HOLY CRUDCAKES. You guys are amazing, and I cannot believe the response I've gotten for this story. It just shocks me. :o You are all amazing and inspire me to keep posting as often as I try to. c: I LOVE YOU ALL. (Not trying to be creepy there. c;)

SunWillRise2340-Thank you so much! I really appreciate you reviewing. It means so much to me.

HeartArcFantasy21-Thank you! I shall, and yes, it does. c:

Guest-Thank you so much! I'm glad that things didn't turn out too cliche. I'm so glad that I made you feel nice by replying to your review; I know how nice it feels when someone replies to anything of that nature. To be honest, you gave me that exact same feeling when I saw both of your reviews. cx And I'd absolutely love that, but don't feel pressured to do it for every chapter if you don't feel like it. I understand how caustic it can feel to have to review every chapter.


Anastasia clicked the remote, the bright lights of the Capitol filling the television screen.

The Capitol's symbol filled the screen while an upbeat tune played in the background. Caesar Flickerman's face flashed on the television, showing that this year's color of choice were many hues of blue. His hair was a dark navy color, while his eyeshadow was a remarkable shade of sky blue.

"Welcome, Panem, to the footage of the Reapings for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!" His teeth literally sparkled in the spotlight as he smiled his fake grin, perfected over the years.

He named the districts, starting with District 1. Both of their tributes were volunteers, which was not a surprise. I watched District 2 intently, the male tribute catching my eye. He was a volunteer around my age; 16. You could tell he was pre-trained by his muscular figure and arrogant walk, but I couldn't help but stare into his icy blue eyes as they met the camera. The girl was a traditional tribute; reaped. She was small, but had an intimidating, snarky feeling about her. She gave the camera a smirk, her dark eyes flashing with something I couldn't place.

I watched through the rest of the Reapings up until it was District 7's. I saw my face as my name was called, and it was how I intended it to be; no reaction and with a sharp edge in my eyes. I couldn't help but frown as I saw my hands shake, despite the tensing of my muscles. Shit. I didn't want to be seen as an easy target. Keane was called, and he walked forward with what some would call a "swagger walk". My frown became deeper when the camera caught the look of distrust that we sent each other before staring into the audience.

I grimaced at how our Reaping was, making the awkward tensions even more prominent than they were in actuality.

I zoned out through the show up until District 11, criticizing every chink in my armor that showed during my Reaping. Despite my attempts to cover it up, my vulnerabilities still peeked through slightly.

I felt an unwelcome sense of despair as I saw the female District 11 tribute, who was no older than twelve. I was immediately reminded of Bree, where I was too selfish to even attempt volunteering for her, just as this girl's family was for her. Her name was Rue. Her district partner emanated a sense of protectiveness over the little girl, treating her like family would.

The ache from District 11's Reaping was pushed over the limit when another twelve year old was Reaped in District 12. She had that same tremble that my sister did as she stepped closer to the stage. A girl who could only be her sister screamed her name, shoving everyone out of her way. "I volunteer!" I felt a strange feeling in my chest as she hugged her sister before another teenage boy took the girl away. The screams of protest from the little girl echoed around my head. I immediately felt respect for the teenage girl who bravely volunteered in her sister's place. I was once again reminded of the fact that I could have saved my sister from the horrible fate she suffered.

A blonde boy was the girl, Katniss', partner.

The clip ended, leaving the Capitol citizens anxious for the parade. I snuck a glance at Johanna and Blight, who looked alert and intense. They both looked at us and then each other, nodding simultaneously.


I sat on the plush bed, staring at the artificial projection of the night sky on the ceiling. Bree probably sat here two years ago, doing the exact same thing I am; reliving her past and thinking of every thing she regretted. I needed to accept the fact that I may not ever see the people from my district again, as much as I hated it.

I kept thinking about all of the tributes that I saw on the television, and, as unhealthy as it was, thinking about all the possible ways they could kill me. Bludgeon me to death, stab me or shove a sword through my abdomen, shoot an arrow through my skull, throw a spear at me, snap my neck... And then natural causes; hypothermia, starvation, mutts, natural disasters formulated by the gamemakers, fire...

My thoughts dissipated as I fell into the cold embrace of slumber.


I squeezed my eyes shut as my stylists waxed the hair that had begun to develop over my skin. As I opened my eyes, I snuck at glance at my two stylists, Hestia and Maylissa. Hestia's was shining with a gold shimmer that had been dusted all over her skin and had false eyelashes submerged in glitter. Her curls were piled on top of her head in what was initially supposed to be a bun, but turned into a rat's nest. Maylissa had pale lavender eyes and had purple eye shadow extending over her brow. Similar to Hestia, Maylissa had tangled hair preserved in a bun.

