Bera Meher's POV

"Brani Steph Mehar!" I screamed at my 15 year old sister. I was staring at a completely destroyed kitchen. Food flung everywhere, plates broken. I handed her a mop. "You will clean this up before the Reaping!"

"You're not the boss of me!" Brani sang, skipping around the room.

I felt my face burning, a volcano bubbling up inside me. I tried taking deep breaths, counting. Usually it worked. This time it didn't.

"BRANI STEPH MEHAR!" I hollered at the top of my lungs. "I will tell mom and dad!"

"I. Don't. CARE!"

I gave in, and quickly tidied the room. She'd get in trouble later. I was putting the last plate shards in the can when the door opened. Mom and dad coming home from a night shift at the textile factory.

"Bera?"

"In the kitchen, Mom!" I exclaimed, getting coffee ready. I gave it to her as she sat down.

"We're going to the counselor again after the Reaping," She told me, pushing a brown strand out of her face.

The counselor. I happen to like June Pray, but her ways can also be extreme. I was diagnosed with depression a few years ago, but I don't really mind it. I became much kinder from it, and I feel like it makes me who I am.

"Okay, mom," I responded. "I'll go change."

I walked to my room, and opened the door. I slipped into the navy blue cocktail dress, white tights, and sky blue flats. I clipped a blue barrette into my shoulder-length brown hair, and twisted the fishtail bracelet on my wrist.

"Hey mom, it's about time to leave," I announced walking into the kitchen.

"Alright, go ahead Bera," Mom sighed. "We'll be there soon."

I slipped out the door, into the cool air.

"Aw, if it isn't Mother Bear!" I heard a mocking voice behind me. I let a curse slip out of my mouth, and turned.

"Aw, if it isn't The Goon Squad!" I mocked back.

The Goon Squad was a group of completely obnoxious boys from school. They bully me, but these days it doesn't go to heart. Even though I show this, they keep it up. Their "leader", Sean Bradley, snickered.

"Oh! Did you come from teaching embroidery lessons?" He asked.

"As a matter of fact," I snapped. "I teach embroidery on schooldays in the afternoon! Not on holidays in the morning!"

"Yeah, okay," Sean's right-hand-man Ranvir Spearman laughed.

"Shut up, Ranvir," Ranvir's twin brother, Harvard, scolded, whacking him in the back of the head.

Soon enough, a fight broke out, and I escaped. Not today, Goons. I managed to slip in line before they could catch sight of me again, and let the Peacekeeper take my blood without thinking. As I walked through the square, and noticed my mom and dad near the edge. I waved at them, and mom waved back, dad giving me a salute. Smiling to myself, I let myself drown in the sea known as 17 year old girl section, and waited for the bells to toll.

They did soon enough. Our escort walked on stage, a rather old woman with dyed crimson curls and old, gray eyes. We've had her as an escort since the games began. Everyone in the district knows her name, Nadine Scholar.

"Welcome to the District 8 Reaping!" Nadine exclaimed into the mic, her voice slightly scratchy. She walked over to the girl's Reaping ball. "And the female tribute for District 8 is..."

Earlier that day

Hades Underwood's POV

I dropped a pebble onto the wooden floor, which echoed in the silent house. I banged my head against the wall, frustrated. I was angry at everything. But most of all, there's this girl named Jenny Thompson. The fire started at her mother's station.

The Fire.

Most call it The Great Depression of District 8. I call it The Day My Life Was Ruined. Almost everyone got out safe when the fire spread. Almost everyone. Almost. Three didn't make it out alive. Jenny's mom, and my parents. The only family I have left is my Aunt Coral and Uncle Rain, but they live in District 4. They promised me they'd come make sure I was alright. It's been six months. They haven't come.

I'm starting to wonder if they remember me at all. I stared at the blinding sun through the window, and stood up. I reminded myself that skipping the Reaping is punishable by death. Then I thought, who cares? Then I thought, I know what to do.

I scrambled down the stairs, into the basement I had moved my room to after The Day My Life Was Ruined. I quickly changed into a dark suit, and tried to flatten my spiky brown hair, to no avail.

I raced through the streets, knowing I was running late.

"Hey! I'm here!" I called to the Peacekeeper before she left her post at the sign in.

Even though she was startled, she signed me in, and the bells tolled. I heard the escort begin to speak as I slipped into the 14 square.

"And the female tribute for District 8 is," Nadine began. "Bera Mether!"

My eyes loomed to a girl with average height and an average build walking out of the 17 square. Her face was scrunched up, like she was about to cry. But she didn't. She was brave. I'm not.

"And the male tribute is-"

"I volunteer as tribute," I hollered glumly. I walked up to the stage, and Nadine gave me the mic. "Hades Underwood," I spoke before I handed the mic back.

I already had a plan in my head. The perfect strategy for the game I wanted to play. If you can call it a strategy at all.

Justice Building

Bera Mether's POV

I rocked back and forth in a ball on the couch. I had succeeded in not crying during the Reaping, but I doubted I could hold it in now. I was starting to sniff as the door opened.

"Bera, come here," Mom tried to smiled, extending her arms.

"Mom!" I jumped up, and wrapped my arms around her. I let the tears flow.

Dad stroked my hair, whispering that it was going to be alright. Brani wasn't here. Ha, like I care. That brat can see what happens when I'm not around to clean up her messes. The thought cheered me up a bit. A bit.

"Mom," I began, letting myself make eye contact. "I'll be okay, but what about you? You'd lose your head if it wasn't attatched to you body!"

Mom laughed at that, and her laughing made me laugh, and dad seeing me laugh made him laugh. "I'll find a way," my mom assured me. She gave me one last squeeze, before she was escorted out by the Peacekeeper.

One more-or should I say three more-visitor came. I recognized them easily. They were the Xiong triplets, my first students.

"I don't like you leaving!" Marina exclaimed, tugging her blond braid. "I liked your lessons."

"Me too!" Virginia chirped, her black curls resting on her shoulders. "But I also feel horrible for you!"

"I know!" Annabeth moaned, her frizzy black hair settling over her face. "I don't know-" blows hair out of her face, "What I would do-" blows hair out of her face, "If you died."

"Don't worry guys! I'll try my best!" I beamed at them, and we had a group hug before the peacemaker whisked them away.

Then I thought, what would happen if I came back in a box? I don't want to know the answer.