*UPDATED*

Chapter five

Reaping day was looming around the corner, with twenty-four hours left of freedom I found myself taking in the district and all of its struggles. An old woman was sitting on a wooden crate bagging for food, children running around dressed in rags, a man being thrown out from a shop in the hob, people doing trades, miners making their way to work in the early morning all of it made me homesick.

The feeling of someone's fingers grazing my shoulder had me spinning around and taking a defensive stance prepared to defend myself, only when my eyes landed on Peeta's growing concerned expression I straightened and lifted a hand to quickly brush away the unwanted tear that had slipped free with thoughts of my home.

"Hey," I greeted him weakly before clearing my throat.

Peeta had mumbled a hey back still wearing his concerned expression as his eyes lingered on my face causing me to shift under his stare, normally he would have looked away and made a lighthearted remark about something or another. His silence was becoming unnerving, I was about to ask if he was ok when he had snapped out of it and looked around briefly taking in our surroundings before turning a small smile on me.

"Walk with me?" His question made me smile as I followed him to my spot, which over the past few months had become our spot. I liked thinking about it that way, our spot.

"What were you thinking about back there?" Peeta asked as we lowered ourselves onto the lush green grass. He was worried, but whether it was about the upcoming reaping or my previous thoughts I wasn't sure but if I had to guess I'd say the former.

"Nothing, why?" I asked tilting my head to the side as I pulled my legs into my chest and rested my arms on them.

"You looked sad." Peeta spoke without looking over at me, instead his gaze was fixed on the meadow beyond the fence while my eyes danced along the side of his face. I watched as he took even breaths and as his hand tightened into a fist on the grass, "can I ask you something?" He muttered as I frowned at the lowness in his tone.

"Always." I nodded missing how he tensed at my words.

"Are we friends?" He asked turning his blue gaze on me that were clouded over by his thoughts, confused I frowned at his question before pushing his arm gently trying to come off as teasing in hopes of lightening the mood.

"I was under that impression," I smiled briefly before my stomach clenched and turned at his words.

"Then don't do it." Peeta breathed almost in relief as I started to feel sick, He knows, oh god how did he figure it out? My mind raced as I opened and closed my mouth a few times fighting to find the right words to say.

"Don't do, what?" I managed a whisper hoping I was mistaken as my eyes found a piece of grass, reaching forward I plucked it from its bed and started to bend and twist the thin strand between my fingers, staring at it like it was the most interesting thing on this entire planet. Just like I had done the first time he had followed me to this spot, that was the day I had made my first friend, the day I had told him my story or as much of it as I could.

"I'm not blind," Peeta protested sounding dejected as I flinched "I've seen what you've been doing." He sighed shaking his head in defeat.

I couldn't help the wave of guilt I felt as I kept my eyes on the bending grass, it was strange in a way, I had been intending on this for awhile and hadn't anticipated telling anyone else other than Haymitch and that was purely because I wanted his help.

"You're training." Peeta's voice sounded strained as he placed his hand on top of mine, forcing me to look up at him. "You're planning on going into the games." Chewing on my bottom lip I felt my stomach twist in nerves as he pleaded with me, "Don't do it."

"I have to." I whispered the words that caused him to pull away from my hand like it had scorched his flesh, I froze watching as the look of betrayal appeared on his face.

"No, you don't," Peeta stated a look of disapproval on his face as his lips turned down in a frown, I hated seeing the look on his face as I shifted uncomfortable. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone." His statement caught me by surprise as he shook his head.

The air stilled in my throat as he moved brushing the hair out of my eyes as he continued to try and change my mind, "promise me, Kira please, if you're really my friend. Don't throw your life away."

The tears threatened to fall from my eyes as I opened and closed my mouth, I couldn't give him what he wanted, and I felt horrible. "I'm sorry…" the whisper left my lips as Peeta's shoulders slumped in utter defeat.

I watched him stand as he looked down, not meeting my gaze anymore as he whispered back "I'm sorry to."

I wanted to call him back, explain everything and tell him how sorry I really was but what would that change? What good would it do? Tomorrow he'd learn of his fate and tomorrow I will take his hand and help him live through it. Until then, I'd give him his space.

