"Willow Mellark."

Of course it was.

A gasp ripples through the crowd behind me, followed up by my brother beginning to scream hysterically. It was hard to ignore him. I was devoted to Rye; he was my little shadow. His company was a constant, a rare glimmer of escape from my doomed, hopeless life. I was going into the Games, odds were that I would be killed. Even if I do survive, the Capitol will make the remainder of my life a living hell. A web of danger and threats and punishment. Maybe it would be better if I die in the Games, would save myself a lot of misery. But I wouldn't. I was going to win this thing or at least go down fighting.

Keeping my chin up and eyes front, as I'd been taught, I took my place upon the stage. I kept my eyes from wandering to any family that was hidden in the crowd. They were all here. Mum, Dad, Rye, my grandparents, my uncles Yestin and Ryen, Aunty Prim and Rory, everyone. And somewhere was Haymitch Abernathy, my godfather and now my mentor. My parents had been forbidden from mentoring me and he was the only living victor aside from them. Great.

"Wyatt Brame." Effie Trinket called the male tribute of 12.

I knew him. Wyatt was in the year above at school. He was a quiet kid, not like the other jerks who thought they were God's gift. He belonged to the bottom steps of the social ladder. Not that I gave a damn about that. I was somewhere in that region too. Often picked on by the school jocks, he was introverted, timid and reticent. Wyatt Brame was one of a lucky few who were merchants. He had floppy dark brown hair and matching dark eyes. He was around medium height but was as thin as a stick. He was the eldest of his siblings so, unfortunately for him, no one was likely to volunteer for him. I had been hoping for someone I didn't know at all, but still, it could be worse. You could guarantee that every slip in the female reaping ball has my name on it but in the male, five slips had the name of my only friend, Robin Caverly, written on them. He was safe for another year, so having Wyatt drawn is the best I could have hoped for really.

As I think of Robin, I move to another. Finn Odair. My true friend. If there's one person that can understand my crazy, messed-up world, it's Finn. As the son of the legendary victor, Finnick Odair, he could comprehend the main aspects of my life and knew exactly what I was all about. Of course, he lived hundreds of miles away and I had only seen him in person around five or six times, but we keep in touch. By phone, by mail, by whichever way was feasible at the time. Finn was eighteen, two years my elder, and had somehow avoided the Games for six years. I wondered if his luck would hold. I severely doubted it. The Capitol people would never pass up on Finn's entertainment potential. For them, both of us in the Hunger Games would be a Christmas come early. I had made an unspoken promise to my family. I will come home, but the Capitol could think again if they thought I would harm Finn.

I resurface and shake hands with Wyatt, although we do not meet each other's eyes. We're ushered into the Justice Building and I'm locked in a plush sitting room. It kind of reminded me of the summerhouse we have at home. I have little time to reminisce because a few minutes later, my first visitors arrive. Rye dives at me, clinging to me tightly like a baby monkey. My parents watch on wordlessly. After observing the sight of my mother's hollow eyes and my father's heartbroken face, I silently swear to never get into this situation. No matter what the cost. I pull my brother's skinny body into mine, holding him as close as possible

"It's alright. I'm not letting you go." I murmur to Rye, stroking his soft black hair. I hang on to every touch in the case they're my last.

"Promise me. Promise you'll come home, Willow." he chokes out finally, his hot tears falling onto the shoulder of my dress.

"I promise." I whisper, pressing my forehead against his.

I blink rapidly, clearing the waiting tears from eyes. No crying, absolutely not. I wasn't heartless; there will be a whole host of cameras waiting for me when I leave for the train. I will not give the Capitol the satisfaction. Plus, tears could pretty much guarantee you a weakling status and that certainly would not be on Haymitch's agenda. In fact, it wasn't on mine. My opponents should know to fear me if they should.

I slowly push Rye from my lap onto the velvet sofa. I rise, my eyes fixed on my parents. I stand before them, squaring my shoulders firmly.

"We don't have much time." I tell them, my voice surprisingly steady. "Whether I live or die, you make sure this doesn't happen to him. I don't care what it takes or how you do it, start a rebellion if you have to. But I won't watch him stand for the reaping next year."

"Don't look at me like I'm already dead. I mean it. I will win and I will come home!" I snap, tears threatening to spill over.

My dad pulls me into his arms but I don't cry. I've never broken any promises. I breathe in his scent of smoke, rosemary and fresh air, savouring its soft familiarity. If there was anywhere I could feel safe it was here. I genuinely thought that my dad was perfect. He was sweet, kind, strong, gentle, steady and clever. As a child, I had hero-worshipped him and trailed him everywhere he went. I loved my mother too but Dad and I just seemed to have much stronger bond. If I could have had a normal life and reached marrying age, I would have wanted to find someone like my dad. Someone who loved and accepted me for what I was, the way my dad with my mum.

Pulling away, albeit reluctantly, I went to my mother. I had inherited Dad's height and I was already the same height as my Mum. She embraced me instantly, running her fingers through my hair. Nothing had gone unsaid between me and Dad but it wasn't that way with Mum. She had more to say.

