The birds chirped sweetly as the hot sun rose over District 7. The rays broke through the morning mist and laid softly on the blossoming green grass and leaves as the lumberjacks gathered their tools and began a long day of tiresome work.

One such worker is me, Ethan Mayne. I'm 18 years old, and I've been chopping up lumber since I was old enough to walk. By this point the woods are my unwelcoming second home, and an axe my brother. Today however, may very well be my last ever shift. After tomorrow it's possible that I'll never work alongside my dad in these woods ever again. For others my age, and those slightly younger, it's possible too.

You may think, why? Why specifically tomorrow? Well, the answer reocurs every year. The Hunger Games. Tomorrow the Reaping will take place, there one male and one female between the ages of 12 and 18 will be selected at random to be shipped off to the Capitol, where they'll be prepped and pampered for a week before competeing in a televised fight to the death. This monstrous and brutal invention was introduced to Panem over 70 years ago, and acts as a yearly reminder that we - in the twelve districts surrounding the Capitol - are inferior, are slaves to our betters. The original intention behind them was to serve as a punishment for those who survived the failed rebellion against the Capitol during the Dark Days, to ensure their loyalty hence forth. After all, what better way to punish rebels then to make sure their children,
and their childrens chlidren, are the ones who suffer.

I hate them - we all do - with everything that makes us human, but I understand why the Capitol use them to strike fear in our hearts, to make us afraid. The districts may have failed to overthrow the Capitol 71 years ago, but they got closer then the Capitol ever suspected they would. If it weren't for the fall of District 13, we may have lived in a better Panem now.

Anyway, taking the Games into consideration, I'm actually one of the lucky ones. See, because I'm 18, this is the last year that i'll ever be entered in the draw. If my name isn't drawn tomorrow, then I'll never have to kill somebody to save myself. I have brothers though, Finn and Eric, and they still have many years left in the draw. So whilst i'm thrilled that it will fianlly be over for me, I'm sick by the thought of my brothers getting picked and me being unable to volunteer for them. I can tomorrow though, and if their name is pulled out of that bowl my hand will be the first raised high.

I know what it feels like to have my name in - sometimes more than once - but I've always wondered what our parents must feel. When I scrambled out of bed this morning their mood was dampened. My mom was running around frantic as always this close to a Reaping, and my dad was trying to pretend it was just another normal week, but even he was finding it hard to hold it together. Finn and Eric were no better, silent and paler than snow as they ate breakfast.
I had to get out of there as fast as I could, I can't stomach to see them that way, year after year after year.

Around 9am, I had started working beside my dad, lumbering only a small section of the trees in District 7. A few hours later and the sun is beating down relentlessly on us. Me and my dad would sneak breaks whenever the Peacekeepers passed by us, as would some of the others we often worked with. If we were ever caught there would be hell to pay, but every one of us is more then prepared for that.

The group of Peacekeepers pass by for a third time, waving their guns around just because they can, ignoring them we sneak another break when they disappear. Dad and I are silent for awhile as we catch our breath, the sounds of the axes cutting through the bark and trees falling to the ground.

Placing a strong, splintered hand on my shoulder, my dad sighs. "About the Reaping tomorrow..." he trails off.

Upon the mention of the Reaping my ears prick up. Every year it's the same,
him making me promise that I won't volunteer or do anything stupid, and every year he gets the same answer.

"You don't have to volunteer. You know that right?"

"I know." I wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead. "Better me then Finn or Eric though."

I knew he couldn't dispute that when he fell silent. It's not like I want to volunteer, matter of fact the idea of giving those assholes in the Capitol a good show makes me nauseous. It's just something I have to do should the worst come to pass.

Standing up I retake my chopping axe and get back to work. Soon after my dad follows suit, just in time for the next Peacekeeper patrol.

"Don't worry about me dad." I say inbetween pants. "Just look out for mom, Eric and Finn."

Dad nods sadly, but his voice is stern as he says. "Just promise me... If it isn't one of your brothers, you won't volunteer."

I stop working and wipe away my built up sweat once more. I look to him, and he had stopped working too, patiently awaiting my answer.

"I promise."

My words make him smile, if only a little. As for me, I don't beleive what I said even a bit. I'm not the kind of person who can watch somebody I know get picked to die. And with precious few friends, my will to help them is just greater.

