AN: I'm sosososososo sorry for the late upload! I was halfway through this chapter when I had family matter to attend to, so I didn't get to finish it. But I managed to finish it today, so here it is! I will have the next chapter uploaded on schedule. I do realize there were 3 missing words in the last chapter, and I am trying to fix it. Thank you for all of the reviews and reads! I love you guys!

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the awesomeness of The Hunger Games, the lovely Suzanne Collins owns every bit of it.

You know those feelings you get, when you fall from a height and the moment of impact seems to leave you with no trace of air. You lie there shocked, wide-eyed and gasping for breath, but your lungs won't respond.

This is how I felt at this exact moment. I wanted to sprint to Prim, whisk her away from all this, but I seemed to lose all motor functions. Finally, I croak out, "Prim." This seems to bring me back to reality, the sound of my voice. I move my arm. "Prim," I say louder this time. I start walking toward her, and all the sixteen-year-olds make way the second I start moving. I start running toward her, barely cutting her off before she starts climbing the stairs to the stage.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

There's a collective breath.

Effie looks taken aback but still gives a smile. "Well, it seems we have a volunteer! But I think there's the matter of first introducing the tribute, and then asking for volunteers, and then…um…-"

"What does it matter," a voice says. I look up to see the mayor, watching me with sad eyes. Does he recognize me? Does he remember the little girl he presented the medal to after her father was blown to bits, recognize the girl who brings him strawberries? He must, because it takes him a second time to say what he was going to say. "What does it matter? She's already volunteered. Let her."

Prim is clinging to my arm, screaming. "Bay, you can't do this! No! No!"

It's taking me all I am to keep from crying. "Prim let go," I say in a fighting voice

"Let go!"

She's being lifted, and I turn around to see who it is. Gale.

"Up you go, Bay," he says in a strangled voice.

I swallow hard, compose myself, and walk up the steps. Effie's struggling to keep everything running smooth, and is smiling a smile so fake at this point it looks like she's grimacing. "What's your name dearie?"

I look at the faces in the crowd. I can't tell what they're thinking. Some look sad, some look terrified. Even the gamblers that go around placing bets on who's getting reaped are silent. It's strange, almost like they feel sympathetic for me.

"Bay Trayvark."

"I bet my buttons that was your sister! Wouldn't want her to take the spotlight, would you?"

I feel sick. That wasn't even close to why I volunteered. But it doesn't matter. She's already saying something else, and I'm barely listening.

"Let's have a round of applause for our first District 12 tribute!"

Silence. Nobody applauds, nobody cheers. It's the best act of defiance they can do. It says we do not condone, this is wrong. And we do not agree with it. Instead, one by one, each of them raises their three middle fingers. It's a sign rarely used in 12, it means thanks, admiration, goodbye to someone you love. This makes me almost cry, but instead I just allow a small, strangled sound to be released, and then compose myself again.

Effie clears her throat, "Well, now for the boys."

She clicks over to the opposite bowl, and I don't even have enough time to hope it's not Gale, when the name's already being announced.

"Peeta Mellark."

My stomach drops. My blood turns cold. Oh no, not him. Please, not him! Do not cry, do NOT cry! I look into the crowd. Peeta's slowly walking to the stage, tears in his eyes. He has two older brothers, I know that. I never learned their names, but I've seen them before in the bakery. One's probably too old to volunteer, the other one not willing. Family bonds only go so far in the Games. Do something, I think. Volunteer, somebody! Don't do this!

He's made his way up to the stage and Effie asks for volunteers. I grimace at how quiet it is when she asks this. No, please.

"Well, it seems we have our District 12 tributes! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

She steps back to let us shake hands. I look at him. His blond hair is slicked back, shirt tucked into his khaki pants. He would look handsome if it weren't for the fact that he was now my enemy. Now all I see when I look at him is hopelessness. I feel a lump in my throat, and it's painful keeping it back. I Look at my hand to ensure I won't cry, but when we're about to release hands, he gives a squeeze. I jerk my head up. Was it from nerves, or did he do that to reassure me?

I can't think straight, and the Peacekeepers are whisking me off to the Justice Building.

I run my hand over the soft purple velvet. I watch it absentmindedly, making long trails of a darker purple, then running it back the other direction, returning the color back to its original shade. It's strange, how my life is like this piece of velvet. It was normal, fine and untouched. Then came another force, and in one moment, it was completely changed, made darker.

