Chase Strata POV

It took me months to be able to afford the brass lighthouse necklace. By then, it was obvious my mother wasn't going to get better. It would be something she could wear in her coffin. But she'd always wanted to see a lighthouse, and before long her dream bled over into me. I worked overtime for hours in the dark mine passages to get her that little sliver of light.

My mother loved it when I sang to her. It was the only way to give her enough strength to eat. I tried to get as much into her as I could before I had to leave. It was hard for me to keep my voice strong as I thought about what came next. It was hard enough to watch my mother dying more every day. The medicine I needed to get for her only slowed things down, and the thought of getting it made me feel faint.

The apothecary's owner wasn't the problem. Mr. Lawrence was a really nice guy. It was his son that terrified us all. There was something wrong with that boy. Half the people who visited the apothecary only needed to because of him. The only reason he wasn't in jail was because he was too smart to give the Peacekeepers any trouble.

I didn't want to go. It was my deepest shame, but every time Mother's prescription ran out, I fantasized about finding her dead right before I left. She wouldn't be sick anymore, and I wouldn't have to face him again. One day it would come true, and I'd never forgive myself.

Not going wasn't an option. I had to do anything I could for my mother, no matter how scared I was. I couldn't speak as I left her bedside and started out the door. I didn't want him to see me afraid, but there was no hiding it.

The apothecary was empty when I reached it. My breath shuddered in relief as I darted inside and opened the drawer that always housed my mother's pills. I listened for any sound of someone coming and ran outside the building without even shutting the door as soon as I had the bottle.

"Thief!"

I knew it had to be him. Mr. Lawrence knew me from my many previous visits, and everyone else around had seen me as well. Without looking back, I started to sprint away from the building. He didn't actually think I was a thief. He just wanted an excuse for what he was about to do. My only chance was to get to somewhere people could see me.

I lurched forward as something hit the back of my shoulder. I almost fell, but I knew he'd be on me if I stopped for even a second. I ran through the pain and didn't stop until I was outside the door to my house.

Before I went in, I pulled the arrow from my shoulder. We weren't allowed weapons in Twelve, and that saved me from a far more serious wound. The boy's bow must have been handmade, and it wasn't strong enough to send the arrow very deep into my shoulder. It was hard to move my arm, but it wasn't bleeding profusely. I bandaged it and put Mother's pills by her bed.

"What's that?" she asked when she saw the bandage. I pulled my shirt over it.

"I just tripped on the way," I told her. My shoulder throbbed, but what I had to give her made the pain seem unimportant.

"I got you something," I said. I pulled the necklace from my pocket by its chain. She gasped when she saw it, and her eyes lit up for the first time in weeks.

"Now we've both seen one," I said. When her fingers were too weak to put it on, I helped her clasp it. Everything I'd been worrying about faded away, and everything was right.

Peach Unk POV

The one good thing about Twelve was that the Peacekeepers hated it as much as we did. None of them wanted to be here. It was an embarrassing assignment reserved for those of them who'd messed up their last job or pissed off their superiors. They didn't care about any of us and they didn't care about what happened. They left us alone unless we gave them trouble, and as a result, we had more freedom than any other District. My father, however, had something to say about that.

"Where have you been? You come home in the middle of the night after doing who knows what while I sit at home worrying," he said when I came back in one night. I rolled my eyes.

"What do you care? I'm not getting into trouble. I do my homework and mind my own business. Why can't you mind yours?" I asked.

"Maybe I don't want a tramp for a daughter," he said.

"Maybe I don't want a Peacekeeper for a father," I said back. Really, I more of shouted it back, but he was shouting first. We must have woken my little sister, since she came up behind him and tugged at his pants, crying.

"Shut up!" my father yelled. He whirled around and raised his hand, evidently not realizing it was his daughter he was about to hit and not an errant dog. I darted around to get in his way and ended up taking the blow. My sister started to wail and my father looked at both of us with shock and fled into his room.

I slept curled up with my sister that night, trying to comfort her.

"Everything's about to get better. Tomorrow I'm going to go off and make a better life for us. We won't be poor and Dad won't be so angry anymore," I told her. I didn't tell her tomorrow was Reaping Day.

The next day, Demi reaped the boys first. She called up Chase Strata. I didn't know him, or at least I didn't think I did. It was hard to tell under all the soot. He swayed as he stood onstage, and he hardly seemed to know what was going on.

No one expected a volunteer. That was one reason I did it. I'd always been drawn toward whatever people didn't want me to do, and it got me in trouble as much as would be expected. I enjoyed the shock that went through the crowd as I walked up next to Chase.

I noticed an odd smell when I got upstage. I gagged when I realized it was Chase. His arm was red and swollen, and something green was oozing under the skin. It was no wonder he seemed so spacey. He looked like he was already rotting.

Demi was on the other side of him, so she couldn't see the damage. When she stepped between us to present us, she took hold of his bad arm. Chase whimpered and fell to his knees as she yanked it up. Demi's microphone picked up her gasp as she dropped it and stepped back. I saw her eyes fill with tears. I didn't think any of the Capitolites cared about us. Before she could ask me, I scurried behind Chase and raised his good arm up with mine.

Seeing Chase gave me a new perspective on my actions. I was focused on living my own life, and here he was just trying not to die. I volunteered for this, and he was going into a deathmatch already half dead. I'd been terribly hasty, and I hoped I was right. If I wasn't, it was too late for me.