friends be killed on Capitol television.

Over the past month there have been nearly twenty executions broadcasted on television for everyone to see. Ever since the war was over and the rebels were defeated, the Capitol found and executed everyone they deemed a traitor. Most of them were men and boys that I had fought with at one point. It's sad to watch.

Every time the Capitol symbol comes on our television, my stomach gets in a knot and I begin to sweat. Every time. I can't help it. It's like the war all over again. It's like my first day with the rest of the army, a peacekeeper stuffing a gun into my hands and ordering me to shoot anyone who isn't wearing a bright white outfit. I'm only fifteen years old. I shouldn't have to deal with wars or the guilt that comes along with killing people.

War is not a place for boys who just want to come home to their mothers.

We are close to our house when I hear the blare of other family's televisions. So Griffin and I take off at a run in order to make it to our house in time for the announcement. You see, there are televisions here in District 7, but no one really uses them unless the Capitol is broadcasting something in all of Panem. Televisions were on all day and night during the war. Updates would flash across the screen at obscure times in order to keep everyone watching. At least that was my mother's theory. She told me that she got barely any sleep when I was away. Her anxieties got worse and she started falling apart. Thank God for Griffin who kept her and the house in line. I love that little guy. He's like a mini me.

We burst through the front door just as the Capitol symbol disappears. I plop down on the couch next to my mother and Griffin wiggles his way between me and the arm rest. Our couch isn't very big. When my father was still alive, Griffin and I weren't allowed to sit on the couch. Only my mother and father could fit and because they are our superiors, we had to give them the couch.

It's a good thing that my sister Willow doesn't live with us anymore. She's twenty years old and got married just a few months ago. Now she lives with her husband just down the road. The good part about this is that me and Griffin don't have to share anything with her anymore.

So now we can all fit on the couch. Until Griffin grows bigger that is. He's already big for a kid his age. I'm scared to think how much he will grow by the next year.

"Attention citizens of Panem." President Septimus says, appearing on the screen. He looks the same as he always has, short black hair, rough, unshaven face, beaded necklace wrapped tight around his throat. I keep hoping that it will choke him.

"As you know, the Dark Days are over; the war is won. There is no more danger to be found, no more lives to be lost. We are victorious."

Oh, we know. If the war was still going on, I wouldn't be sitting here on the couch with my family. I would be sleeping in the mud in some trench out in District 13. That's where I would be. And where would President Septimus be? Probably in his safe, cozy mansion sipping on some tea and reading a book, far from the war. So what does he care about the danger being gone?

"I wish to give a sincere thank you to all of those who fought alongside the Capitol." Septimus continues. "Especially those from Districts 1 and 2 who donated supplies and their time to help us become victorious. As for the other districts, you were disloyal to the Capitol and that comes at a price. There will be a punishment for all of the districts to remind you that the Capitol is in charge and that we have your lives in our hands."

My mother squeezes my hand. Her grip is firm and hurts, but I refuse to peel her hand away. I turn to look at her. She's tired. I can see the bags underneath her eyes, nearly three layers of them. Her short black hair is in a tangled mess. There are twigs and tiny pieces of fuzz sticking out of it. If there weren't so many, then I would start picking them out. But there is too much. She'll have to take a shower. I'll even give her the rest of the warm water, something that is a luxury here.

The dress she is wearing looks like it hasn't been washed in years. It's a soft green color with long sleeves and a white apron down the front. Food stains have turned the apron a gray color. The brown shoes on her feet look like they gave her blisters even before she put them on. They are way too small for her feet.

I feel sad at what my mother has become. This is my first day home from war. Sure it was over nearly two months ago, but I wasn't sent back here until this morning. For the past month and a half I have been living with a family in District Six. There was a really nice small family I roomed with. They had a girl around my age. I can't remember her name, but she was who I spent all of my time with. I miss her. Too bad I'll never see her again.

My attention is pulled back to the screen when Septimus explains about the Treaty of Treason. I'm surprised that this is actually happening. I heard rumors spreading through the armies about a Treaty of Treason being drafted, but no one ever thought that it would truly happen.