Burying my head in my knees and wrapped my arms tighter around them I forced back the scream of irritation that vibrated through my entire body as I allowed frustrated tears to fall.

The slight pressure change as the mattress dipped had pulled me from my surprisingly dreamless sleep; Greer had climbed into my bed again.

That made it every night this week, smiling softly I let her snuggle in closer as she curled up and I dropped my arm around her waist staring out the window. It was still dark out; I muffled a yawn with my hand and wiped some sleep from my eye. I would have to get up soon to hunt for the last time and most importantly to talk to Katniss Everdeen. I had to talk to her, we hadn't become friends, far from it actually but it was important she didn't mess with my plain and end up going into the games after all the training and preparations I had put into being ready for today.

I had to be the one who volunteered.

I still couldn't believe it had been nearly a year since my arrival to the district, when I had asked Peeta about it he had said I missed the reaping by exactly two weeks which meant in two weeks on my anniversary I could very well be dead.

If you included the week that I had spent in the woods than I would be entering the arena on the day of my arrival, but no matter what way I looked at it everything still seemed surreal.

In the past ten months since I started hunting, I've learned my way around the woods like I was walking through town, I knew where Katniss would be coming through and would enter the tree line at sun rise.

Which was way I had left nearly an hour earlier than she would, crouched beside a thick tree I waited for her to slink under the fence and make her way towards me. Not wanting to startle her, even knowing she was still unarmed I stood up and stepped out of the tree lines shadow.

Katniss had slowed to a stop as I had emerged, I knew she was glaring daggers at me before she had picked up her pace again. "Katniss," I greeted her with a nod as she shot me a look of contempt, "can we talk for a minute?" I asked ignoring her lack of joy to see me, as she kept walking closely keeping pace with her waiting for her to finally acknowledge me.

"I really don't have time," She finally stated seeing as I wasn't easily deterred.

"I'll be quick. It's about the reaping," I stated matching her hurried stride,

"You're scared?" Katniss guessed sounding off, "you should be." I watched as she paused momentarily eyeing me up and down, it was unnerving, "you're a decent hunter, maybe you should just run now." I could almost see the longing she felt at the idea of running, of taking her entire family and fleeing the capitals control. "Why are you even here?" Katniss asked bringing me back to my train of thought.

"I'm volunteering," I stated after a moment of silence.

"You're what?" She blurted raising her eyebrows, shocked by my confession "that's suicide." She whispered more to herself than to me, causing a pained smile to form on my lips.

"I know." I admitted, "But the way I see it if I go than another girl gets to stay, say Amya or Prim got reaped I would volunteer." I needed Katniss to hear me, to understand but all I got was a look of indignation.

"Prim won't get reaped." Katniss snapped stiffening at my words, smiling sadly I nodded.

"I know." I lied, I knew what I was talking about, but leaving the interpretation up to her.

"Why are you telling me this? To gain pity points. We're not friends," Katniss stated gesturing between the two of us, "I'm not taking care of your community home siblings for you." she stated her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"No, I don't expect you to." I stated pausing briefly, "I suppose I just wanted to tell someone who wouldn't try to talk me out of it." I stated, truthfully telling Katniss was starting to feel like a waste of time and I was starting to wish I could go back to when no one knew.

Not Katniss or Haymitch and definitely, not Peeta.

I almost snorted at the realization that the three original main characters were the ones who knew of my plan, and each one took the news exactly like I would expect, Katniss uncaring because if I went someone who belonged here stayed alive, Haymitch as complicated as ever supporting the idea from a distance and Peeta always trying to do the right thing and talk me out of going.

"Whatever, it's your funeral." Katniss muttered before glancing around impatiently as we stayed rooted in our respective spots before she turned her gaze back on me. "Are we done?" She asked raising a thin brow.

"Yeah, we're done." I nodded with a shrug before watching as she turned and stalked off. I didn't put any effort into hunting, as I walked aimlessly trying to clear my head.

Today was it, I would volunteer and go with Peeta to the capital where I'd be forced to watch and participate in the murder of twenty-two children. I felt my hands start to stake as I brushed back a strand of wavy brown hair, I had to remind myself that this was a story only a story and nothing was real.

Somewhere in the past twelve months though that had become extremely hard to believe, but as fragile as my truth was, I'd cling to it if it helped me help Peeta through the games.

