Vinna Hegarty, 18, D1

I lie in bed peacefully, my mind much too active to even hope of sleep. There's also a feeling of a pit in my stomach, the kind of feeling a weaker person might mistake for fear. Not me. This is how I feel when I feel alive.

How is everything going so perfectly? Just months ago I didn't even have a chance at being the first volunteer, and now I can go to sleep at night knowing that soon, my gorgeous face will be the one those urchins stare at after I volunteer.

Does it haunt me knowing how I earned my position? Not really. To have regret shows weakness, and that if I had the chance to go back and change something, I would. No way in hell would I change a thing about how it all played out. My only regret is that I didn't think of this sooner. Oh, well. The Reaping is tomorrow and finally all my hard work will pay off.

My thoughts start to turn hazy as my eyelids flutter shut, now much too heavy to keep open. I feel so incredibly comfortable, like I'm sleeping on a cloud.

…

Janelle's eyes are glittering from the tears flooding them, like gleaming sapphires. This is the last thing I noticed about her before my butcher's knife sank into her heart. I had to laugh at her last words before the moment of impact.

"No, Bijou, don't!"

Of course she thinks it's Bijou. All it took was a tacky black wig and sunglasses along with a frock in the horrific shades of blue she dresses herself in to resemble someone as classless as Bijou. And it makes sense too, for her to be doing this. Janelle is the only person that stands in Bijou's way of being the chosen volunteer.

Unless, of course, she were to get caught doing such an act.

As Janelle, or should I say what used to be Janelle lies in a crumpled heap at my feet, I hear footsteps. Soon enough what sounds like a crowd of Peacekeepers are on the scene. I keep my back turned.

"What have you done?! Put down the weapon and show yourself!"

I do as they say and twirl, my pale blue blouse fluttering in the breeze. I give them an almost maniacal laugh, evolving into a full-on cackle.

But the sound is strange, like it's not coming from my own body. I look down at my blood-stained hand and it's not my own hand. I would never wear my nails this short. Spooked, I attempt to yank the wig from my head but the black hair won't come off to reveal my own blonde locks. Whilst doing so I knock off the dark sunglasses I was wearing that hid my eyes.

"Bijou Cameron?!"

Confusion overcomes me. I was sure they'd recognize me but instead they keep mistaking me for the girl I masqueraded as. The Peacekeepers rush to the body and restrain me by the elbows.

"You killed her! You killed Vinna!"

What?!

I try to express my shock but when I open my mouth, no words come out. Suddenly my hands go numb and fur begins to sprout from them. My teeth also feel sharper than normal. Upon looking into the puddle of blood on the ground I see the reflection of a cat.

I turn my head to the girl I just killed and notice that it is no longer Janelle. Instead, I lay on the ground, the life bleeding out of me. For whatever reason the blood looks dull and grey. Colors don't seem to register anymore. I can barely see the tone of the blonde hair on my corpse or the glazed-over green eyes. Is this what cats see? What also doesn't register is shock or surprise of any kind. This all feels strangely normal.

The Peacekeepers have turned into animals as well, only they're dogs instead of cats. I can't tell what kind of dog. All I know is that they look like they're about to eat me.

No, please, don't!

A mere whimper escapes from me as the growling dogs close in on me. But much to my surprise the dogs go after my lifeless human body instead of actually me. I thought they were going to eat it but instead they just lick my beautiful but pale face over and over. I helplessly watch them in my cat form, growing angry.

Ew, no, stop that!

They ignore me and continue to lick.

I hate dogs.

I blink and suddenly I'm at home. Mom's face comes into view as I notice her leaning in to embrace me.

"Vinna, what would you say if I told you I didn't want you to volunteer for the Games?"

I look at her, dumbfounded.

"Why wouldn't I volunteer? It's literally the key to a good life." I mean that, too. Life isn't worth living unless you make it big. My mom happened to make it big as a fashion designer but I have my own calling.

"Because if you do, you'll die!" Her voice sounds shaky and frightened, nothing like her usual calm and calculated demeanor that I take after. I'm starting to get unsettled by her odd behavior and turn to leave. I open the door to my room and for whatever reason the walls look like a night sky, and my bed is floating. I notice Blush and Twinkle sitting atop it. I normally trust Blush a little more than most people but she is giving off the vibe that she wants to hurt me. Twinkle just stares off into the distance, holding a piece of paper.

"There you are, Vinna. Have a taste of your own medicine!" Without warning she leaps off the bed and buries a blood-stained knife into my chest. She didn't even have the decency to wash it first?

I'm on the ground, feeling so weighted that I can't even get up, but strangely enough I don't feel pain, or any kind of sensation whatsoever.

"Sorry, Vinna. You were next on the hit list," Blush tells me with a wicked expression on her face. Twinkle shows me the paper with my name written on it in giant red letters. They even took away my infamous list. I made it first. They can't just take it!

I'm always the hunter, never the hunted!

My own friends have decided that it's time to eliminate me. What goes around comes around, I guess. No use in getting upset over it.

…

My eyes burst open and the first thing I notice is the pit in my stomach again, only it's much, much deeper than last time. Much to my annoyance, it isn't going away.

"Vinna, dear, are you alright?!" I didn't even notice my dad standing in my doorway.

"I'm fine," I mumble, my patience thinning.

"You were screaming. And you're sweating like a pig," he says nervously. "You must have had a bad dream." I can tell Dad means well but him calling me a pig does not sit right with me. Vinna Hegarty is no pig. But I'm too tired to vocally express that so I just shrug.

"Maybe," I say in a nearly inaudible tone as my head flops back into my pillow and my door clicks shut. I try to rummage through my thoughts. I definitely did dream, but I just can't remember what it was. Suddenly a fragment of it pops in my head as I remember having a small, soft paw and fangs.

Oh, that's right. I dreamt I was a cat.

I glance over at my clock, which reads half-past three o'clock. Only six and a half hours until the Reaping.

I'm meeting with Blush, Twinkle, and the rest of my "friends", as some people would call them, for one last meeting before I come home as a Victor. I might as well be an early bird today, of all days. I rise from my bed and start to stretch, abandoning the prospect of a few more hours of rest and perhaps a more prophetic dream.

First "Reaping" chapter! Obviously this one was a bit different from most Reaping chapters and not all of them will have the exact same formula of the tribute dreaming about some life experience but they'll basically dive into their deeper thoughts. That'll be a theme of this story :D

Keep submissions coming! The sooner all the slots are filled the sooner we can start for real. Thanks for reading!

-Maia/Aemma