Later that evening I retire to my little getaway spot, not far from where I work during the majority of the day. For some reason the Peacekeepers rarely come by, and since it isn't out of the fences it isn't illegal to be here so long as the curfew isn't in place. In all honesty, it's nothing special. Just more trees looming over the clearing, dull and weathered for all the years it's been left standing. Twigs and leaves lay buried beneath the thick mud, practically becoming a part of the ground and making it bumpy as hell. There's a hill too, that blocks out any view of the village there may have been. Like I said, it isn't much, but it is peaceful. A place where you can forget about your troubles and just relax as the sun sets in the sky. Still,
even this small piece of heaven can't shake away my fears of the Reaping. See I'm always worried for my brothers, and if my name is drawn this year I can live with that, be thankful even. But if it's one of them... I can always volunteer, but the mental damage it would deal is unreal.

"Boo!"

I jump up from my space on the muddy ground, ready to attack anybody who made a move on me. I soon lowermy fists though, because the owner of that voice is no other than my idiot friend with half a brain, Reggie. He's my best friend in fact, and almost falls to the ground gripping his stomach because he's laughing so hard. Typical, even with a Reaping making us all paranoid, Reg is still Reg.

"You better quit doing that!" I warn.

Reggie only continued to laugh at me. "The look on your face."

"Don't tempt me Reg." I point at him. "Otherwise i'll make you miror this look."

"Relax man, it's just a joke." Reg pushes his glasses further up his nose and sighs.

I throw myself back down on the ground with a huff, shaking my head. Reggie followed suit, and sat down beside me, using the old oak tree to rest his back against.

"Sorry." My voice is a quiet mumble.

"It's okay. I think everbody is a litle worked up today. With the Reaping tomorrow and all." Reg tries to smile,to maintain that positive outlook of his, but the thought of tomorrow is getting to him too.

I sigh "Tell me about it. Mom hasn't said a word all day and my brothers are on the verge of tears."

"And you?" Reggie asks.

Shrugging I say, "I can manage my name being drawn. But not Eric, or Finn."

"But this is your last year in the draw. You don't get picked tomorrow and that's that. Done. Free from the Reaping forever."

"I know."

It may be my last year in the draw, but it also means my name is entered seven times, the maximum amount without any extra slips for tesserae or troublemaking. That means I have one of the highest chances of being selected.

Reggies mouth forms the perfect 'o' "That's it? That's all you can say?"

My only answer is a nod.

"You're insane man. I'd give anything for this to be my last year." He shakes his head. "Even my remaining hand."

That makes me feel slightly guilty. Reggie is only 16 this year, which means he still has two more years of this crap after tomorrow. He always says he won't stand a chance in the arena, and I hate to agree with him, but with only his weakest hand remaining - after losing his right one in an accident with the machines at work - and his terrible asthma, he wouldn't last a day with in the Games.

"Reg.." I try to apologise.

"You don't have to say sorry to me, Ethan." He cuts me off. "I understand where you're coming from. If I could've volunteered for Jane a few years ago, I would have."

I won't ever forget that year. Reggie's younger sister Jane was in her first Reaping two years back. Her name was drawn, one tiny slip of paper in a bowl of thousands, and hers was the one. Nobody volunteered in her place, but Reggie tried too, of course only another female can take the place of a female tribute. It was heartbreaking too watch in the arena. Jane didn't survive the bloodbath at the Cornucopia on the first day. Nobody saw the family for weeks, not even me.

"I can't imagine your dad is thrilled by the idea." Reg changes the topic of our conversation.

More than undertanding why he wanted to change it, I forget that we were ever talking about it.
"He made me promise not to volunteer for anybody other than my brothers."

"I agree with him." Reggie nods. "Nobody wants to lose a child."

Silence fell over us after that. There isn't much else to really talk about, aside from the Games, and that's hardly a nice topic. Not to mention the curfew is now just a half hour away, if we're still outside then we're in for a beating or two by our friendly peacekeeper force.

"Should probably head home." I say after a while. "Don't really fancy running into a Peacekeeper during curfew."

With a chuckle, Reggie jumps to his feet and brushes the mud off his pants. "Yeah, I wouldn't suggest that."

