My eyes opened slowly as the light shown through the window into my eyes. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but the day was looming over me. It kept on echoing in the back of my mind. Today wasn't just another day as a I wished it was. Today was the day of the reaping of the 70th Hunger Games. Saying that I was scared was incorrect, I was petrified like every year. This was my second to last year to be in the reaping, but that held no comfort to me. My name was in the bowl six time this year and that didn't make me feel any better. My chances just got higher as every single year passed.

My sister, Meredith, groaned from across the room, interrupting my ominous thoughts. I tried to stay as still as possible so that she would not notice that I was awake. She usually would leave me here on a day like this. "Get up, Annie." She moans at me. "I know you're awake over there."

"Get up yourself." I utter.

I hear the floorboards creek under Meredith's weight. She is 21 years old and has surpassed all her reapings. Soon she is to be married to another boy from our district named Beck. My whole life she has taken care of me and I fear that when she gets married I will loose her. Beck is a kind enough man, but he is still just a boy in my eyes and not ready for the marriage. My sister was always one to rush things in her life. I know that she is not ready for marriage either, but no one can stop a stubborn mind.

"Annie, you have to get up." I feel the side of my bed sink.

"Please don't make me." I whine to her.

"Mom and Dad will get mad if you don't."

My mother is much more harsh than my father. She does not get as mad at me as she does my sister because she knows that I will have a breakdown if she does. She is kind like my father. My father... He is the most wonderful man in the whole world. He will do anything to help people. As much as I love them, today I resent them for even giving birth to me.

"Let them for all I care." My eyes water and I begin crying. I can't do this. Fear overwhelms me and I nearly hurl right there in the bed. I am not ready for the reaping. I am never ready for the reaping. It is just like that and I begin to have a panic attack. My hands begin shaking and my heart pounds against my chest. The uncontrollable breaths begin next. Soon enough my whole body is shaking. I am sobbing moments later as I gasp for air.

"Annie..." She rubs my back. "Annie, it's okay..."

"It... is... not..." I squeak in between gasps.

"You're not going to get reaped. I promise. And if you did, I would have volunteered for you if I could."

What she says is not comforting at all. If she could even volunteer for me I would not let her. I have never been a person worthy of anything so what is wrong with me dying. No one would feel the loss. My family would no longer be stuck with the burden that is me. Everything would be better for them.

Meredith stops speaking because she knows that what she says is not going to make anything better. She just sits there as I rock back and forth trying to calm myself. My brain races from one thought to another. What if I get reaped? What will the arena be like? How will I kill someone? Could I ever win the games? In any circumstances? There isn't even a Career that could save me this year. None of them are prepared to enter the Games yet.

Eventually my racing mind slows down and the thoughts stop. My mind just goes blank and the tears come to a hault. I begin to breath more steadily. I lift my face from the pillow and it sticks a bit from my tears. I rub my eyes and look into my sister's muddy brown eyes. She looks worried, but I disregard it because she is always worried about me, just like everyone else I have ever met.

I have to admit that I am a fragile person. Doubt fills over half of my thoughts and I cannot control them often times. When I was young I was teased for being too scared of things, such as playing on the monkey bars during recess. During middle school, I was bullied for being quiet and hardly speaking even when I was asked questions by the teacher. I still don't have many friends. The closest things that I have to friends are acquaintances. My sister and my parents are my only true friends.

"Are you okay?" Meredith wonders to me. I nod even though it is a complete lie. "Let's get ready. The reaping is in an hour."

I get up off of the bed, go take a shower, and wash my hair before returning to the room. Meredith is already dressed in her deep purple dress. I pull on my light blue one that exposes my shoulder. I rub them uncomfortably, yet I don't complain about it because I know how much my mother paid for this dress and how long we saved up for it.

The next 30 minutes is a blur. My family and I walk up to the Justice Building. They hug me before I go. My arms are slack around their backs as they do this. I turn away and make my way toward the check in line. I check into the reaping where they prick my finger and identify who I am. I go and stand with the rest of girls who are my age. I peer back at my father and mother who wave at me. I try to wave back and my hand does not move from my side. Meredith smiles at me and I only frown back. No one can change my mood now. Sorrow fills my heart and I feel a tear drip down my cheek. I wipe it away quickly before anyone can see especially my parents.

Evangeline Lennox walks up onto the stage with an escort of peacekeepers. She wears, as usual, a flamboyant bright blue outfit covered in feathers and sapphires. I almost laugh at her getup, and it makes me feel a bit better about myself. I'm only in that bowl six times out of about 500, I attempt to tell myself. How could I be chosen?

"Welcome, District Four, to the 70th Hunger Games Reaping!" She pauses as if she is waiting for us to cheer, but we are all silent. "Now for a video from the Capitol to remind us all of why there are the Games." Her accent is ridiculous as always. The video from every other year is queued. Clips of the revolution show up on the screen above the possible tributes. The voice on the video explains why the Games were created (as punishment for the district's uprising). Next they transfer to clips of the past Games filled with blood that just makes me want to get sick. I look down at my shoes. My stomach growls. I should have eaten something before I left, except that would have just increased the possibility of me getting sick. The video ends and I look up.

"Well, now that was exciting!" Evangeline smiles out at us. "Now for the female tribute of the 70th Hunger Games!" She waddles over to a bowl in her extremly high heels. Her fingers enter the bowl and yank out a sheet of paper. It seems like forever for her to get back to the microphone. She opens the paper slowly and smiles at us one last time before saying the name."Annie Cresta!"

I nearly screech as she says my name. How could this happen? How could it be me out of all those names? I am surprised I haven't begun sobbing or have fainted girls around me stare and whisper. I hear other sighing with relief that it is me and not them. My feet begin moving toward the stage without me telling them to. I am sure that I look as horrified as I feel. Evangeline takes my hand as I walk up the stairs. I catch the deepest green eyes of a man with copper hair and a beautiful chiseled face. They are sorrowful to see another get picked as he did once. I recognize this as Finnick Odair who won the 65th Hunger Games.

All I know about him is that all of the girls in our district are obsessed with him, but not me. I always found him to be cocky and stuck up. I suppose if you win the Games you are allowed to be because after all you escaped death. I will admit to myself that he is beautiful, but I would never be able to even relate to a person like him.

I take my place beside Evangeline and she comes back up to the microphone. "For our male tribute!" She walks over to the boy's bowl and pulls out a name. The process seems to go much faster than it did with the choosing of the female tributes. Perhaps it was the dread that consumed my heart. Now that dread has grown even stronger than it was before.

"Troy Watson!" She yells into the microphone and it screeches. I watch Troy make his way through the crowd to the stage. I have never met Troy and all I know about him is that he is quiet like me. Maybe we could get along before the Games. Troy is a tall gangly boy with bright blond hair and contrasting brown eyes. There is a look of dread and anger on his face as he walks up the stairs and joins me on the stage.

Evangeline takes my wrist and lifts it up. "Annie Cresta!" She yells out then lets mine down. She picks up Troy's wrist next and lifts it above her head. "Troy Watson!" Next she lifts both of our wrists into the air. "Your 70th Hunger Games District Four tributes!" The people in the crowd clap quietly and then the ceremony is over just a quickly as it started.