From the Treaty of the Treason. In penance for their uprising each district shall offer up a male and female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public reaping.

These tributes will be delivered to the custody of the Capitol, and then transferred to a public arena where they will Fight to Death, until a lone victor remains.

Henceforth and forevermore, this pageant shall be known as the Hunger Games.


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Natasha's P.O.V

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"Natasha! NATASHA!"

Hairs standing on the back of hair neck, I rush inside the tiny room and find my screaming, thrashing brother as he tries to wake himself from his current nightmare. He tosses and turns desperately searching for something to help ground him.

On instinct I run over to the bed, climb on top and straddle his legs. Bracing my hands on his shoulders, I shake him softly, whispering soothingly, "Aiden... Aiden! Baby, wake up."

There's a brief pause before Aiden jumps upright quickly, shirt clinging to his body with sweat and his chest heaving with labored breaths. My hand flies to the back of his head as I lean it on my chest and, slowly, I feel his heartbeat start to go down. He looks up at me in fear and clutches to me as I hold him tighter. "Ssh its okay, it's okay. You were dreaming. It was only a dream."

He shakes his head harshly holding onto me tighter as tears stain my shirt. "No," he whispers softly looking up at me through the strands of my curly, red hair. "It was me." He sobs, "It was me! They picked me and I-"

I place a finger on his lips, softly shushing him. "It's not going to be you. It's not. There are thousands of slips in that bowl, you only have one. They aren't going to pick you." Kissing his forehead, I rock us back and forth on the small cot we share. Slowly his sobs subside into sniffles and he wipes his face clear of tears. "There, ssh, everyone's okay for now. Try to go back to sleep, okay? Get some rest before we have to go." He shakes his head whispering softly that he can't. "Yes you can… just try. Try." I lay him back down on the bed laying myself beside him holding him to my chest. He stares up at my face and I smile softly down at him.

Aiden gives me a tiny smile and touches my cheek, "Natasha," I hum softly, brushing his red hair out of his face and wiping the sweat and tears away. "H-How are... How are you feeling? About today?" I stare down at him for what seems like forever and turn my attention away from him to the window outside where the sweltering heat threatens to suffocate anyone who dares to step outside. "Natasha?" He asks quietly and I hear the sleepiness in his voice telling me he's about to go to sleep.

I smile at him and kiss his forehead. I won't lie to him. I never do. I will do anything to protect my little brother.

He turned 12 a month ago which was the hardest birthday we have ever had to celebrate and it hasn't been easy on either of us. "I'm fine as long as I know you're out of danger and safe with me." He smiles up at me before his eyes close and soon the only noise in the room is of his breathing.

When I'm certain he's asleep, I get out of bed noiselessly and dress quickly. Gale is most likely waiting for me so we can start hunting before the reaping.

I walk out of the room and down the stairs where I know I'm going to find my mother sitting in that same chair in the kitchen staring at nothing, doing nothing… saying nothing.

I lost my mother the same day I lost my father. Even though she's physically here, it doesn't mean anything. She can't pull herself up together to take care of her two children who need her and who also lost someone they loved.

After my father died in a mining accident, we were given some compensation for his death and the money was supposed to last us until my mother got a job. Except, she didn't. She sat down in that chair and has barely moved. On a good day she will get up and start acting like a normal person, but on her bad days, she doesn't move.

The money didn't last us long and after Aiden and I were left to starve, begging our mother to do something. We were on the brink of starvation when I was determined to not let my brother and I get killed because of her selfishness. When my father was alive, the money he earned from mining wasn't enough to feed all four of us so he resulted to illegal poaching in the woods. A trade he passed down to me. I learned a lot from accompanying my father in the woods and watching what he did. So when he died I took over being the head of the family. I made sure Aiden and I were presentable when we appeared in public, I fed my mother and my brother when I brought home food, or game as I like to call it, and I became his mother.