My heart is racing now. I can feel sweat dripping down my forehead. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Whatever President Septimus is about to say, it won't be good. It can't be; not after the war. Everything will be worse than it was before. Life can't get any better from now on. It just can't.

"I will now read to you the Treaty of Treason, which was drafted by the leaders of the Capitol army." Septimus clears his throat and picks up a white sheet of paper. Squinting at the words, he begins to read.

"In penance for their uprising,"

Ah yes, the uprising. The one I fought in. I fought for the Capitol. I wasn't on the rebel's side. I should have been. Why wasn't I? That's right; the Capitol army marched through the district and demanded that I join. It was all boys ages fifteen and older were told to report to the town square to be evaluated and chosen to join the army. I was one of the unlucky seven that were chosen.

"Each district shall offer up one male and one female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public 'reaping'."

A reaping? I dare not look anywhere else but at the television screen. I can't miss anything else that Septimus says or does. I want to know what he is talking about. No, I need to know.

It can only get worse from here, right? Why would each district offer up a girl and boy? And offer them up for what? This is making me sick. My stomach is in a knot, my head hurts, my mother is still squeezing my hand, nearly cutting off my circulation. And I can feel her grip tightening too.

"These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol."

I knew it; the Capitol is directly involved. Of course they are. What was it that Septimus had said at the beginning? Something about a punishment for all of the districts because we went against the Capitol.

But this is low, even for Septimus. Giving up kids? Not even ones close to adulthood. Twelve year olds. He's going to kidnap twelve year olds. That's basically what this is now, a kidnapping. And then they will…

Oh no. No. This can't be happening. This is a nightmare. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to force myself to wake up. I know it's a dream, I just know it. No matter how hard I try to make it one though, I have to realize that this is not a dream. This is real life. President Septimus is really on this television screen telling all of Panem about the Hunger Games.

It's something that I heard from the older men in the army. It was after our last battle that the rumors started. Someone overheard a peacekeeper talking about it and the new spread like rapid fire.

There is going to be a Hunger Games because the districts were unfaithful.

We all thought it was just a rumor. I mean, it couldn't have been true. It was beyond cruel. Sending twenty four kids into an arena to kill each other? Not even the Capitol would do something that harsh. It just wasn't realistic. Septimus would never do that to his people.

But he did. And he's announcing it now, telling all of Panem that they need to fear for their kid's lives; their lives if they're in the age range. Right now there are families all around Panem crying, screaming, cursing the Capitol for what they do to us. There will be more uprisings, I'm sure of it. No one will want to agree to this. It's utter madness.

The Capitol could've done anything else. They could've taken even more food from us. We're already starving; what's there to lose if all we can eat everyday is a loaf of bread? I had corn for breakfast and some cheese for lunch. That's just about what a loaf of bread would be.

I find myself wishing that the Capitol would starve us. Once the idea is in my head, I run with it. Why not? Just starve the districts, wait for a bunch of us to die, and then start feeding everyone who is still alive. That's basically what the Hunger Games is about, offering up twenty-three people to die for the Capitol. No, not for them, because of them. Because of the Capitol, there will be twenty-three children dead, twenty-three families grieving the loss of their children.

It's not right.

I feel my mother's grip loosen and she pulls her hand back. A cry escapes her lips before she forces her hands over her mouth. Griffin is tugging at my sleeve, begging me to explain what's going on.

But I can't tell him. How am I supposed to explain it to him? There is nothing to say. He is only six years old. There is no way to tell a six year old that the people in charge of their country and their life are going to offer up twenty-three children to die every year. It's sick. It's inhumane. It's crazy.

I can't tear my eyes away from the television screen. Not even when Septimus leaves and is replaced by the Capitol symbol. I don't get up to join the uproar in the small area outside of our house. There are people pounding on our door, but no one gets up to answer the door. We're all frozen in our spots, even Griffin.

The words keep echoing in my mind, reminding me over and over again about how cruel the Capitol is. And I will never forget these words as long as I live.

"And then they will be transferred to a public arena where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore, this pageant shall be known as the Hunger Games."