HOORAY! It's my 16th birthday! Here's a present from me to you!

If you couldn't tell, I'm getting pretty sick of reapings so I did this quick and dirty.

Haha it sucks so much Pls love me omg

Sakura Hatake

"Damn girl!" I let out a musical laugh at my friend Amy's remark, not really surprised, I know I look good.

"You like?" I spin around in my cornflower blue dress, my matching heels clicking on the wood floors of Amy and I's bedroom. The petite brunette laughs and claps jokingly as I place a hand on my jutted out hip and wink sassily. Reassured that my outfit looks good, I shut the door to the bathroom we share and examine Amy's outfit for the first time. Her coral dress accentuates her blue eyes nicely and her nude heels make her legs look even longer, a difficult feat. The 5' 10 girl has me beat by 3 inches barefoot, and in heels she's a whole head taller than me. I click my 6 inch heels together observing her 3 inch ones, the reaping is the one day of the year that Amy doesn't completely tower over me.

Amy smiles cheerfully and returns her attention to her nails, which she's currently picking at incessantly. I roll my eyes, slightly wishing that she'd spend more time fussing over how nice I look, but just by looking at her, I can tell she's done dishing out compliments for today. I sigh deeply through my nose and walk to the pristine floor to ceiling window and glance out. Our marble street in district one shines under the warm summer light like it always does and our neighbor's immaculate lawns are perfectly trimmed, as always. People are already starting to congregate in the streets dressed in their reaping clothing, but Amy and I are staying in, in unspoken agreement, until the siren, there's no need to get hot and sweaty before it's necessary.

I arch my back and run a hand over my scar-covered arms, going over in my head what each one was from.

Marina: knife fight, James: machete vs. sword, Kiera: Scythe battle, Amber: flying disks…

The list goes on for ages as my body is covered in scar. Each pink blemish has an accompanying story and I am proud of each one. Each battle wound was a lesson well learned: never leave your legs unguarded, don't swing for the head, they'll be expecting it, and never ever think you're safe, even for a second.

I retrace each lesson in my head; as though once I volunteer I'll forget everything. Once I volunteer. An icy chill of excitement runs down my spine. The word volunteer tastes so familiar yet foreign at the same time. From the age of 5, I knew I would volunteer for the Hunger Games, I think it party has to do with them.

My parents abandoned me when I was only a few weeks old and left me on Amy's parent's doorstep, no explanation, no apology, they just left me. When I was little I used to cry at night, wondering why my parent's didn't love me like everyone else's parents did, but eventually I realized there was no use in crying. No amount of tears would bring them back to me. I recoil at the mere thought my parents, a sour taste in my mouth.

No. I think to myself you left me, you don't to be with me, not today, get out of my head! The images that I picture my parents as disappear almost instantaneously as the siren sounds. I touch my gently tousled hair and spin around, ready to get down to business. Amy yawns and stretches as she lifts herself off her bed and onto her heels. I don't bother waiting for her as I exit our room, heels clicking in an efficient sounding manner. I stomp down the marble staircase and out the front doors with a renewed sense of urgency, Amy in tow. We don't speak the entire walk to the town square, silenced by the knowledge of what I'm about to do. I never told Amy that the real reason behind my desire to volunteer. I don't know what she thinks of it, I never asked and she has never graced me with her opinion. We approach the check in desk and I shove my way through the crowd of well-dressed people, suddenly impatient. I thrust my finger in front of a startled looking peace keeper, ready to just get in the crowd and get the formalities over with.

I eventually reunite with Amy in the 18's section a few minutes after our separation at the check in desk. We don't look at each other, the barrier of discomfort hanging loosely between us. I can feel that she wants to say something, I think she just can't quite find the words to say whatever it is on her mind, or perhaps she doesn't want to. Our escort from last year soon bursts onto the stage, sending cheers through the buzzing crowd. I've heard it's different in the other districts, complete silence even. I can't even imagine not having all the excitement, it's invigorating.

I watch the film through renewed eyes, excitement starting to course through my blood. I wonder if everyone who volunteers feels this way or if it's just me….

"Alrighty everyone!" Hacter Fleshman's overly giddy voice rings out across the excited crowd as he digs a hand in the bowl, everyone knows it's useless, the real person going into the games will be the fastest to volunteer. I ready myself, to make sure no one gets my spot.

"Ameila Fli-"

"I VOLUNTEER"

I scream it loud so there's no mistaking, I am Sakura Hatake, and I am a force to be reckoned with.

Oh my god this was bad. PLease don't say anything mean in the reviews, I WILL CRY. I just figured it's better to get through the reapings no matter how bad they are...k?