Eleven at night. Was it late? Yes. Was it necessary for me to be out at this time of night? Absolutely. After all, what we were doing at the moment was so totally worth it.

"Yo man, this is going to be so fucking rad." I told my friend as I continued to rub fish guts all over myself.

"Wait a minute..." Cleat said in wonder. "Did you just say, rad? What century are you living in man?"

"Oh come on," I said to him as I took a sniff of the revolting smell of dead sea animals. Only six hours dead in the blistering sun. Perfect. "Rad is an awesome word you know it."

"I haven't heard anyone say that word since we were six years old. We're eighteen now." He answered me as he drew a finger across my face like he was finger painting on a blank canvas. "Nobody uses that word anymore."

"Well you know what, I'm going to bring that word back and you can't stop me."

"Yeah whatever. Good luck saying that in front of everyone as you get laughed at."

We continued to cover myself in fish innards before throwing on some dirt for added effect.

Our plan was simple. Our plan was effective. Our plan was going to cause mayhem. At least, it was going to cause mayhem to some people, but they were the people we were targeting, and boy was it going to create an effect.

Everyone was so wound up because it was a quarter quell that they forgot how to have a good laugh. They were all so serious and just kept on the morbid side of things. Well that was going to change tomorrow. Or if we were really lucky, tonight. Hopefully it'll be tonight, but if I had to wait until tomorrow, it would seem even more devastating, and it would create a bigger effect.

I shivered as the wind blew across my body, making the cold fish guts seem even colder than they already were. I should of brought a blanket or something.

"It's a shame that Delfina ain't with us." I said to Cleat. "But if this can get her out of her moody mood, then it'll be the next best thing."

"Hasn't been the same since those rebels called her and told her... Well... Whatever it was that they told her." He explained as he started to pack up what was left of our equipment. "I mean, it must be something bad if she won't even want to hang with us to commit this act."

"A-men to that." I replied.

The rebels. If there was anyone that needed to have a good laugh it was them. They were way too serious for their own good. I mean, I get that they're trying to make this place better, but if they keep on going on how they're going, they'll just even up being a bunch of paranoids.

I respect them, I really do. And the more I've talked to them the more I find myself willing to join their cause. But unlike my friends, I'm not as into it as them. I mean, Delfina uses her home as a rebel safe house, while Cleat help them by being their strategist sometimes. But me, I just like talking to them, listening to them, and lightening their mood a little. Sometimes, I even give them free fish. Lord knows we can afford it.

I may be with them, but I'm not with them. Yet. "I'd tell them to let Delfina off their leash and allow her to live life a little, but knowing them..."

I didn't need to say the rest, Cleat got it.

"Yeah." He sighed as he snapped his case shut. "Here, take a look at your ugly mug and tell me what you think before I leave." He said as he tossed me a miniature mirror, which I easily caught.

I surveyed myself in the low light. My tan skin now looked paler than Cleat's. Smudged dirt covered the freckles cross the bridge of my nose. My light brown hair was now a mess of dried blood and dirt. Though my sea green eyes still looked the same.

"I still look better than your ugly face." I laughed as I tossed the mirror back.

"Well then I've got nothing to lose." He countered as he pushed his thick framed glasses up his nose. "Heavens forbid that a short, black haired guy like me get covered in dirt and grime. While you Mr. Turret Tawell, lose your looks and the ladies."

"I've banged more chicks and penetrated more dudes than you ever will in your lifetime." I rounded evenly.

"Slut." He laughed before we lightly banged fists together.

It was our thing. I'd comment about his asexuality, and he'd comment about my easiness. In my opinion, it showed how close we were. However, it still wasn't as close as Delfina and I were. Damn. I wish she were here right now. "But seriously dude, your mom might die, kill me, then die again."

"It's kill me, die, then kill me again." I corrected. "And if that happens to her because of something this minor, then she deserves to die." Not really, I love my mom, but she needs to worry less often and less intensely. I'll save her hair from going grey.

"Well then, as I said earlier, who should I tell first? Your family or the rebels?"

"Tell my family, and then the rebels." I told him as I laid down on and between the tall reeds. "And then tell Delfina." I then let out a wide smile. "And make it dramatic as well. Be like... A drama king or something. But not so over the top that they think it's fake."

"No problem. Easy as..."

"I swear to God dude, if you say mother fucking pie I will smack you across the face because I know for a fact that making pie is harder than it seems."

"Well I was going to say as easy as you becoming a bloodbath victim in the Hunger Games, but for you, I'll say it. Easy as mother fucking pie."

"Fuck you." I laughed before I picked up a handful of dirt and threw it at him. It hit his legs.

"Well, better get going." He explained as he stood up and brushed himself off. "People to freak out, people to leave."

"What am I supposed to do while waiting?" I asked.

"I don't know. Sleep?"

"Works for me." I told him before I closed my eyes. "This prank is going to be so awesome man."

"You know it." He laughed. And like that, he was gone.

With that, I was left with my thoughts. When they did me, all covered with fish guts and I look like I'm dead, they're going to freak the fuck out. There will be fits of crying and hysteria. Followed by anger and clouded minds. And then when I show them that I'm not really dead, there will be anger, then crying, then laughter, then joy. We'll have a good sweet time and hopefully the dark mood will rise a little. Mom might try to kill Cleat and I, but it'll be worth it.

