"Iona, Iona, Iona!"

I groan as I turn over to face my little sister, Canna, who's bouncing up and down on the bed we share. I mumble something that can be deciphered as 'Shut up', and roll over and cover my face with a pillow.

"Iona, dad says if you want to volunteer this year, you've got to get up now." He pauses as though considering something, before continuing "Not that you will be chosen if mum has her say in the matter."

I remove the pillow from my face and chuck it at Tiree, my brother, who ducks, and it hits Canna in the face, causing her to squeal in indignation.

"MUM!" she yells, "IONA CHUCKED A PILLOW AT ME!"

"TOUGHEN UP!" comes the familiar refrain from my dad (followed by a shocked 'Barra!' from my mum) which causes Canna to pout and send me an extremely dirty look.

If looks could kill…

Well, if they could kill, she'd win the Hunger Games, no problem.

Not that mum would let her volunteer anyway; it took around two years of whining on my part (along with shouting from my dad) for her to let me try this year. Dad wanted to volunteer, but he waited to late, and he never got the chance. He sent me and Tiree to train when we were both 8 years old, to my mum's disgust.

She refused to let Canna train, and treats her like a fragile doll.

Luckily, she accepts that I want to enter, and that Tiree might next year, when he gets to 16 like me.

I clatter down the stairs wearing my reaping outfit a few minutes later, and practically throw myself onto the bench near the food. Tiree raises an eyebrow as I shovel food into my mouth.

"Don't you want to save your appetite for the capitol?" He asks, as I swallow 3 sausages at once.

"Ready your breakfast and eat hearty... For tonight, we dine in hell." I say in a voice muffled by pork.

Canna frowns at me "no wonder you want to enter the games, you're mad!"

Dad cuffs her around the head, before saying "there's no greater honour then the games, Canna"

She frowns at him, "but mum said…"

Dad sighs "Cara, what did you tell Canna?"

I sigh, giving Tiree a look. Another 'games' argument is about to occur.

Mum frowns at him "Canna's 13, she doesn't need to enter that, that, that place.

"I'm going!" I yell at them, as I grab Tiree and Canna, and we leave our parents to shout at each other. Again.

"And the female tribute for the 74th Hunger Games is… Eilean Tigh!"

A large 18 year old girl steps up, red hair swaying from side to side.

I take a deep breath and shout,

"I VOLUNTEER!"

My mum gives a small sob as I step forward, onto the stage.

I shout my name "Iona Fladday, future victor for district 4!"

That's when they start to clap.