I have decided that 24 tributes would be too many to be able to properly respect all of the personalities you have chosen for them. I have a nice mixture of seven tributes, so the Games begin... now! Each part of the story will be told from the point of view of one of the tributes. I have decided to tell the story of the reaping from the point of view of Maribella Reign, District 2.

Thank you all for entering, and may the odds be ever in your favour.

I stand in the 13-year-old section, fidgeting nervously. My second reaping. I thought they might get easier to stand, as the years went by, but evidently not. If anything, I am even more terrified than I was as at the age of 12.

I flash Lucinda a quick, reassuring smile. My palms are sweaty, my throat is dry. One question dominates my thoughts. What if it's me? But I must stay strong for her.

Delila Harlem wobbles up to the stage, in ridiculously high heels. Her face is powdered white, and her hair is dyed a pale shade of green. To be honest, she looks very slightly demented. I giggle to myself, a little louder than I intended, turning a few questioning heads. I shrug.

She fishes in the reaping bowl, full of slips of paper. Her talons eventually snare one, and she unrolls it slowly. I'm breathing heavily, now. Lucinda is hyperventilating.

"Lucinda Cilt!" screeches Delila.

No, it can't be her. One slip in thousands. It can't be her. It can't be. I won't let it be. But this is District 2! We will have volunteers. I sigh, relieved. I will not loose my best friend.

So why, then, is Lucinda still standing on the stage? Why, then, is Delila's request for volunteers met only with a deafening silence?

"I volunteer!" I scream, desperately. I can't stand to see her like that, alone, helpless. The crowd parts to let me through, and, too soon, I am standing on the stage, ready to be sent to my death.

What have I done?

Now, the train journey from Johnny Huntsman's point of view.

I sit on the train, Anna-May's arm around my shoulders. I sob quietly, but she pretends not to notice. I appreciate that.

"Why did you volunteer?" I whisper, "Only one can win."

She hesitates before answering, watching the coloured blurs that are the districts rush by. "If we have to go through this... we go through this together." she says, tears in her eyes. And tears well up in mine, because I love my sister. And I would rather die than lose her.

The scary thing is, I may have to make that choice.

We watch the reapings on the large television provided for this purpose. A few stick in my mind.

A young, pretty, district two girl, who volunteers for her friend. A strong, brooding district 4 boy, who calmly volunteers. A beautiful district 4 girl, who bravely holds her head high as her name is pulled out of the reaping bowl. I watch Anna-May leap up to volunteer, unable to save me, but able to protect me. A young, blonde girl from district 10 is reaped, and walks up to the stage, tears running down her cheeks. Finally, a cheerful-looking boy looses his smile as he is reaped for the district 12 spot.

All of these people must die, if I am to win.

Including my sister.