Here's chapter 4! Not my best chapter, but I already know what the next one will be about and I hope it will be very good! So if you happen to be reading this right now, PLEASE review, because I love to get feedback! My only reviewer right now is my friend Taylor, hahaha, love you girl!

"Mom…mom!"

My hair was being pulled, yanked, washed, and many other things for several minutes…which was longer than it had ever been fussed with before. Except maybe last year's reaping. But during the assault on my head, it felt much, much longer.

It was sort of like a tradition in District 12 that you looked your absolute best on the day of the reaping. After all, if you were to be picked for the Hunger Games, they show you on television. Although if you were in the moment, I bet the last thing you'd be worrying about is how your hair and outfit look to the viewers.

"Sorry!" And with one final yank, my mother was done with my hair. It was in a simple yet elegant ponytail. That and the fact that I was wearing my mother's old violet dress, made me hardly recognizable.

"Are you done?" I asked, wearily touching my newly styled hair. I didn't like dressing so fancy…it made me feel like I had something in common with the Capitol. Their luxurious ways disgusted me.

"Yes, Iris, I'm done," she said exasperatedly. "You make it sound like torture."

Well, you make it torture! I sighed and began to fix my father's tie. It was a deep blue, handed down by my great-grandfather. It must have been the most expensive thing in our whole house. The fabric was nice and soft, with an intricate design. There was a barely noticeable picture of some type of bird stitched into it. It looked unlike any other bird I've ever seen, but beautiful all the same.

"Are we all ready to go?" My father cleared his throat. It must have been hard, thinking about possibly losing your daughter. Or losing Peeta, who he always said was a 'fine young man'. They'd worked together at the Bakery many times. There was Madge, too, the mayor's daughter. She had often come by to offer strawberries to us…though we barely ever had enough money for them. Still, she was pleasant to talk to, and my father was fond of her also. Being the mayor's daughter, her name had probably only been in the pickings the minimal amount of times. But even that couldn't necessarily save you…

"Yes, we are all ready," said my mother softly. She intertwined her fingers with my fathers, then with mine. This was sort of a tradition, too. We liked to walk out with what little dignity we had, living in the Seam.

I took one last look at our worn-down house, praying that I would see it again soon.

…

"Welcome, welcome."

I wanted to gag. Effie Trinket was probably the most peculiar being in all of Panem. Her hair was dyed a bright orange, and it was sticking out in all directions in…curls? I guess that's what they were supposed to be. She was wearing a dress with blocks of colors; some red there, purple there, pink, yellow…my eyes hurt just looking at her. I know everyone else thought the same thing, because some were wincing and trying to look in other directions.

We had all filed into the open section of land outside the Justice Building. It was swelteringly hot, which added to the feeling of not wanting to be there. Parents were wiping sweat off of their young children's faces. Many of the really young children were crying. It must have been because of the heat, because they were too young to understand why they were here.

"Let's have a round of applause for the seventy-third ever reaping!"

There were a few seconds of weak applauding. Effie looked slightly disgruntled.

"Alright, so let's get to it, shall we?" She walked-no, strutted- over to the large circular holder for the slips of paper with all of our names on them.

I felt myself trembling. I looked over to where the boys stood, and made eye-contact with Peeta. He looked just as nervous as I was. He was wringing his hands, and shaking his leg. I tried to shoot a confident smile towards him, as if to reassure him, but it probably came off more as trying to reassure myself.

"Ladies first!" She smiled sweetly out towards us.

It won't be me. It won't be…forty-one times, Iris! Forty-one!

"Alrighty! Our girl tribute for the 73 Annual Hunger Games is…"

I'll be fine. I will be fine. Please. Please let me be fine…oh no, forty-one times!

"Iris Deveron."