"Finn?...Finn?" I don't answer because I'm too busy thinking about that girl.

"Finnick!"

"What?" I snap as I turn around to face my sister. She looks hurt that I've yelled at her and I immediately feel guilty. I go to sit beside her on the sofa of our living room. The French doors are wide open and the heat of the midday sun is making me irritable. "I'm sorry Lyra. It's just… this time of year is always difficult for me."

She nods knowingly and leans in to give me a hug. I realise this is probably more for her benefit than mine. At thirteen years old, her name won't be in the bowl that many times, but it still terrifies her. "It's ok, you won't get picked."

"How do you know?" Her noses and eyes are slightly red and I can tell she's been crying.

"You just won't." I give her the biggest smile I can. "Besides, I think the world can only handle one Odair a a time, or else it will just be blown into a full frenzy."

She starts laughing and I know I've said the right thing. "You are so big headed." She says giving me a shove. I laugh at that and shove her right back. It's just us living in this house, my father lives back in our old fishing village. He says it's because he wants to continue with his trade, but I know that it's really because he is ashamed f me. Of what I have become. He barely can look me in the eye now. My mother died when giving birth to Lyra. She never says so, but I think she feels like it's her fault. Our father certainly believes that. That's why she lives with me and not him. But now I am off to the Capitol, she has to stay with him. I look at her and smile. People say we look similar but her eyes are more blue than mine, and her hair is darker. She notices staring and sticks her tongue out at me and we both laugh. Although we have been through so much, we are still just brother and sister.

The square is milling with people. I can see it all from the platform infront of the Justice Building. Of course I was called to mentor again, they just can't seem to get enough of me. It's like an obsession the Capitol have with me, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. The other mentor, Talia, sits beside me. She is nice, and has two young children. I like her, but she isn't Mags. Mags is the person who guided me through everything, if not for her, I'd probably be dead. I have so much respect for her, but she is also like my mother figure. She can't be here because she's very old and frail. I wish she was here, she makes everything easier.

I see Lyra in the crowd, and she gives me the smallest of smiles. I smile to reassure her but my eyes start scanning over the rest of the crowd, and I realise that I'm looking for the girl on the beach. My vision is blocked when our escort, Mirima, struts onto the platform, wearing a skin tight body suit in an alarming shade of pink.

She starts by welcoming everyone and reading the same story she does every year. To stop myself from snapping at how repulsive it all is, I focus my attention on her face. It has so much surgery, her skins looks like rubber and is pulled tight over her features. She looks like a lizard. The worst part is, Mirima has never made her attraction to me a secret. She repels me, but I must play along.

"Now for the good bit!" Mirima's voice shocks me back to reality. "District Four's female tribute is..."

Please don't be Lyra. Anyone but Lyra...

"Annie Cresta! Where are you honey?"

I find Lyra in the crowd again. She doesn't smile, but just nods at me. I nod back, knowing she's safe for another year. I then look for movement in the crowd, as the tribute makes her way up to stage. The funny thing is, the square is quiet. usually there are screams of despair or shouts of how unjust it is. But no one makes any noise. Poor girl. No one cares. I suppose that's better in some ways, it's less painful.

The girl is coming up to the stage now. I cannot see her face because it is covered by a sheet of hair. As she passes me on the stage her eyes flicker on me for a second. Then the penny drops. She was the girl from the beach.

My mouth drops open as she passes me and I can feel my heart sink to my stomach.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your female tribute...Annie Cresta!" Mirima shrieks.

The crowd is quiet and the girl stands there. She isn't crying, or being hysterical. She holds her head high and the wind whips her hair around her face. Annie. Her name is Annie.