Truth was I was running out of time, and it scared me, I hated feeling that tiny bit afraid but my stomach twisted and turned as I walked through the woods, slowly heading back to the distract where I would get ready with Amya, where I would volunteer to die.

What if I'm wrong? If this isn't just some lucid dream, if I'm not in some type of coma, what if dying meant dying? Would it hurt? Of course, it would. I was going to die in the hunger games after all.

I swallowed around the lump that formed in my throat as Katniss's words came back to me, why was I here? I knew I could run; I've always known that, the only question was my survival outside of the district. But what good would running do me? I wouldn't find any answers; I wouldn't be saving anyone or helping anyone.

I'd be alone.

Again.

No. I thought shaking my head as I slipped through the fencing, I wouldn't run I couldn't run, lifting my face to the sun that shined brightly despite the gloomy day it actually was I spoke aloud.

"It's time."

I couldn't help but to stare at my reflection, it was strangely fitting that the only dress in my bag looked like a funeral dress.

The dress itself was stunning, the black material clung to my body in all the right places and the lacey V-neck and sleeves made my silver heart locket stand out. It was a beautiful dress. Exhaling slowly, I lifted a hand to touch my locket, I never took it off after my mother had passed in down to me and now more than ever, I could feel the weight of it.

It was the only thing that held any importance of my past life that I would be able to take with me, I wouldn't be able to bring my clothes, my journals or my father's knife.

A locket would be all I had.

I had decided not to worry about the Mocking-Jay's pin, it held significance for Katniss being a symbol of home and even though my symbol of home wouldn't mean anything to the rebels it would mean everything to me.

Dropping my hand, I turned as Amya appeared at the bathroom doorway, "you look beautiful." she whispered caught up in the dress like I had been moments ago. Smiling softly I turned to look at Amya, she was a pretty petite girl with blonde hair that she left down to sway around her shoulders, the dress she wore was an old one with more patches then the original material to it. Still, the dress didn't make the girl.

"So do you," I smiled back noticing how her lips turned down into a scowl as she took in her own raggedy dress.

"I'm dressed in a rag." Amya stated scornfully not seeing her own beauty, "You're wearing capitol clothing, all your clothing is nicer than ours." Frowning I shook my head.

"It's not capitol clothing," I stated but my comment did little to lighten the mood, "and it isn't the dress that makes you beautiful." I stated watching as her frown turned into a small smile and her cheeks tinted pink, laughing lightly I shook my head again.

Smiling at one of the girls I'd found myself having become so fond of I told her, "think of it this way, when I grow out of them, you're the next in line to get them." Silently adding to myself that it would be a lot sooner than later seeing as I wouldn't get to wear any of my clothing again after today.

"You ready?" I asked changing the subject, the younger girl simply shrugged and made her way out of the bathroom. Frowning I watched her go, as I stared silently at the space she had once filled in the door way I couldn't help but to feel my stomach twist in its knot that it always seemed to be in, the reaping was the least of my concerns what really made me worry was the uncertainty I had about their fate when the district would be bombed.

Closing my eyes, I forced myself to exhale and breathe evenly, there wasn't anything I could do about that now. It was more than a year away.

I need to focus.

I mentally scolded myself, getting worked up over things I couldn't control wouldn't help me staying in control of the next twenty-four hours, now would it. Making my way out of the bathroom I go to meet Amya at the door, to see everyone there waiting.

Even Diara has come back to walk with us, our foster mother Ms. Elm stands waiting, she's never made any attempt to get to know me I don't think she really knows any of the girls she fosters, she just takes us in and forces us to take out a tesserae so we all have a year's supply of grain and oil. Other than that, she's only here because it's mandatory that everyone go, just like it was for the victory tour.

After a brief exchange to make sure everyone was ready to go, we were off.

Walking through the square felt wrong.

It was a place that was normally bustling with everyday shoppers and now it was packed full with every person that lived in the district and despite the bright colored banners that were strung up, the place didn't hold any cheer.

No, everyone was tense with worry and the camera crews did little to help the matter as they displayed a growing reflection of the crowd of kids between the ages of twelve to eighteen on the big screen up front.

A reminder that anyone of them could be reaped.

