"Finn Odair."

So close, yet so far.

This was my final year of reaping. I had survived for six years but today, in my final year, my luck had run out. I was to face the 91st Hunger Games.

The turn of events had sent my mother spiralling into hysteria and no one, not even my father, could bring her out of it. My mother was a victor too, but she wasn't all there. Her district partner had been beheaded right before her eyes. Perhaps a stronger person could have coped but Annie Cresta lost it. She ran and hid from her competition. Then the arena flooded. She won because she was the only one left that could swim. A part of Annie Cresta was left behind in that arena, never to be recovered.

My father's victory was far more impressive. He did not join with the Careers like most of us did. After working his way into the people's hearts with his looks and charm, he was gifted with a trident. It was probably the most expensive gift given. The other tributes stood no chance after that. My father had a special talent with tridents, which he had passed on to me. Using a net, he snared the remaining tributes and speared them all. He was crowned the victor of the 65th Hunger Games at age fourteen. My mother won the Games five years after my dad. They had been close friends before the Games had even become a part of it and Dad suspected that my mother's reaping had been orchestrated to get at him.

They couldn't really touch my father when he first won, but as soon as he turned sixteen years old, he was forced into prostitution with Capitol clients. When I was born it stopped, but unfortunately for me, if I won the Hunger Games I would probably end up the same way.

Maris Meyer had been drawn out as the female tribute. I knew her. She was very high up in the hierarchy of school. There's nothing I hated more than a silly, shallow, show off like Maris. I couldn't deny she was pretty. She had tanned skin, white-blonde hair and sea green eyes and the other boys chased her like hounds after a fox. Pathetic. As far as I knew, she had no skills that would assist her in the Games and with her weak, preening attitude, she stood no chance at all.

Here I was, standing at the gates of a slaughter house, and I was daydreaming. Willow would have laughed at me. Perhaps she will yet; she was up for reaping today, the daughter of the 'star-crossed lovers of District 12'. Not that everyone here in the districts had bought into it. Willow, like me, had made it this far; she was sixteen years old, unreaped for five years. Somehow I doubted that would continue. She understood me because the lives we led were so similar. She was the only person who could fully comprehend the features of my life. No one knew her like I did, not even her parents, although she'd inherited a considerable amount from them. She had curly ash-blonde hair that flowed down her back like golden ink. She was tall for her age but was short on me. Willow was slender and elegant, with graceful curves silhouetting her shape. Her eyes always caught me though. Big, and as blue as polished sapphires, they mirrored her nature. Gentle, sweet, friendly yet enigmatic and bright. Willow had no reason to be all those things. She could be a miserable, tragic ruin and no one could blame her for it. Her life was harder than mine and I had no idea how I would cope if I was in her position. She had a core of steel.

Turning to face her, I offered my hand to Maris. She took it and shook, a smile pulling at her thin lips. She wouldn't be getting one back. Perhaps she thought I would protect her whole-heartedly in there. I would help her, but if Willow was in there then she was on her own.

My mother was still screaming. The other people gathered grimaced at the noise; not in irritation but pity. They knew all along that I would end up this way. Me too, people, me too. They escort me off into the Justice Building and lock me up in one of their holding rooms. I didn't have any other family except from my parents. My mother's parents died before I was born. My dad was born an orphan; his mother died giving birth to him and his father either didn't know about him or didn't care. Mags had been like a grandmother to me, but she passed on a few years ago. I didn't really have any friends, so this would be an extremely short visiting period.

"Finn, my Finn." my mother wails, clinging to me and rocking like a child herself.

"I'll be alright, Mum. I'll come home to you and we can all be happy together." I tell her, putting my arms around her bony shoulders.

"Do you promise me, Finny?"

"I promise."

I wrench my mother's hands from my wrists and go to see my father. He puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close to him.

"Oh, Finn." he says hoarsely.

"Don't. We all knew it was going to happen." I grip his shoulder. "Tell me, tell me how to survive."

"You're a handsome boy, Finn, use it to your advantage. It'll get you a lot further than you think. For training, do not use the tridents that they'll lay on for you. Save it for the private examination and you'll get a better score, so more sponsors. I suspect that Willow Mellark would have be drawn today, too. Allies are always a good thing, especially ones you can trust a bit more. Get your mentor to team with hers and you and she will do well together." he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck frantically. "Just remember; only one person is getting out of that arena alive, Finn."

I think of Willow again. If it came down to just me and her, could I actually kill her? The answer is never. I could never hurt her. She'd have to kill me herself, if she was reaped.

My parents sit with me until my time is up. They have to drag Annie from the room, screaming. The last thing I see of my family is my father's last glance at me.