The first time I think I ever saw my mother again after my father's death was when I brought home my first killed rabbit. She seemed to snap out of her trance when I entered the house. Before I could do anything, she took the rabbit from me, cleaned it, gutted it and started cooking it. But it didn't last long. Halfway through dinner she claimed she had a huge headache and went back to the way she was before I came home. Aiden forgave her immediately, but I put up barrier between us to protect myself from getting hurt by her again. I try very hard to not need her. I've got Aiden and that's all I need.

I barely look in her direction as I walk to the door, grabbing my leather jacket along the way. My father's game bag is hung on a nail on the wall and I grab it, leaving without a word.

Our part of district 12, nicknamed Seam, is usually crawling with coal miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour. Men and women with hunched shoulders, swollen knuckles. Many who have long since stopped trying to scrub the coal dust out of their broken nails. The lines of their sunken faces usually walk the streets of Seam heading home from work or going to work. But today the black cinder streets are empty. Shutters on the squat gray houses are closed. The reaping isn't until two; might as well sleep in, if many can.

Our house is at the edge of Seam. I only have to pass a few gates to reach the scraggy field called the Meadow. Separating the Meadow from the woods is a high chain linked fence topped with barbed wires. It's suppose to be electrified 24 hours in order to keep predators that live in the woods- wild dogs, bears, tigers- away from the streets of district 12. But considering we only get 3 hours of electricity a day it's safe to touch; only of course every time I reach it I always stop and take a moment to listen for a hum. The hum indicating that the fence is alive.

When I'm assured I won't get fried I flatten out my belly and slide under a two foot stretch that's been loose for years. There are various weak spots, but this one is closer to home in case I have to make a run from animals or peacekeepers.

As soon as I'm concealed by trees and bushes I retrieve my many knifes and ropes from a hollow log I always stash them in at the end of my hunting day. Standing up straight I take a deep breath of clean fresh air and let the sound of animals surround me. My eyes fall shut instinctively.

My father taught me how to find food inside the woods. Roots, greens, plants. He even taught me how to kill and gut animals so that they can be prepared properly and cooked for their meat. I tried to learn as much as possible so that I could be like him, but that was before he was blown to bits in a mine explosion. There wasn't anything to bury once it happened, and even though I was 11 at the time, I still find myself waking up screaming for him to run.

Trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest of penalties and more people would risk it if they had a weapon. But most are not bold enough to venture out with just a knife, like me. I've become very skilled with my knives and ropes ever since my father first took me hunting.

I open my eyes and follow the path leading the way to where I know I will find Gale. Once I make it to my destination my assumption is correct when I see my best friend and hunting partner sitting on a large boulder, waiting for me.

I can feel the muscles in my face relaxing, my pace quickening as I climb the hills to our place; the rock ledge that overlooks the valley. The sight of him waiting there brings a smile to my face. Gale says I never smile except in the woods, but there is no other reason to smile back in district 12.

He looks over at me and waves with one hand as I see the other taking a dead beaver from one of his many snares. He is something of a whiz with snares, rigging them to bend saplings so they pull the kill out of the predator's reach, balancing logs on delicate stick triggers, weaving inescapable baskets to capture fish. I know I can never quite replicate his eye for balance, his instinct for where the pray will cross the path. It's more than experience; it's a natural gift. Like the way I can throw my knives at animal in complete darkness and still take it down.

"Hey, 'Tasha." He greets resetting the snare and handing me the beaver. "Look what I shot!" He almost sings reaching in his bag and bringing out a bread roll with an arrow stuck in it. I hold in a laugh and take it in my hands, shooting him my signature scowl. Just because I smile more frequently in the woods, doesn't mean I smile the entire time. I have a reputation to uphold. But Gale sees right through me, pulling me in for a quick hug and planting a kiss on my forehead. My scowl melts away and I carefully pull out the arrow from the small roll. I hold the bread to my nose and inhale the fragrance that makes my mouth water with saliva. Fine bread like this is for special occasions. Most of the time, all we have to eat is that nasty shit that is made from the tesserae, the grain provided to us when we enter our names in multiple times for the reaping. The more times we enter to fight to our deaths, we are "rewarded" with barely edible grain to make into food. It's a win-win.