They ran conditioning creams through my hair, leaving it silky; a dramatic difference from it's dry, tangled state before. I shoved Maylissa away as she came to moisturize my face, unused to the close physical contact.

"All I'm doing is cleaning and moisturizing your face. There's no need to be rude." She whined in a high pitched, nasally voice. I shot a cold glare at her as she turned away from me, going to get a clear bottle of some sort of polish, along with some foreign metal instruments. They scraped the dried dirt from under my nails, coating them with a clear varnish after shaping them.

They finished "beautifying" me, leaving me in a robe. I sat on the cold metal table, shivering slightly from the chilly air. I wondered about the stylist, remembering the ridiculous tree costumes that District 7 had worn in years past. I was hoping it would be toned down a smidgen; I was not particularly crazy about have branches growing out of my head.

My head snapped up, seeing a man walk into the room.

Oh, God. This is going to be horrific.

The only normal thing about his was his eyes, which were a warm hazel. My couldn't help but widen my eyes at his appearance; Not in fear, but in shock. His hair had been dyed a deep green and was short-cropped. He was obviously trying to achieve the perfectly-messy appearance, but failed greatly. His hair was just a hot mess. I breathed a small sigh of relief when I noticed his lack of makeup, an unusual sight for a Capitol citizen. He had a metallic, rose gold suit with a plain black tie.

He gave me a strange look as I stared at him. I shook my head, forcing myself to remove my attention from my thoughts of his ridiculous image.

"Stand up." He commanded. In all honesty, I had no other choice but to listen to him. I stood, and he walked around me, examining my body. Thankfully, he let me keep my robe on. I would not have been comfortable being half-nude in front of him. He nodded to himself, mumbling softly. I hesitantly looked at him, weary of his ideas for my parade outfit. He gave me one of those insane Capitol grins and sent me back to Hestia and Maylissa.


I glared at the ground in front of the chariot, blatantly ignoring Keane. I was not particularly thrilled about how my costume turned out. I was adorned in a hideous dress made out of a material mimicking that of moss. My hair was down, leaving my side swept bangs hanging in my face. Leaves were integrated throughout my hair, matching the disgusting green glitter on my eyes. Keane was dressed very similar, but his outfit showed off his muscled torso. I rolled my eyes as he puffed out his chest, trying to seem much more tough than he actually is.

I scanned the rest of the tributes, seeing if any of their costumes were near as bad as ours were. I chuckled when I realized that we weren't as screwed compared to the other tributes, especially the ones from District 5 and 10 (Who's costume just so happened to be a cow suit.). My eyes hesitated on District 2's gladiator costumes, and I couldn't help but stare at the boy's muscles. His costume showed them off perfectly... Brigid, get a hold of yourself! You don't need to be ogling your enemy... I stared into his icy blue eyes, moving my gaze immediately when he caught it. I avoided his eye as I stepped closer to the chariot, leaning against the wooden frame. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, seeing him smirking and laughing with his district partner. I mentally berated myself for staring at him; Now he probably thinks that you think he's hot. And above all, he's from the same district those boys were in when they killed your sister! I felt a fountain of shame wash over me. How dare I think that a person from the same origin as my sister's murderers is attractive?

I walked over to the chestnut brown horses, patting them on the neck. There were never many horses in District 7; Mainly deer and bears, but I do remember an occasional coyote. I saw Keane residing alone in the corner, picking at his nails as if these games were just a rogue branch in the forest. I resumed staring at the dirt blankly, trying to form an identity during my first "interaction" with the other tributes.

I sighed as the horn rang, signaling for the tributes to get onto the chariots. The doors opened, the tribute parade beginning. I gripped the side of the chariot as it rolled out along the concrete path designated for the presentation.

I looked, awestruck, at the screen in front of me showing the District 12 tributes. They were on fire. Literally. The citizens screamed out their names, which they took the time to find in the program. There goes any possible sponsors. I moved my line of sight in front of me, staring out at the Capitol. It didn't matter if I made a mistake; they wouldn't pay any attention to District 7 with District 12 entrancing the audience with their fire.

I felt a twinge of jealousy; not only about their stylist's talents, but about the decreased chance of my survival in the games. But again, if nobody remembers me, I could hide in the arena until there's a few people left, and then start killing them off.

I was reminded slightly of Johanna's strategy, where she pretended to be a weakling when she truly was a cold-blooded killer. I couldn't pretend to be weak; I would feel puny and seem like an easy target from the beginning. If I'm going to do this then I need to appear strong, even if it might put a target on me from the Careers.

President Snow stood behind the podium, welcoming the beginning of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.


I'm glad she was finally able to "meet" Cato in this chapter. The next few chapters will consist of training, where more drama will go on. cx I'm sorry if my writing isn't very good here. I was up a bit late writing this.