Summary; it's the two-hundredth Quarter Quell, and the new president has it out for a well known family who, all those years ago, had prevented the "Hunger Games". But, this time, a new dawn is approaching. And nothing is safe.

DISCLAIMER; I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES, ALL RIGHTS TO SUZANNE COLLINS:)

I've always loved to hunt. Even though my dad's a baker down in the square, I still bring home game every once in a while for my family. We're kind of poor, you see. Just because you're well known doesn't mean you get showered with money every day.

I just so happen to be sitting in the meadow with my brother, my best friend, where my mom and her best friend used to hunt. Get the hint? Used to.

My mom hates him now. We are strictly forbidden to go see him. I've only met him once, but that's just because my mom is good at putting on a show and being nice to everybody. It's not a talent everyone has. He's tried multiple times to call her, but all he gets when she hears him is a loud banging sound, which is the phone being slammed back onto the receiver.

I heard a rustling in the leaves by the lake, so I went to check it out, of course letting my brother know where I was going first.

"I'm going to check something out. I'll be right back."

"Okay, but be careful." he replied. We were twins, so we have to look out for each other, right?

I walked, with the bow my mom had given me for Christmas one year. It was black, and there was some sort of small drawing on the handle of a bird. The pin that she'd used to hold some of the wrapping part together looked just like the drawing.

There was still some rustling, and I was starting to get a little worried. I quietly pull an arrow from my quiver my mom had also given me, and loaded my bow. I put three fingers on the string, ready to pull back. I'm a right-handed bow shooter. Both my parents are right-handed, I'm ambidextrous and my brother is left handed. My brother is just a few minutes, five at the most, two at the least, older than me, so I get the "leftie" part from him and the "rightie" part from my parents. I don't know where he gets being left handed from.

There was still some rustling going on in the trees that it started to sound more like a person walking than an animal wandering about. I heard the rustling stop, and then turned around, arrow pointing at whatever it was that had spooked me. . . .

"Dad?!" I say, clearly confused. "What are you doing here? You of all people–"

"Hush!" he says quickly. "Come on before the trucks get here. Where's your brother?"

"Over by the fence. Jeez, dad, I almost shot you!" I didn't catch what he said about the trucks until he looked relieved. "What trucks?"

"Um, some people in for a delivery at the Hob. No big deal." he said, fake laughing.

"Dad. . ." I choke out suspiciously. "This isn't funny."

"Jeez! I know it's not funny, alright?!" he exclaimed quietly. Yes, I know that makes no sense.

"Hey, hey! Are you alright?" he said, kneeling down to my brother, grabbing his shoulders. "Hey!"

"Oh, yeah, I'm alright." the boy I share a face with reassured my dad. "I'm fine."

He looked up at the sky. There were at least four or five helicopters over the meadow, and I hoped we weren't getting arrested. I'd forgotten to mention to both my brother and my dad that this meadow was an illegal hunting place- well, actually, hunting was illegal in general.

"We gotta go now!"

"Alright, alright!"

We started running to the house, vaguely wondering if we were gonna get caught running in front of everyone. . . .

We stopped in front of my house before I remembered that momma wasn't home- she'd gone to the Square!

"Momma's not here!" I yelled suddenly, causing both boys, well, one man and one boy, to look at me funny.

"She went to the Square this morning!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, dangit, I told her not to go!" said Dad, his face heating, red with anger.

I turned and sped off, in the direction of the Square.

"Andrina! Get back here, dangit! Not you too!"

I kept running towards the Square. I didn't stop till I got there. I was a little relieved to see that Dad and my brother had stopped running, and were leaning on their knees, panting to catch their breath.

"Even faster than her mother." was the last thing I heard from Dad before entering the Square.