I break it in half and hand Gale his half. I groan softly as I take my first bite, "Mm, still warm." He must have been at the bakery at the crack of dawn to trade for it. "What did it cost you?" I ask sitting down on the ground taking a bite of my half. Gale sits next to me and leans against his bag as I lean against mine.

"A chipmunk. I think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning." He replies taking a bite of his. "He even wished me luck." I roll my eyes throwing a rock in the canyon before us.

"Well don't we all feel closer today?" I say sarcastically. I fall into the Capitol accent as I mimic Effie Trinket, the manically upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the reaping. "I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" I pluck a few blackberries from the bushes around us. "And may the odds-" I toss them in the air in a high arc towards him.

He catches them in his mouth and breaks the delicate skin with his teeth. "-Be ever in your favor!" He finishes with equal verse. Gale and I have to joke about it because it's better than being scared out of our wits. Also because the Capitol accents are so ridiculous, anything sounds funny in it.

The day is glorious, with a blue sky and a soft breeze. The food's wonderful, with the warm delicious bread and the berries bursting in our mouths. Everything would be perfect if this was really a holiday. If all the day off meant romancing the mountains with Gale, hunting for tonight' dinner, but instead we have to be standing in the square at two o'clock waiting for the names to be called out. "What do you want to do?" I ask trying to get away from the thought of being chosen or Aiden being chosen.

"Let's fish at the lake. We can leave our poles and weapons in the woods. Get something nice for tonight." He says.

Tonight.

After the reaping, everyone is supposed to celebrate. And a lot of people do, out of relief that their children have been spared for another year. But at least two families will pull their shutters, lock their doors and try to figure out how they will survive the painful weeks to come.

Nearing noon I say we make out well. The predators ignore us on a day when easier, tastier prey abounds. By late morning, we have a dozen fish, two rabbits, a bag of greens and a gallon of strawberries. After trading in the square, we make out even better and Gale and I divide our spoils, leaving two fish and a couple of loaves of good bread, greens, a quart of strawberries, salt and paraffin and a bit of money for each. I give Gale a quick hug and turn to leave.

"See you in the square." I say before walking away, and his voice reaches me when he turns to leave.

"Wear something pretty." He says flatly.

At home I find my mother and brother are ready to go. Aiden in one of my father's old suits from his youth. I can see my mom did some alterations on it seeing it's a little big on him and part of his shirt is sticking out of his pants in back. I walk up the stairs after giving Aiden a tight hug for reassurance and giving my mother the game I got.

Once I'm clean from my bath, and dressed I'm pretty surprised to find out that my mother is allowing me to wear one of her fancy dresses from when she was young. As a child, my mother grew up in the wealthier part of the town. She was a Merchant in which her parents owned the apothecary. While they are in no way rich like the people in the Capitol, they do better than the people in the Seam. It's no secret about how my parents got together; a pretty, wealthy merchant giving up her easy life in the town to marry my father, the poor coal miner. She was disowned by her family and had no money, but she didn't care. She loved my father that much. She only had a few things from her youth; a couple of dresses, a hair pin and a portrait of her family. She had more, but when we were desperate we sold everything we could bare to part with to get a little money for food. That's all she has left from her childhood and now she's allowing me to wear one of her precious articles of clothing for this year's reaping.

Carefully, I slip the dress over my wet body and allow my mother to do my hair. Once my hair was done, I turn to look at myself in the full length mirror. I look nothing like myself. My red hair usually left hanging down or pulled in a messy ponytail is now in a fancy French braid my mother usually does for such occasions. I hear my door open and see Aiden slowly making his way inside. I turn around and open my arms for him to give me a hug. I know these next few hours are going to be tough for him, and I need him to know I'll be there to protect him. I won't let him get hurt. I kiss his forehead and that's when we both hear the whistle signaling us that we have to get going. Aiden freezes under my arms and I hold him tighter kneeling in front of him. I grip his shoulder and give him a tiny smile as I see tears escape. I kiss them away and reach inside my trunk holding my most valuable possessions that I don't allow anyone to see, except Aiden.

