Hi guys! So this is something I've been working on for a while, in between my Agents of SHIELD fanfic. This is set as if Katniss Everdeen ate those Nightlock berries in the 74th Games, assuming Peeta won and there was no rebellion, therefore the Games continued. This is the year of the 90th Games, and things have gotten worse in the Districts.
So, HUGE shoutout to ForEverdeen88 for proofing and helping me create the characters and the plotline! I have big things in store for this story! c: R&R is extremely appreciated!

I waved to my father and my brother Brooks as they left in their sooty work clothes. They wouldn't be home for the Reaping; their job at the factory would never allow it. I closed the door and slowly turned back into our small tenement house. The downstairs tenants were yelling again, as usual, and that day I suspected it would be much worse, because it was the Reaping Day. Muffled words bounced around in my skull. I knew eavesdropping was extremely rude, but sometimes I couldn't help it.

"Stop crying Josh!" his mother screeched at him. "Go feed your sister!"

I could almost see Josh's face, red and puffy from tears, trying to pull himself together in the wake of his mother's rage. I silently moved forward through the small doorway leading to Roxy's bedroom. Roxy is my little sister, who was only thirteen. She was quite small for her age, with a short frame and slender figure that almost made her look unhealthy. She had straight brunette hair matched with intelligent hazel eyes. She shares a bed with Colt, my other sibling who was only three. He, too, had brunette hair and hazel eyes, but his hair was curly and all over the place. All together I had three siblings, Brooks being the eldest at nineteen, myself seventeen, followed by Roxy and Colt. I sat on the edge of her bed, and hated to have to wake her up. The Districts never used to have to have school on reaping days, but ever since the 74th Games, many of the rules had been changed regarding the school hours. Their argument was that the children were to learn about the origin of the Games, and the reasoning behind the strictness of the Capitol now, which was, as everyone knew, Katniss Everdeen. "C'mon, Rox." I said, after a while. "It's time for school."

It took a while for her to wake up, but with a persistent voice and endless amounts of poking, Roxy slipped out of her bed and headed toward the dresser. I walked over to her and kissed the top her head. "Come on, get moving… and don't wake up Colt, please." I said, as I gently pushed her into the bathroom.

Roxy giggled in a small voice, and closed the door behind her. I stood at the dresser for a long time, staring at my reflection. The previous Reaping Ceremonies were rewinding in my head, and my eyes grew hard at the thought of the Capitol's cruelty. The Games came next, and the deaths, that I was forced to watch. The cannon that could very well be mine, if the odds were not in my favor that day. A shudder passed through me, as I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sharp rattle of the brass doorknob. The door swung open and Roxy came out of the small bathroom, twirling in a sweet blue sundress.

Roxy. I had been there when Roxy put her name in the big bowl of District Three's girls. It was in five times, and five times too many. Seeing as I was seventeen, my name was in ten times. My family was forced to take tesserae from the government, since we couldn't support ourselves without it.

"You look so pretty." I told her, smiling. "I bet Lucan will be drooling over you!"

Roxy laughed. "Lucan is cute, but he's not my type."

"You have a type?" I asked, startled. "Well…" I began, bringing Roxy's brunette hair to rest on her shoulders. "Don't be picky." I tapped her nose with my index finger.

Roxy chuckled quietly, as she moved behind me. "Can I do your hair for the reaping?" she asked in a quiet voice, riddled with childish innocence.

"Yeah." I replied slowly, "Of course." I let her gather my hair in her delicate hands. For a while all she did was stroke it, to untangle the knots with her fingers. Sooner or later, she separated my hair into three parts and began to plait it into a loose braid. Parts of my layered hair fell out of the braid in an elegant mess. I stood up from my sitting position, and looked into the mirror. "Thank you, Roxy," I smiled, hugging her head to my chest. "I love it."

I led her down to the kitchen, where breakfast for her was already set up at the table. "Now, eat up. The bell will ring soon."

Roxy nodded, and began to eat her buttered toast. "Hey mom?" I asked in a subdued voice, approaching her. "Are you… nervous, about today?"