Breaking our hold on each other, she leaned away from me. She puts her hand on my cheek gently.

"You can do this. I know you can. Find a bow, if they don't have one, you make one. I've shown you before. Remember everything I've taught you, listen to what Haymitch tells you. He got himself and us out of that arena. He knows what he's doing."

"I will."

"If Finn is in there, Hope, you ally with him. You can survive alone but allies, particularly allies you know and trust, are always a good thing. But remember, no matter who they are, they are all your enemies. Only one can survive and you're in it to win it."

I didn't want to think about that. Like I said before, I would never harm Finn. I couldn't harm Finn. At times, he was the one thing that kept me from going insane and clocking out on the world. But when it came down to the facts, my mother could not be more correct. Only one tribute would leave the arena alive and, for Rye's sake, I wanted it to be me. My parents' victory was a fluke and would never happen again. Not after Seneca Crane had been executed for his troubles.

"Here." she says, going in her pocket. She fixes the mockingjay pin on the strap of my dress. The one she wore in her Hunger Games. "For luck."

"Thank you." I whisper, throwing myself back into her arms. She cries then, her tears drip onto my bare shoulder.

"Time's up." the peacekeeper outside orders emotionally, opening the door.

"No!" Rye yelped, lunging across from his perch to grip onto me like a vice.

"I have to go, Rye." I tell him, trying to free myself from his clutches.

"No, you can't! Don't leave me alone." he begged.

"As long as my heart is beating, you'll never be alone." I say vehemently, grasping his wrists.

The split second of stillness was all it needed. Dad seized Rye by the waist and dragged him out, yelling and screaming like a feral cat.

"I love you, Rye-" I was cut off by the harsh slam of the door.

I collapsed back on the velvet chair, feeling emotionally and physically drained. And there was more to come. My parents had just been the beginning of an onslaught of horrible goodbyes. My grandparents, Aunty Prim, Uncles Rory, Yestin and Ryen, Haymitch and Robin perhaps.

It was exactly what I had expected. The family listed above, apart from Haymitch, all came to say their farewells. If only it were that, just a simple farewell. What it was truly was a series of heart-wrenching partings, accompanied by tears and loss and guilt. Even my grandmother, Dad's side, stepped into fashion of those who came before her.

If I had felt empty before, it had nothing on what I felt now. I could not summon the energy to move a toe. My heart was sore and my head ached. For once, I thought of nothing, enjoying the blankness of my mind. Not that it lasted long. The world soon came crashing back down on me.

Robin burst through the door like a man possessed.

I had known Robin Caverly since my first day in school. I was not a popular child in school. I wasn't targeted like poor Wyatt but our social positions were very similar. I was not unsociable, I just had no interest in my fellow pupils. That's pretty much why Robin and I had hit it off so well. He had the exact same mindset. We did everything together in school, we were partners for everything and we sat together at lunchtimes and classes. We talked of course but we had drawn the line at normal social interaction. He didn't pry into my life and I didn't pry into his. That worked just fine for me. I had done my level best not to drag anyone into my screwed-up little world. That way, no one got hurt. Finn was exempted from this rule because his life was just as difficult and punishing as my own. My relationship with Robin was very different from the one I shared with Finn, but he was still my companion and I cared a great deal about him.

Robin could be called handsome, I suppose. He wasn't exceptionally muscular but he had a strong, steady frame. Unlike most others of his generation, he did not resemble the Seam's custom appearance. He had smooth cream skin, auburn hair that never lay flat and watery green eyes. His hair had been slicked back especially for reaping day and he wore a spotless white top with ironed grey trousers.

Without saying a word, I threw myself into his outstretched arms. Although he wasn't exceptionally tall, my head came up just below his broad shoulders. He held me close to him, his comforting warm radiating into me. I bury into his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent of soap, earth and embers from a dying fire.

"I'm okay." I say, my voice muffled by the fabric.

"No you're not." he replies hollowly, cupping the back of my head in his big hands.

"Okay, I've been better." I admit, pulling away from him.

"You can do this, Willow. You're strong, you're fast, you're smart."

"The Careers? I'm as strong as a feather against them." I sighed, shaking my sweep fringe from my eye.

"You can hunt."

"Animals can't fight back, humans can."

"Listen to what you're saying, Willow. You're talking like you have already resigned yourself, and the Hope I know would never give up. She'd want to come. To her home, her family, her brother, her friend."

"I am coming home, Robin. Believe it."

"I do believe it."

"Good, because soon enough we'll be back in history classes together."

"God, save us."

We laughed, trying to forget the looming Games that stretched out before me. Referring to our ancient teacher was just a small ploy to try and alter the feel of the conversation. Not that it would ever work, Robin could see right through the façade and so could I. We say nothing else but soon enough, a Peacekeeper arrives for Robin.

"Keep an eye on Rye?" I ask nervously.

"Of course."

And he's gone. I am coming home so I will see him again but I wonder whether it will ever be the same as it was before.