*DISTRICT 7*


*STARIA ASPEN*
*SIXTEEN*

Gritting her teeth, Staria forces herself to make her way once again into the woods on the east side of District 7. It's always been a hard place for her. After her parents died in a huge forest fire (thanks to a bonfire left sparking by Peacekeepers), she's been scared to be near the trees.

"Staria!" shouts her squadron leader, Bena Solomon, a middle-aged woman with long dark hair and one eye sewn shut. "Stop dreaming and move your butt over here. These trunks ain't gonna chop themselves, ya know." She chomps on gum, a luxury.

"Sorry." Staria drags herself through the foliage, pausing before bringing up her axe and smashing it into the bottom of the tree.

"Hey, Star!" hollers one of her friends, 17-year-old Jaykob. "Can you take over here for a few minutes? It's just branding these logs."

"Sure," she agrees, setting down her axe and walking over to the machine. Trimmed trunks pour out the side onto the ground, and Staria sets to work burning her squadron's logo (a fancy S, with a seven nestled in the bottom curve) into the logs.

Staria's almost finished when Bena shouts, "That's all for today. Reaping in one hour. Potential tributes, get home, get changed, and good luck. The rest of you, have a nice day off. See you bright and early tomorrow."


*SEBASTIANO SCHILLACIANI*
*EIGHTEEN*

Sebastiano arises late on Reaping Day. Just one more time. One more time, and you'll never face the chance of being Reaped again. After what happened with his father, Seb knows he would die if he went into the Hunger Games, because he will never again be able to kill someone with a knife, and that's the only weapon he really knows how to use.

He doesn't know what time it is, but the sun is well up, and District 7 Reapings take place at 11:00 sharp. To his judgement, it's probably already after 10:00. He throws off his thin blankets and looks around his empty house. Ever since the day he became an orphan, he's lived alone, on autopilot.

He wakes up, chops down some trees, accepts his meager portion of money and rations, and shows up once a year at the Reaping.

He also dreams.

Not good dreams.

They're mostly nightmares. The night when his abusive father beat and strangled his mother to death. That was the same night Seb had grabbed a knife from a kitchen drawer and stabbed Mr. Schillachiani four times: twice in the back, once in the leg, and once straight through the heart.

Technically, he'd orphaned himself, but he doesn't like to think that way.


*DISTRICT 7 REAPING*

In her clean forest-green dress that matches her eyes, Staria stands surrounded by a group of girls her age.

"So, Staria," asks the obnoxious Ream Keller, "do you think that dreamy Seb Schillachiani will be Reaped?"

"I'm not really sure, Ream," Staria replies. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, but I sure hope not," Ream rattles. "I mean, then he wouldn't walk around the District anymore. He's totally the strong, silent type."

Personally, Staria thinks Seb Schillachiani is stuck-up and conceited, and she wonders for the umpteenth time just why the hell Ream is so popular when she doesn't even know what she's even talking about. "Yeah, Ream, I guess I'd miss him too."

"Shh." Bellie Myrns slaps Staria on the arm. "The Reaping is starting."

Staria turns back to pass the message back to the others, then closes her mouth and faces forward again.

Wynter Walsh prances onto the stage. Her entire body is decorated with snowflakes to match her name, even though it's the middle of May. "Hello, friends of District 7! How is everyone today?"

There are some muted replies of, "Good," but Wynter doesn't hear, as she speaks right through the dull undertone of noise.

"Well, well, that's just fabulous!" Wynter takes her time approaching the glass bowls, but chooses a name right away. "Staria Aspen!"

"That's you," Ream hisses, shoving Staria forward.

"No shit," Staria snaps. "How much more obnoxious could you be? Honestly, Ream, you're such an idiot most of the time."

There's no way she's making it out alive, so she might as well take the opportunity to express her true feelings.

Wynter extends a hand to Staria to help her onto the stage before selecting the boy. "Sebastiano Schi, er, Chi... um, Shillakiani!"

"It's Sebastiano Schillachiani," Seb announces in his careless, arrogant way as he strolls up to the stage. "Call me Seb."

But inside, his heart is pounding.

He's going to die. This is his death sentence.

He is going to die.