Ok guys, thank you so much for bearing with me as I perfect this chapter, you've been great! I'm sorry it took so long to upload but you want it to be good, right? In the future, I'll try to aim for week intervals, I think that's more realistic for this section of my story.

Lysmachia's POV
The words sink in and I pause the video.

"I'm sorry Lich, but I think we should wait until Mom and Dad go to bed."
"Lys, are you kidding me? We just started watching it, and Dad's too busy with Gram to worry about us."
"Alright, I just feel weird about sneaking behind Dad's back."
"Well, don't it's not like we're lying to him, he didn't say we couldn't watch TV today."
"But, he said we couldn't use the TV last week after we ruined my old baby tape."
"Oh, c'mon, he won't mind... He won't even notice."

That last comment won me over, but I still felt uneasy. We could get into a lot of trouble if we ruined another of Dad's old irreplaceable tapes. I press the button, and quickly turn down the volume, way down. Music plays as a blur of pictures flicker on the screen. I pause it again, and Lich and I scoot nearer.

Each picture is of three people, two kids and one adult, standing on a stage. Sometimes there is another adult in the background, but all the pictures flash by so fast I don't really pay attention to the people. There are eleven pictures.

This must be the shortened, three-hour version of one of the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games. The words fill me with excitement. I am sure to get extra credit for this. I try to get my bearings. What happens first? They have to pick the kids, so these must be the reapings. But why only eleven pictures? Shouldn't there be one for each district?
I click the play button and the music fades to show the camera panning across a sea of teenagers. Some look dark and thin, while others look pale and alert. But the looks are the same: anxiety. For some, it is obvious, for others it is hidden behind masks that are beginning to crack.

The cameras focus on the stage where a man and a woman stand. The man is relatively normal, except for his old-fashioned clothes, but the woman has a bright green suit that completely clashes with her pink hair. She is sitting next to the man on a small rickety stage and she grimaces through her plastered smile as she walks across the faded boards to the microphone. Towards the back of the stage are three chairs, one of which the women was sitting in, and the other is filled with the man. He is a small, stiff man who is sitting straight in his seat, trying to look official. The third chair is empty, which is strange, there should be at least one mentor present, and the man has a little badge identifying him as the mayor so he can't be a mentor. I'm confused until the cameras pan to a man, who is lying on the ground in front of the stage, completely unconscious. Perhaps he is the mentor, and they repeatedly pan to him to keep him included, despite his, well, incongruous appearance and position (It's not really becoming of any person, much less a mentor, to be face down on the ground).
The women begins to speak and the microphone gives a squeak as her high pitched voice is transmitted throughout the square. She has something in her hand, I'm not sure what it is, it's too small to see. As the camera zooms in on what I now recognize as a piece of paper, she reads two words. I can't hear what she says though, until the sea of children part for a small blond girl. The women must have been calling her. She looks familiar but I can't place her and by now the camera is panning quickly to the stage, following the path of the young girl. Just when the girl reaches the stage another girl, this one brown-haired and a bit older, runs forward and shoves the girl off the stairs to the stage as she screams, "I volunteer, I volunteer as tribute!"

The fear, desperation, and almost insanity are obvious on her face and in her voice until she heaves a deep breath and composes her face. The small girl has wrapped her arms around the larger girl's waist, keeping her from stepping onto the stage. You can see the struggle on her face until a rugged boy pushes through the crowd and throws the small girl over his shoulder. He meets the brown haired girl's eyes for a second and I notice that they look remarkably alike. The girl and boy share the same eye, hair, and skin color. However the girl is rather skinny and her face has a pinched sour look. She quickly wipes her face clan of emotions though, and she walks stiffly up to the stage to stand by lady.
The women grip her shoulder tightly: "What is your name?" The girl shakily responds "Katniss Everdeen." Her unsteady voice echoes throughout the square of supposedly indifferent people. It doesn't register until the women begins to gush again "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we!"

Then it clicks: I know that name and I know both girls. My mother's name is Katniss. She had a small blond sister, Daddy painted her into the book. The pieces come together to form one train of thought: My mother was reaped into The Hunger Games.

Then the women calls forth a boy. Her voice is so strange, almost like a high-pitched shriek that I only catch the last syllable of the phrase 'arc'. The boy arrives at the stage uneventfully, although his face is focused on the ground. When he shakes my mother's hand and raises his face, Lich and I draw in a collective breath. That face, though a lot younger than it is now, is sitting in our living room. Dad was reaped for the Hunger Games too!
The impossibility of the idea muddles with my brain until I realize that we are not alone in the room. I look up and the intruder leans against the doorframe. "So you finally know? About time really..."

I hope you enjoyed the strange ending I put there. I was writing the chapter and had no idea on how to end it, so I just ended it abruptly. No, I'm not telling who the intruder is, sorry, you have to wait a week to see. Do you have any ideas for the names of Gale's kids? I'm drawing a blank and that's why I've been holding back on introducing Gale. Don't forget to review, review, review!