My mother averted her gaze. "Let's…" she faltered, "Let's, um, talk when Roxy's gone." And she turned to the large pile of dishes on the bench. As soon as Roxy had finished her breakfast and was on the way to school, with all the other children her age in our tenement building, I turned to my mother.

She took a huge breath. "Yes. I am nervous. For both you and Roxy." She stroked my cheek gently with her hand. "It hurts, having someone you love in the running to be killed, and there's nothing you can do about it." Immediately, I knew what she was saying. Don't go like Jess did. Jess. The name always brought a stab of pain to my gut. My brother Jess was reaped once, a few years before. We tried to stay as strong as we could for his sake. It was especially difficult for my mother, for Jess was her eldest, and I knew that every day brought heartache for her, waking up and knowing that she was without one of her children.

The gentleness of her touch, and the pain, the complete pain in her voice caused my eyes to welt up with hot tears. I used to be able to control the tears, but now they came in floods, and unexpectedly. I embraced my mother, soon pulling away again and replying, "You've done everything right." I wiped the tears from my flushed face. "If I get chosen, I promise I'll do everything in my power to get out."

"Please don't say that." My mother whispered. "Please don't even think you'll get picked. I can't bear the thought of losing someone else." A cry escaped her throat and I couldn't help but hug her all over again, this time with all my strength.

"I'm sorry, mom…" I whispered, hoping that she would be able to compose herself at the Reaping, "Please stop crying…" I hated to see my mother in such a state. Finally, she composed herself and placed her hands on my face again.

"Well, my dear." She tried to smile for me, her voice still distorted with tears, "You've got classes to attend. Go on and get ready."

I took a slice of toast from the center of the table, taking it into my room with me as I got dressed for the day. I left my hair in the soft braid but I changed my original outfit of an old dress of my mother's to a simple combination of slim black jeans and a large sweater that once belonged to Jess. The bell for everyone in year nine and over trilled, which signaled my departure. "I'll see you when I get home. Bye!" I called, as I closed the front door.

I had been to this same lecture for the good part of my life, so when the guest speaker from the Capitol began to talk, I kept her gaze focused on them, but never listened to a word of what they were saying. This year, it was a tall and slender man with an extremely pale face, wavy, dandelion colored hair, and thick, poorly penciled black eyebrows taking up the better half of his forehead. His original eyebrows had been bleached to match his skin, his other eyebrows giving him the impression of being extremely shocked by something or other. He was oddly tall, and wore a tunic that matched his hair, finishing the outfit off with disgustingly tight leather pants.

For about an hour and a half, I watched his mouth move. My eyes drifted up to the rusty old clock hanging on the bare grey walls above the filthy blackboard and realized with dread and excitement that it was almost time to go home. I allowed myself to tune back in and heard the final, exact same snippets of words that I heard every year. "… And theorists in the Capitol believe that, had Miss Everdeen not eaten the berries, there would have been a rebellion in the Districts, threatening the safety of the Games and Capitol residents alike."

My professor smiled, even though it looked very forced, and called out, "Please give a warm round of applause for our Capitol guest speaker Atticus Applebaum." She seemed to have trouble choking out the ridiculous name. "Thank you Atticus." She said. She always called upon one of her students to show the guest speaker out the door, and I was all prepared to leave when I heard, "Ms. Landon, would you please show Mr. Applebaum out to his car?"

I'd never been chosen before, and frankly never expected to be; I had always been on good terms with my professor, and she only ever asked her least favorite students to show the speaker out the door. I stood up from my desk near the back and made the slow walk of shame up to the front. I gave Atticus the most genuine smile I could muster, and then said, "This way please, Mr. Applebaum." I led him out the side door and the waiting black vehicle. Before he could open the door and place himself in the car, he turned to me with a terrifying smile. "Your district's been assigned a new escort this year. Her name's Tempest, and she's a personal friend of mine," he said chirpily, with that silly, manufactured accent. "And if I see that you little brats give her trouble, I'll be sure that District Three has no sponsors this year." The really awful thing was, that with all his terrible words, his tone and cheeriness never changed. He opened the door and smiled. "Toodles!" The car sped away before I could close my mouth, which had dropped open in shock. I'd never really liked the Capitol, but because of Atticus Applebaum, I hated it.