I'm distracted, so much so the Peacekeeper has to tell me a visitor walked in.

I jerk my head up. It's the baker, Peeta's father.

He sits down quietly. We sit there in silence. His isn't a man of many words, I'll tell you that. It makes me wonder how he ended up with his wife. She's a witch, sometimes her kids would come to school with bruises, no doubt from her doing. He clears his throat.

"I, um, brought you this."

He pulls out a small box and hands it to me. I mechanically leaned forward and took the box from the baker's hands, mind somewhere else. "They're, um, cookies."

Oh, wow. This is something my family could never afford, even after a good hunting day. Why was he giving me this? I was going to kill his son in a matter of time; I in no way deserved this. Well, I hope I don't have to kill him. I didn't want to be rude and just sit there after he had given me such an extraordinary gift, so I cleared my throat and spoke up. "Some cloudy sky, huh?"

This seemed to trigger something inside him, because for the first time I've seen him, he smiled.

He chuckled, got up, kissed my forehead and then patted my shoulder. "I'll make sure the little girl's eating."

Some little knot of tension releases inside of me. His words ensure a safety I would never be able to give Prim on any other day. I swallow and manage to croak something out. "Thank you."

He walks out the door, leaving me some time to put myself back together before another visitor comes. Why would he visit me? Has he already talked to Peeta? Will he even visit him?

Madge storms through the door.

"Take my pin," she says. She seems in a rush. "What? Why? I can't do that." I answer

She put the pin in my hand and answered, "They let you wear one thing into the arena as your token from your district. Will you wear it?"

I nod. "OK," She gives me a peck on the cheek, tells me, "Good luck Bay," and leaves.

I look down at the pin. It shimmers in the few rays of light that shines through the clouds. I take a better look at the bird. It's a Mockingjay, a slap in the face to the Capitol. It's in mid-flight, barely hanging on with the tips of its wings to the circle that contains it. There's an arrow in its mouth stretching from one edge of the circle to the other.

The door creaks open and I looked up.

"Gale."

He steps forward with his arms open and I practically jump into them. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, wishing I could feel this safe forever. "You're going to be fine," he whispers. I nod, fighting tears, and answer in a whisper, "It's just so unfair."

He grips me tighter, seeming like he wasn't ever going to let go. He must know what I'm going through. We know each other so well it's scary. He pulls back but still holds onto my arms.

"You need to get your hands on a bow," he says firmly

"They don't always have one-"

"Then make one. You're strong Bay, you can hunt."

I look down at my shoes. "A-animals…"

"There's not a difference."

"Yes, there is!"

"Not out there Bay."

I bite my lip and think about it. He's right, but you still can't help but think afterwards if they had a family, a girlfriend or boyfriend, or in my case, a sibling that needed them to come home.

A Peacekeeper marches in, stating firmly, "You have time for one more visitor, Miss Trayvark."

I hug Gale, "Don't let them starve!"

The Peacekeeper starts dragging him out, giving Gale enough time to say, "You know I won't! Remember, I-"and then the door slams close, leaving me standing there like a waiting duck.

I drag myself over to the couch and wait for my family to come in. Why me, why Peeta, why Prim? Damn the system. Damn the Games. Damn the Capitol. Damn them all to the deepest pits of Hell.

Prim burst through the door and climbs into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her face into my neck. I held her and let her cry a little bit. After she was done, she sat up and told me, "You have to win Bay."

"Prim,-"

"You have to Bay! Please."

I nodded. "I'll try."

She shook her head. "No, promise me you'll try."

"I promise," I say. I smile and kiss her forehead. She must know I don't stand a chance, doesn't she? There are people who have trained their whole lives to be in the Games. No, win the Games.

I move her off my lap and stood in front of my mother.

"You can't leave, mom. She needs you; after I'm gone you're all she has."

"I was sick last time Bay, I-"

"Then take some medicine, something! You can't leave her, promise me you won't."

She nods, "I promise."

I pull her into a hug. As much as I hate her for leaving us, she's my mom. Her and Prim are my only family, and even that is being taken away from me. Prim comes over to us and joins us, and we sit there, hugging, until the Peacekeeper comes. He starts pulling them out, but I manage to say, "Gale will bring game every day, he'll expect a small trade of herbs or string. You can survive off that and money made from Lady's milk!"

"We know, we love you Bay!" my mother manages to say.

The door slams, making a breeze that rustles my hair some.

"I love you too." I whisper.