I rummage around for a while until my hand touches what I was looking for. I pull out my dad's old ring. He gave this to me months before the mine accident. He said it was to protect me, and my family. He said it was used to show that he'll always be here with me and that he'll always be there to love us. I hold it out to him and Aiden immediately recognizes what it is.

"Dad's old ring." He whispers amazed as he reaches out to touch it, but hesitates at last minute. I smile and place it in his hand closing his hand around it. "But… But it's yours." I shake my head, take it from his hand and put it on one of his finger.

"Now it's yours. Do you remember what dad said this ring would do?" Aiden nods his head and answers before I can tell him.

"This ring will help me get through anything. It will protect me and it also shows that daddy will be with me wherever I go. Also that he loves us."

I nod my head, "Exactly. This is yours now. As long as you have it, nothing bad will happen to you. Okay? I promise." He looks up at me and pulls me in a tight hug. Our hug only last for a few minutes before the next ring blows out. I pull away, stand up and tuck Aiden to my side as we walk downstairs to meet with our mother who waits at the front door. It's one o'clock and we head for the square. Attendance is mandatory unless you are on the death's door. On such occasions, the officials will come around and check to see if this is the case. If not you'll be imprisoned.

People file in silently and sign in. The reaping is a good opportunity for the Capitol to keep tabs on the population as well. Twelve through eighteen year olds are herded into roped areas marked off by ages, the oldest in the front, the youngest- like Aiden- in the back. I find myself standing in a clump of sixteen year olds from the Seam. We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the Justice Building. The stage holds 3 chairs, and two large glass balls, one for boys, and one for girls. I stare at the paper slips in the girl's ball. 26 of them have Natasha Romanoff written on them in careful handwriting.

The clock strikes two and Effie Trinket walks up to the podium with the same stupid smile on her face and fake amusement from years past. Everyone in the districts and maybe even the Capitol knows she is doing it just to be bumped up to a 'better district' as they put it. The new recruits always end up with district 12. Effie has been our escort for as many years as I can remember and she's desperate to get to a new district.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome! Happy Hunger Games and May the odds be ever in your favor. Now before we begin we have a very special film that is brought to you all the way from the Capitol." She gestures to the large screen on our right that suddenly turns on. I try to keep the scowl from my face when the voice of President Snow fills the square.

I don't pay attention because it's the same BS story they tell every year. Before we were Panem, we were once a country called North America. There was never peace amongst the people, for they judged anyone who was significantly different based on gender, race and ethnicity. We were still segregated as we are today with the 13 districts and the one Capitol. When the districts had enough, they rebelled. There was a war in the dark ages and the rebels lost. As a result, the Hunger Games were created as a way to instill fear and prevent another war from happening again. This has been the way of life for 73 years.

I meet Gale's eyes across the way in the boy's section and he rolls his eyes in annoyance, feigning a yawn behind his hand. I stifle back a laugh.

As far as reapings go, this one at least has a slight entertainment factor. But suddenly I am thinking of Gale and his forty two names in that big glass ball and how the odds are not in his favor. Not compared to the lot of boys and maybe he's thinking the same about me because his face darkens and he turns away. I want to tell him, 'But there are thousands of slips in there' only I can't.

I hear the mayor start naming off the rules of the game but they are very simple. In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide one girl and one boy called tributes to participate. The twenty four will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could anything from burning desert to a frozen wasteland. Over a period of several weeks the competitors must fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins. Taking kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch… this is the Capitol's way of reminding us how completely we are at their mercy. Reminding us our small chances of ever surviving another rebellion. Whatever fancy words they use the real message is clear. "Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger we will destroy every last one of you, just as we did in District Thirteen."

Soon it's time for drawing.

Effie begins as she always does, "Ladies first!" and crosses to the glass ball with the girl's names. She reaches in and digs her hand deep into the ball and pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd draws in a collective breath and you can hear pin drop. I'm feeling nauseous. Effie crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper and reads out the name in a clear voice.

"Natasha Romanoff."