The reapings will come, and my friends and I will make fun of the Capitol's goofy accent, someone will get picked, the rebels will continue on with their jobs, more kids will die, a victor will be crowned, and history will repeat itself.

All in all, I only had one regret.

I wish I could be on a boat right now.

I mean seriously. Nothing. Could possibly. Ruin the mood I am in right now.

"You guys are crazy if you want to go in that arena. I like living, thank you very much."

Those words repeated in my head again, and again, and again. It was torture, like a broken record player playing that one part of that one song that you absolutely hated, but there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Sighing heavily, I placed the throwing knife I had been holding back in it's sheathe and turned back to my mother. Sleeping in her rocking chair with a string of drool coming out of her mouth, she looked like she couldn't harm anyone. It was a different story not too long ago as she had a look her in eyes that said not to mess with her. She had been actively standing, or rather, sitting guard and it looked like nothing could stop her if something did happen.

Now she looked peaceful and relaxed. Not a bad look on her.

At least she's getting some sleep. I thought with a yawn, looking at the clock behind her. Three eleven in the morning. I should be sleeping, but I wasn't. I was too worried to fall asleep. But then again, that's what my mother had thought, and now look at her.

But at least I wasn't the only one that was awake and in my company. My older sister, Memory Worthington, was staring at the front door. Just staring at it with a blank look that I couldn't describe. But if I had to, it would be nothing short of creepy and weird. She was perfectly still, perfectly silent. The only indication she was alive was the soft rise and fall of her chest and the slow blinks that she gave off once in a while.

"Memory," I said softly, trying to get my sister's attention. She didn't react, didn't even blink. I tried again. "Memory," Still nothing. "Memory." I said a little bit louder before I tossed a throwing knife at her. The knife struck the floor five feet away from her, and yet, from the way she screamed, you would of thought the knife sank into her flesh.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" I yelled, waving my hands in front of me. "Calm down! Calm dow-"

All of a sudden, the front door burst open and three armed men stormed into the house.

"Get down! Get down!" They shouted as they swung their guns around.

"It's just us!" I told them before they lowered their weapons. My sister's screams of terror came to rest.

"I'm sorry," She told us. "I just thought-"

"Yeah. My bad." I explained before the lead figure sighed and walked up to me. "I tried to get her attention with a knife." Though he didn't remove the black mask from his face, the piercing green eyes told me that it was Dannon Worthington, my father. I had his eyes.

While my sister had my mother's calm blue eyes, my father and I had sharp green eyes. But if there was anything that we all shared, it was our tan skin and curly blonde hair.

"You know you should do things like that with your sister." My father said to me. And though he wasn't being harsh to me, his voice had some bite in it.

"Yeah. I know. Sorry." I apologized. I should of known better. Ever since Memory came back from the arena three years ago, she never was the same. Nightmares and staring into nothingness for who knows how long.

My father rubbed my head, because even though I sixteen she still thought of me as his little girl, before he got the other two men to come outside with him. My mom didn't wake up the entire time, though I'm sure we were protected well enough.

My father, along with fourteen other rebels, were protecting me from the peacekeepers that may or may not come after me. From the radio frequency that they had hacked, they managed to get some information about what was going on. The peacekeepers were going to kidnap someone from the district, that was the quell this year. Kidnapping. They said they were going to get a couple of rebel supporters, so they instantly thought of me and my family. So the rebel leader got fifteen of his troops, including my father, to guard the house.

Because ever since Memory came back, we've been supplying them with money, weapons, transportation, and other useful resources. We wanted the games to stop, so that nobody else would have to suffer like my sister had. I wish she never volunteered. I wanted my old sister back.

Maybe with our help, our district rebels will be able to make a difference. Everything will be perfect in the end. I highly doubted it since the Capitol has so much power and influence. Especially in districts One and Two. But a girl can hope, right? "I'm so sorry, Memory."

"Yeah. I'm sorry too, Clarity."

She didn't look at me. Why wouldn't she look at me? Was it because I reminded her of what she used to be in terms of looks? We looked nearly identical except for our eyes. And while my face was thin with a curvy figure, my sister's face was thinner and she had lost some of her assets due to her not eating as much as she should.

She hardly looked at me anymore. Why? Why won't she-

The door creaked open and I saw a burly masked figure stumble inside. He looked like he could barely support his own weight as he wobbled on his feet.

"Run." He gasped weakly before he collapsed on the floor. I didn't know what was wrong with him, but I did notice that there was a small syringe with a green feather stuck out his back.

Then a deafening bang and a flash of bright lights attacked my sight and hearing. I think I screamed as I cupped my hands next to my ears, I don't know, I couldn't even hear myself over the intense ringing in my ears. I could see anything over the multitude of colours in my vision. But I did know one thing.

"Don't let them take me!" I shouted, even if I couldn't hear myself, as I started to feel surprisingly weak. And tired. Why's everything turning black? "Don't let them-"

A/N: I'm not used to writing like this, but I like it. District Three is up next.

Also, if anyone reads this far (because I hope to assume that people that want to submit will read this far), when I ask for their reaction to being kidnapped, I mean like, what would their reaction be when they find themselves in the arena.