I shiver as the cold wind softly whistles in my ears. The gentle leaves being pried away from the tree, like as if they were being grabbed away from their family for a life of something else. Something that two children were going to experience today. I brush my black wavy hair with my fingers and sit on the swing. Our backyard had a cold feeling to it, like a morgue. The day was grey with wisps of dark clouds hanging around in the sky. I could hear feeble voices of children crying, praying and some youngsters playing with whatever kick-knacks they had. I look up at the grey sky and feel the soft dribbles of rain splash on my face. It made me feel fresher than I was before. I close my eyes and start to swing on the rubber tire. It might get wet but it's okay, this might be the last time I wear these clothes. My mum's maroon hunting half-jacket, my favourite black sleeveless shirt, my handmade red skirt that was laced with black fine threads and my leather boots. I try to remember the song mum used to sing to me. Something she always told me to remember, for the better for myself.

"Love me enchanted,
Don't leave me
For I am just a blossom on a tree
A sweet little flower, so delicate and pretty
Yet hold the sight to see all things witty
If you take me out, don't leave me alone
For I have something forbidden to hold
Just make me say I love you more
So I don't hold this scar on my cheek no more…"

I had never understood the song, but the way mum used to sing it was so beautiful. It was meant as a lullaby but all it made me want to do was stay awake and think of myself as a delicate little flower on the tree, so pretty to see. A little boy on the street looks at me, his honey eyes scared and hollow. It was his first year. I smiled and waved to the little chap. He gave a small grin and then ran to wherever he needed to go. I heard a slight scuffling of leaves behind me and I knew it was time. I got up from the tire swing. I felt the cold drops of water drop gently on my forehead, opening up my mind.

"You ready?" the rough voice asked.

"More ready than I thought I would be." I replied and head to my Zackary, my uncle. He was young, had black hair spiked up, grey eyes, a small goatee and the perfect set of teeth. He was 21 years old. I looked at him and saw that he was wearing a leather black jacket, a dark brown t-shirt, brown pants and black hunting boots which made him look smart and handsome. I smiled at him, but didn't receive the same. As I stepped forward I heard children crying, a lot louder than before. I started to tense and stood still, hands crushed into fists.

"Mom, please!"

"Honey we have to."

"I don't want to die."

"Just shut up!"

"Mom!" And after that a slick crack was heard. No more voices followed after that except for the gentle crackling of leaves. Even Zack looked behind me, eyes worried. We heard loud sobs and then the Peacekeepers hard boot marches. There were screams as they dragged the lady away from her unconscious or dead child. I didn't look back to see which was which. Zack caught my gaze and noticed my fear, his hard grey eyes softened. He shifted in closer and gave me a tight hug.

"You'll be alright." He softly whispered into my ear. I could smell aftershave and his cologne, something I just could never forget. His arms were wrapped tight around me and I didn't want to let go, so he made the decision and pulled back. He then walked back into the house, his hands in his pockets. I followed after a couple of minutes, the Reaping could wait.

Zack had held my hand the whole time as we had made our way to the Reaping. I could feel his heart beat through his palms and his sweat coat onto my hand. He was tensed as hell, but so was everyone else. As we reached the destination to be separated for boys and girls I stopped. I didn't want to let go of my only living family member. He looked into my eyes and we held our gaze. He then placed his palms gently on my shoulders.

"Now listen to me Folly, whatever you do, so not volunteer! Understand?" he told me straight. We had all heard of the star-crossed lovers, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. Katniss had volunteered for her little sister Prim for the Hunger Games. They had wanted to put an end to this disastrous competition but had failed miserably and lost a family member each. Prim, for Katniss and Peeta's dad. Both had grieved for a long time, but they now held it together sitting on stage awaiting their tributes to climb aboard the train to hell. I nodded my head, no matter what. We hugged tight once more and then were pulled away by the Peacekeepers. Zack struggled for a while but then left it; there was nothing he could do to stop them. And even if he tried, he would lose me even more easily. I was the last female to step inside and very soon a Capitol lady stepped up to the stage and grabbed the microphone. She had straight golden hair that had jewels gemmed on almost every strand, bright amber eyes with mascara that looked like butterflies just stuck to her eyes, pink lipstick with more gems and a horrific blue dress with matching shoes. I grimaced at the lady, luckily she could not see.

"Hello! Hello! Welcome to the 76th Hunger Games!" she explained, manicured and polished nails sparkling in the sun as she spread her arms out wide.

"My name is Hegnus Flinn, your new organizer for this year's Hunger Games! Now let's start shall we? Ladies first!" she squeaked at the end and walked over to the paper bowl. Everyone held their breaths. From the corner of my eye I noticed Zack standing still and tensed.

"Melissa Grave!" I shivered, it wasn't me. A feeling about somewhat happiness and all other kinds of emotions spread through me, I even managed to break a smile. A girl, about 13 or 14 years old, with braided strawberry blond hair and olive green eyes walked carefully to the stage. She looked terrified to the crowds that stood ahead, her freckles seeming darker than before. Hegnus held her tight by the arm.

"And now onto the boys." She smiled and pushed her hand through the bowl. She picked out a neat piece of folded paper and opened it. As she called out the name suddenly time stopped. The heat of the Reaping increased and everyone stood still but confused.

"Zackary Galiphay?" she asked once more. How? Zack was 21; he couldn't apply to the Games. Everyone turned to look at him, even me. His grey eyes suddenly seemed to fragile, his lips quivered and small trickles of sweat dribbled out of his hair. Everyone turned back to Hegnus and one brave voice shouted.

"But he's 21!" Everyone turned to look at the bravado. It was Kaylow Yerschel, my good friend. We all slowly nodded our heads.

"But he's one the list." She replied, seeming quite shocked.

"But he's 21." I shouted out. As the whole population turned to me I suddenly felt so small and my inside turned to jelly. But the acceptance of what I had said gave me more confidence. Hegnus stopped herself and looked around frightened. Suddenly President Snow appeared from behind closed doors that were on stage. He stepped out, walking with the help of a cane and stood in front of the microphone. I suddenly felt his icy eyes look straight at me, people even moved out of the way to let him get a better look. I was paralyzed and stood still, my eyes turning blur. He raised an eyebrow at me and then set it back down.

"It's because he's lying."

Hey guys hope you enjoyed this! Please R&R and tell me any suggestions! :D Also you can read my Alex Rider FF if you want. Take care!