Don't own the Hunger Games universe. Just Lillianne! Please Review, guys! :D

District One enjoyed the Hunger Games just as much as the Capitol. The excited buzz in the air made this all too unbearable. I had seen how the poorer districts behaved at the Reaping. They were much less excited than we were, and I could definitely understand. I was afraid. Not as much for myself, but for any tribute. Sure, we bred Career tributes - its honestly no secret, even I had been trained a bit - but other kids weren't.

I realized I really didn't like these games officially during the 74th Hunger Games. Shallow, I know. However, I didn't always think it was amazing. As I grew up, I realized how inhumane this game was. It was when little Rue from district 11 died a gruesome death that I grew disgusted. I started to see that the people around me really disliked me for being President Snow's granddaughter. I was talked about in school and in town. My family was not to be taken seriously. We were Capitol folk.

And I hated it too.

I looked forward to see the line had moved significantly farther than when I had first arrived. I sighed. Another worst kept secret from District 1 was the fact that my sister Juniper and I were exempt from the Reaping. Even now that Juniper was out of the Reaping pool, she still got dirty looks. I choose to ignore the talk, letting June blow up in her own room. It takes another few minutes, but I reach the sign-in table. Two new Peacekeepers look up at me, first staring, then breaking into haughty smiles.

"Well, well, well!" The one on the right cries, "If it isn't our only exception!"

I roll my eyes, giving him my District ID. The one on the left takes it and scans it. "Now, now, Manny," He replied, "We don't want Miss Snow to tell her father we're bullying her."

He gives me back my pass and the one on the right laughs. "On the 16 year old platform, princess."

I smile mockingly, nodding my head. "Thanks."

As I walk away, one of those Peacekeepers whistled at me, but being the lady I was, I ignored it. It was crowded, as usual, but very well organized. The largest crowd of children would be the twelve year olds, and the numbers decrease by age. My group is the same its been since I started the 12 year old circuit. I already know I'm not getting reaped, as do others, but as to not raise suspicion to surrounding districts and to just comply with the rules. A peacekeeper opens the velvet rope for my clearance, and nods as I step into the 16 year old platform. I join in the back, between a quiet girl with fiery red hair and dark rimmed glasses and a taller girl with jet black hair, peering over the crowd before us. She seemed anxious to begin, as her constant tip-toeing and neck stretching implied. I kept to myself, looking around at the masses forming. It wasn't even twenty minutes to the Reaping and almost everyone was here. I wrung my hands together nervously, feeling the tension and escapement in the air. Suddenly, I was bumped harshly from behind. I apologized to the person I pushed in front of me, then turned to see who attacked me. I scowled.

"Here to await fake judgement again, Princess?"

Beside me stands the bane of my existence. He is six feet and two inches tall, has untamed auburn hair, and creepy green eyes that mock me everyday of my life. He makes it his mission to humiliate me, to degrade me, and to make everyone hate me even more. This boy has pushed me, thrown stuff at me, pranked me, and has gotten me in trouble with Peacekeepers since I began schooling in District 1. His name was Demetrius Florence.

"Leave me alone, Demetrius."

I turn away from him, only to meet his face again, in front of me. I wasn't going to be let go easily, especially since it was Reaping day. Even though I had learned to tune him out at every chance he had to dig into me, he really just liked to bother me.

"Wonder if you'll be reaped this year?" He sarcastically inquires. I don't answer. He presses on. "You know, if you really want to feel useful around here, why don't you volunteer for the girl tribute this year? No one's done it for years."

Again, my mind swats his words away like an annoying fly. He laughs.

"Capitol people. They'll never understand."

"It's you brutes that don't understand," I grumble angrily. He laughs at me again, putting his arm around me.

"Us brutes are the ones that keep you Capitol people entertained," He responds. I push myself away from him, stepping backwards. He wipes his hand on his khaki slacks. He opened his mouth to retaliate to my actions, but the crackle of the mic scares us both, averting our gazes to the stage. Before it, a woman with dark skin and frizzed black hair tamed in an olive green headpiece tests the sound. After the 'one-twos', her face erupts into a smile, and she scurries closer to the microphone. Her golden dress gives her the effect of scurrying, as it encloses her two legs together. I shake my head.

The woman is Cornelia Right, our escort to the Hunger Games for the past few years. She is known to be extremely happy and ridiculously sarcastic. Everyone in District 1 loves her.

Well, almost everyone.

She clears her throat. "Welcome! Today, one fine young man and one courageous young woman will be chosen to represent District 1 in the 76th Annual Hunger Games!" The crowd cheers and woops, matching Cornelia's vibrancy in voice. She takes in the energy. "Yes! But before we choose our tributes and ask for volunteers, your wonderful Mayor Wanderlust Snow will say the traditional speech!"

The crowd claps less enthusiastically, but cheers nonetheless. My father walks onto the podium, and our eyes meet. I give him a weak smile. He begins.

Knowing exactly what this speech consists of, I let my eyes wander away from my father and to my family atop the stage. Juniper watches my father, taking in every word he says, and is at the edge of her seat. The story on how the Hunger Games comes to be fascinates her, and never gets tired of it. Beside her, my mother watches as well, only nodding quietly. For a shoe designer, she wasn't very Capitolized. I wouldn't believe she was from the Capitol if I had seen her in the crowd of District 1. She was so normal….so conservative.

And it was this very same conservative nature that I had inherited. Mother was the one who didn't like us watching the Hunger Games. She was the one who didn't like us to wear Capitol fashions. She was the one who wanted to keep us home from school when she realized we were the gossip of the town.

I hated that I was so much like her.

When my father finishes his speech, I clap absently, returning my view to Cornelia as she struts to the microphone once more and the two crystal balls containing the names of every 12-18 year old in the district are wheeled in. My heart skips a bit, and then I realize I have nothing to worry about. Later tonight, I'll be in my blue pajamas sitting beside Juniper in her room, covered in blankets and watching the Reapings from district to district. I calm myself down as the excitement around me builds.

"Now without further adieu," She exuberantly tells the crowd, "It is time to pick our tributes!" Another cheer comes and goes, and I look around me to see some kids with their fingers crossed. Really? They were so anxious to be picked to die?

"Ladies first!" She cries, and walks over the the bowl on her right, filled with papers taped together with pink tape. I press my lips together as she fishes around the bowl for ten seconds. Everyone is really at the edge of their toes, anticipating the moment Cornelia pulls out a name. She eventually does with a quick flick of her wrist, and the ominous paper in her hand gives me chills. Even while I don't approve of the games, I do admit that it is a very strange spectacle.

Cornelia reaches the microphone and squeals in delight as she waves the unopened paper in her hand around. "So exciting!" She cries, and the crowd quietly agrees. After what seems like forever, Cornelia's small fingers tug at the tape and undoes it without looking, smiling the whole time. It is when she looks at the name that she does a double take and stares, her smile disappearing into disbelief.

After a few moments, the crowd murmurs nervously. Cornelia rereads her paper slip, checks the back, and then looks at the crowd, laughing nervously. "I- I'm sorry." She regains her composure, to some extent, then takes a deep breath.

"L-Lillianne Snow."

My heart stops. The crowd silences. One thousand stares come towards me, and I look around them, confused. It is when Demetrius pushes me forward that I look into his clearly pleased eyes. It takes me seconds to realize what has happened, and my eyes widen.

I've been reaped. I've been reaped into the 76th Annual Hunger Games.

The girl with no entries has been reaped.