Amya and I head off to the sign in line, the others stand in the back where all of the families that are either too young or old were, they all will watch and wait to see if their loved ones will be safe for another year.

Amya stands in front of me, the line keeps moving at a steady pace as we stand in silence. I assume it's the fear that has her tongue. There are two lines, one for girls and another for the boys, I don't see anyone else I recognize though I know somewhere in the crowd are Prim Everdeen and Peeta Mellark the two that will win the lottery so to speak.

I frown as we keep moving forward. Looking ahead of us I can see the sections that have been divided up with rope, girls to the left and boy to the right the oldest in the front, the young ones towards the back. I wonder why the divide it up that way, perhaps it's easier to make sure no one tries to flee after being reaped.

Soon Amya has gone and it's my turn, they take my name and check me off on a list then I'm instructed to keep moving. I walk down the center isle like everyone else who has filed in and head to where the sixteen-year-old girls are.

I'm sixteen now, which meant my name was entered into the glass bowl six times five for my age and one for the tesserae that I had taken out. Not that it mattered, I knew I was going in regardless of the amount of entries.

I take my place in line, I've set myself apart keeping close to the isle to make it easier for when I would volunteer, a few girls come to fill the gap I've left. My eyes land on the stage set up in front of the justice building, the one where Cray first took me on my arrival day.

There is a podium set up in front, on either side are the glass balls that hold the slips of paper with the districts children's names written on them, beyond that are three chairs. One if for our Mayor, Madge's father I've never actually interacted with either one never having a reason to. The other chair belonging to Effie Trinket, she's wearing a green spring suit and has her hair done up in curls. It's pink and white, and I can't imagine what the appeal is. I think it's a wig. But I can't remember to be completely sure.

The last chair is empty, something I believe the Mayor and Effie were just discussing because they've looked over to it the same time I had.

I know who should be sitting there, everyone does. Haymitch Abernathy, the districts only living victor the man I had gone to in hopes he'd be some help. I suppose he was, not much but at least now I can say I've held a sword not that I'm sure if I was wielding it properly or if my form was correct when doing so. But at least I had tried to learn.

The Mayor has gotten up to take his place at the podium he's starting a speech, he talks about the history of Panem and when he mentions that the land had once been called North America I have to swallow the lump back from my throat.

The mention of my home almost makes me consider time travel, but as he goes on talking about its destruction, I have to force myself to remember that I've read this series and it is in no way real. He talks about the 'Dark Day' what the districts revolted against the capitol, footage of what district thirteen looked like after the bombing though they claim it still looks that way.

I'm relieved when I see Haymitch, despite the fact he is drunk and staggering all over the place, he's trying to give Effie a hug which she narrowly avoids.

I laugh, I'm probably the only one to find it funny a few disapproving looks are shot my way. Not that I care as I watch Haymitch slump down in his chair, the Mayor is introducing Effie now in hopes to get things going again after Haymitch's arrival.

I'm smiling, I realize I shouldn't be.

Today is a day of mourning, a day of fear and I'm smiling. I try to hide it knowing that I must look like an insensitive witch.

Effie strides up to the podium with an extra douse of pep in her step, I think she was simply happy to escape Haymitch. It's a wig. I realize as she begins her speech with a "Happy hunger games! And may the odds ever be in your favor!" it's at this moment I like Haymitch more than Effie, I try to remind myself that it's the capitol not really Effie that I don't like but it doesn't do much good as my expression darkens.

She's talking about how much of an honor being here is, as I search the crowd looking for a familiar face.

I find one.

He's mad at me, I realize not hiding the frown that claims my lips as Peeta catches my eye, our gaze lock on each other, his eyes are so full of emotions that I can't begin to decipher at this distance but it doesn't matter because it only lasts a second as he pulls his gaze away to listen to what Effie is prattling on about.

I know he can't really be interested in what she is saying, after all it's probably the same thing he hears every year before being forced to say goodbye to two members of the district, possibly two friends.

He's mad because he knows I'm going, he's mad because I wouldn't change my mind when he asked me to. If only he knew. I swallow back the guilt as I look back to Effie who has turned to make her way to the girl's glass bowl.

My stomach tenses and twists with nerves, it's time for the drawing.

It's time for me to volunteer.