Together we begin alking back to our village, just beyond the mills. There's hardly anybody about, those that are are mostly store owners closing up for the evening and most of tomorrow. I think everybody else is too afraid to step out of their front doors, due to how ruthless the Peacekeepers can be around Hunger Games season. Though they're usually worse during the Victory Tours.

A loud crash and shouting catches our attention, drawing our eyes across the street, where a woman around her later fourties is yelling hysterically at a younger woman, most likely around my age. I'm assuming the older one is the young womans mother, and she seems worried, taking a guess off of her creased brow and wide, teary eyes. I can't hear what they're saying, however the more the younger one talks, the more hysterical the older one gets.

Even when Reggie has taken off down the road I stand back and watch the exchange. The elder woman eventually runs inside, and the younger one turns on her heel and starts walking my way. There's a brief moment that she looks up from the ground, her dark green eyes looking straight at me.

"Ethan come on man!" Reggies hollering makes me look the other way, and when I look back the young woman is already turning a corner and disappearing from view.

Five minuets later and we were home. Being neighbors meant we both got back in time before the curfew offcially took effect and the Peacekeepers begin to patrol the streets in larger droves than they already do during the day.

Saying our goodbyes, we both wish each other luck for tomorrow, and then headed inside.

My mood changed drastically as i entered my home. I knew i'd have to face my mom, and she was always a wreck the night before a Reaping. Taking a deep breath, i toughened up and pushed open the door that led to the dining room. My brothers sit side by side at the table, dad on the other side and my mom was over by the stove.

Turning around with a baking tray in hand, my mother smiles warmly and says "Oh honey, just in time, dinners ready."

I barely recognise just how hungry i am until i smell the fresh dough of homemade bread and stew. Mom's cooking is amazing, something i'll miss should i be chosen for the games. Taking a seat at the table beside my father, I smile as my mother lays the bowls of stew on the table and places the bread loaf in the centre. As soon as she herself is seated, we all dig into our food, except for Finn.

Noticing his neglect of his food, my mother placed her spoon on the table and said "What's wrong Finn honey?"

Finn continued to play with his food, causing me to look up properly from my own bowl with concern.

"What's up buddy?" I ask.

Finn's deep blue eyes left his bowl to look around the table. He made eye contact with each one of us, before throwing his spoon onto the table and shrugging.

"How can we all just sit here and pretend everything is normal" the young boy burst with an anger that's alien to us. "The Reaping is tomorrow, one of us could be chosen for the games. Each year we act the same and I'm tired of it".

With that Finn stormed out of the dinning room and slammed the door shut. Soon after, Eric follows Finn, not saying a word as he creeps away from the table.

Things after that are silent. I didn't know what to say, and my parents both sat at the table just staring off into the distance until they slowly began to eat.

As fast as i could I finish off my food. I grab my bowl as I stand up from my chair, and make my way over to the sink to wash up. Before leaving the room, I was sure to go over to mother and thank her for making dinner. It was a simple gesture, but the slight smile on her face was sure comforting.

Before retiring to my own room for the night, I knock on the door that leads to my brothers' bedroom and walk in. Both of them are awake, talking through two plastic cups attached with a long string. They stop when I enter though, and sit up in their beds looking at me.

"You guy's alright?" I ask as i sit down on the end of Eric's bed.

Neither say anything, instead the looks on their faces answer my question.

"Look" I start. "It's okay to be scared. Most people are."

"Are you scared, Ethan?" Eric asks.

I'd question my sanity if I wasn't. It's not like these games are fake, where you pretend to fight each other. It's real, and twenty three kids and teens never go home again.

"I am." I smile sadly. "You two are going to be okay this year. I promise. Now try to get some sleep okay."

Finn and Eric nod, and both lay down to snuggle up in their beds. "Night Ethan." They say.

Closing the door behind me, I left my younger brothers to sleep.

Entering my own room i closed the door, stripped out of my work cloths and climbed into bed. As i lay there, in the darkness of my room, I stare at the outline of the smart shirt and pants that hung onto the back of the bedroom door and hope tomorrow will be okay. That nobody i care for will be Reaped, that they won't have to face the games. That I can wear those clothes to onemore Reaping only and then never have to look at them again.

Closing my eyes, I fought away the thought of the Reaping and the Hunger night, I fall asleep listening to the soft cries of my mother from the opposite room.