I feel like someone punched me in the chest, knocking all the air from my lungs. I am unable to breathe in or out, so I just stand there wide eyed. Disconnected from the world around me. How? How is my name the one that is picked? Twenty-one times my name was in that bowl, only twenty-one. There are people whose names are in there a hundred times, so how am I the one to be chosen?

I hear the cries from mom a few feet away. Screaming for them not to take me, to leave me alone. I manage to turn my head to see her being held back by two peacekeepers as she cries hysterically, her thin frame doing little to push through the peacekeepers grasps.

I take a shaky breath before turning to make my way out of the cluster of kids All of whom clear the way, avoiding me like I am a walking plague, if they get near me they might catch the disease. I can feel everyone's gaze as I make my way into the isle between the two roped off areas.

I always thought it would be easy to look strong, emotionless, even possibly excited for the games if I am chosen, in an attempt to look like a favourable option to win the games and possibly win over a few sponsors. But the tasks is much harder now that me being chosen is a reality. It is difficult to walk let alone control my emotion. It only gets worse when Clauria makes her way into view.

"Remus!" She screams. Another peacekeeper grabs her, pulling her away from me. Her eyes are red with tears, she is having just as much trouble coming to reality with this.

The only thing I can do is walk past her. I give as good of a smile as I can, in some attempt to keep her calm, but it has little effect. I mount the stage and am guided to the middle by Volumnia.

Clauria is now screaming. She fights to get to the stage, to get to me, but the peacekeeper lifts her like she is nothing, throws her over his shoulder, and makes his way away from the stage.

Petro and I are left standing on the stage, staring in disbelief, the entire country looking back at us. I feel the pit in the back of my throat like I have swallowed a rock and it is trying to get back up. My heart beats with such intensity that it might burst from my chest. My breath is so shaky that it is hard to control it and hold back to the tears.

"Here are the tributes from District 6!" Volumnia smiles as she backs up.

It is customary to shake the other tributes hand. To wish each other good luck. In all honesty, I meant it. If I was not the one coming back then I hope it is Petro. Then at least District 6 would be showered with food and gifts for a year and my family would go to sleep with full bellies for 12 months.

But when I grasp Petro's hand I have little hope for her survival. They are smooth and delicate, the complete opposite to my rough, over-worked hands. Sh has never worked a day in her life, hasn't struggled, and has little to no strength. Her features are small and child like, except for her eyes which are large and brown in colour. Just from the look of her, I doubt she would win. Some victors have won just based off their wits, a girl who won by managing to evade the others until everyone starved to death, a guy who electrocuted six tributes at once, a guy from 3 a few years ago whom made traps all throughout the arena, killing 5 tributes without ever coming face to face with anyone. Maybe she could pull that off, but it's rare a tribute wins without actually fighting.

After we shake hands we are brought into the hob and taken to different areas.

I am placed in what was once an office area but has been temporary remolded just for the Reaping. A large couch sits by the wall with two plush chairs and a glass table. An oversized red rug has been placed over the normally cold and hard concrete flooring. This is where I will say my final goodbyes, where I will hug my friends and family one last time before being taken to the Capitol.

My family is the first to enter. Clauria grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug, her face still wet with tears. Mom is still crying as well. Her usual yellow skin has turned a bright red along with her eyes.

"My baby boy," She manages to choke out before grabbing me, burying her face into my chest and cries. Her nails dig into my back as she holds me tightly. I don't want her to let go, I don't want to go. I want to stay here, in District 6, with my family. But it is too late, there is no way I can stay now. Maybe when my name was called I could have slipped into the crowds, evaded the peacekeepers, made a run for it. District 6 is massive, it would take them a long time to search the entire district. But now it is too late. I hold mom in my arms.

We sit on the couch for a few minutes. Mom sits beside me, combing her fingers through my hair well Clauria sits on my lap, keeping her constricted grip on me. Michelle sits on the other side of me but shows little affection. She has trouble even staying awake from the dose of morphling she likely took before coming here.

"You could win," Clauria mumbles.

"I know," I mumble back.

I did have some kind of a chance. The heavy lifting during work has built muscle onto my body. I was one of the stronger men in my neighbourhood from it. So if I was in a fist fight I might have a chance. But there are tributes who have trained their entire lives for this game, who have learned how to kill, how to break someone's neck, how to cut someone so that they would bleed to death in under a minute. Those are the people I would be up against. How am I going to fight someone like that? I would be dead before I even got a punch in. I know I need to try, but it didn't seem plausible that I would come out alive. So I give my family another hug, what I know will likely be my last hug from them, the last time I will see them, feel them, even smell them.

"I'm going to miss you so much."

"Markos said you promised him you will win," Clauria suddenly says, "He was the one who lifted me away from the stage. He said that you need to try, that you can win."

"I will," I say.

I completely forgot about Markos until now. He won't be able to come say goodbye. It's forbidden for peacekeepers to have any kind of interaction with civilians unless it is to punish them. This morning was the last time I will see him. I didn't even really say goodbye to him.

A peacekeeper comes to tell us the time is up. Michelle goes without a fight but Clauria and mom protest.

"Win! You can do this Remus! Come back home to us!" Mom yells as she is dragged out of the room.

Clauria just keeps her clasp on me as a peacekeeper tries to pry her off. I grab her pack, giving her one last hug before I untangle her arms from behind me and allow her to be pulled away.

"No!" Clauria screams as she is dragged from the room.

I give another smile.

"Goodbye," I say before the door shuts. It takes everything to avoid crying. I want to just collapse right now, cry, huddle up in a ball. But I can't and I don't. I just stand in silence, staring at the door. What else can I do?

A few friends from school come and visit next. They talk about how I can win, how they will see me again, how they will be watching me so I got to to my best not to embarrass District 6. But after a few minutes they are ushered out and replaced by a man, my boss. The guy who is in charge of the hob at which I work at. It is a awkward visit, mostly in silence sitting beside each other. Near the end he pats my knee.

"You got this," He says.

After that there is no one left. For awhile I am left in the big empty room waiting to be taken to the train station that will take me to the Capitol. I am taken to a car that drives to the train station. A longer drive than I expected. Mostly due to the massive amounts of people on the streets. Some of them clap and cheer, but only a few. Most of them toss petals of the wild rose onto the road or as the car passes by. A tradition at funerals in District 6. If I wasn't being taken to my death, I might think it is beautiful. Driving on a pile of wild rose petals well even more rain down from the air as we whiz past.

The station is crawling with film crews and people. We step out and can feel the cameras eye fixated on me. Reporters begin to recap what happened at the Reaping or else give information about Petro and I. We stand in the doorway of the train as camera crews take videos of us or else pictures. After they are satisfied we are taken into the train. That's when I feel it, the brush on my hand, something with weight being dropped into my palm. I stop on the step of the train and look to see a bracelet in my hand. But not any bracelet, Markos's. I have seen him wear it every time we have met, he never takes it off. I look back and see a peacekeeper standing at the doorway of the train. It's him.

"Markos." I say but the doors shut in front of me, blocking him from me. A sudden jerk almost knocks me off my feet and the train starts moving. Speeding away from my family, from Markos, from District 6. I am helpless to stop it. So I just stand in the doorway, looking through the small window as the train station shrinks and finally District 6 vanishes from view.