My shoulder aches when I wake up. I must have slept on it wrong. Or maybe not. It could just be the cave. I sit up, still tired. This is how I wake up most mornings. You can never get enough sleep when you're sleeping on a cave floor.

I realize something strange when I sit up. I smell fresh bread. Now, there are the rare days when Slade brings by bread, but that's usually stale. This bread is fresh. I run over to the other end of the tiny, crescent shaped cave, the waves lapping at my feet. I pick up the warm bread and realize that this is good quality bread. Straight from the baker's shop by the look and smell of it. I pick it up and take a small bite. Mmm. It tastes even better than it looks.

Living in a cave, I usually don't get much food other than raw fish. You don't want to know what it tastes like. I used to have a nice house, nice food. But that all changed the day of the shipwreck. I live in District Four, the fishing district. There aren't a lot of ship wrecks, seeing that there are tons of experienced fishermen in District Four, but it does happen. This was a particularly nasty case in which an elderly light house keeper fell asleep on the job. Several fishing boats crashed into the rocks, killing hundreds of people. Including both my parents and my brother. I was the only one left in my family, with no grandparents and aunts and uncles who wouldn't accept me. But I knew I couldn't let the government find me. They would take me to a group home, and I couldn't live with that. Instead, I lived in our tiny house alone, living off the little bit of money my family had left. But when that ran out, I couldn't take care of the home, and the government sold it. So I was left to find a home of my own.

I tried a million places. Mostly alleyways, but people always found me there, threatening to take me to a group home. So I was determined to find a place where I could stay. The result was this tiny, crescent shaped cave. It was the only place I could find. I swore to never return to the cove where the ships crashed, a place I used to often swim. So I found this tiny sea-side cave instead. I've never had a problem with animals in here, so I've trusted it to be a safe place. I think of all of this as I eat the tiny loaf of bread.

I let the waves lap over my bare feet as I nibble on the bread. I wonder how today's events will go. Which families with make it through the day perfectly sane. Which families will be worrying about how they plan to survive the following weeks. Today is reaping day, and two kids from District 4 will be leaving us, probably forever. I haven't gone to the reaping ever since my family died. The government never came after me for it. Perhaps they had forgotten about me. Most people had.

I was just the starving girl in the cave. The girl who had nothing left to live for. Well, I wouldn't say nothing. That was how it used to be. But one day, my little miracle had come.

So, I'm the girl in the cave with almost nothing to live for. I am only fifteen years old. No one thought much of me. But the few times I've walked around in the city, I've heard people talk about me before, not realizing that the little, smiling girl they used to know was standing right next to them.

I hear that I was a beautiful little girl once. Not anymore. Now I'm the bone thin teenager who's practically dying in a cave. But no one cares about that, other than one person.

And I assume that one person is the reason I have fresh bread right now. Because no one else who is sane would come near this cave. They all think I'm a mad lunatic. So how am I alive at this point? It's a long story.

I don't hear him approach behind me, but I can see his reflection in the rippling water. Slade. The reason I'm alive right now.

I turn around and look into his eyes. But not for the reason one would think. I'm looking in them to see their color. His eyes always seem to look the same color as the sea, so sometimes they're more green than blue, other days it's vice versa. I've even seen them have a gray tint to them on stormy days. Today they're gray and very sad.

He's always sad on reaping day. He has a good reason to be. This time five years ago, his older sister was reaped and put into the Hunger Games. She made it down to the final two, but was killed by a vicious tribute from District 1. Slade has never told me how she died. He doesn't like thinking about it. But from what I've heard, it wasn't pretty.

So how did he meet me? Well, apparently when the tribute from 1 was crowned victor, Slade couldn't bear to watch it anymore. He began a sad life, living with just his parents. His father had always been cruel and his mother was still mourning their loss. Slade began looking for something to fill the hole in his life that had been created the moment his sister was killed in the Games. He didn't mean to find me, of course. He had been out fishing to earn some extra money and he came across my cave. From his facial expression, he had recognized me as the girl in the cave there were rumors about. But he didn't appear worried. He just asked what I was doing in there, and I had to explain everything. But he started to visit me sometimes, and eventually brought me a little food. And that was how I had been managing to live for the last four years. I was eleven then. He was twelve.

But this is the first time I have gotten warm bread, I thought to myself as I take another bite. After a minute, Slade sits down. "Hey Annabelle." I can tell that he's sadder than he's letting on. But there isn't much I can do to comfort him.

"Want a bite," I finally ask him, offering him a piece of the bread.

"No, I'm not hungry."

That was his only response. Most of the reaping days since I met him have been similar to this one. Very little conversation. I usually find myself thinking sad thoughts. Maybe it's just the sad atmosphere, or maybe it's just the time my brain has to think without the two of us talking. Today I wonder why he even bothers to hang out with me, or bring me any food. Surely it doesn't give any benefit to him. Wasting his food on me. That's how I know how much he desperately needs a friend. There's no other reason that he would waste his time giving me anything. The thought begins to bother me.

"You don't have to do it you know," I say.

"What?"

"Bring me food. It's sort of a waste on your part," I admit.

He shakes his head. "It's not a waste."

"Sure it is. I mean, I can't repay you with anything, can I?"

"I don't need to be repaid. But you certainly need food, don't you?"

"Yeah," I admit. "But it's not your job to give it to me."

"You're not going to get it otherwise."

I wonder whether or not this is true. I mean, I managed on my own for about a year after the ship wreck before Slade found me. Of course, most of that food either came from the trash or was raw fish.

"I could find it myself," I tell him after thinking about it.

"And what state would you be in? Probably dying for sickness at this point." Slade sighs. "No offense or anything, but you're not in the best shape at the moment, and that would be a whole lot worse if you were still eating trash."

I look down, knowing that it's probably true. I feel ashamed at the thought, too. How vulnerable I am to the world! I rely on other people for everything. Shame is the only thing I feel right now. I know Slade didn't mean to make me upset, though. He's just having an awful day, trying to fight back memories he doesn't want to return.

"I guess so," I say. "But I still feel bad about it."

"There's nothing you can do to stop it," Slade says.

I decide to just drop the conversation. I don't want to make Slade sadder than he already is. It wouldn't be right. Not after all he's been through. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to talk either. That is the reason I don't talk, at least that's what I'm trying to tell myself. But deep down I know that I don't want to admit that Slade is right, and I can't deny it. I would probably be dead right now if it weren't from him.

I'm not exactly the type of person who would like to admit that to anyone. I hate the feeling of having to rely on others, which is really a problem in my case. But what can I do to stop it? I admit to myself that there's nothing that I can do to stop it. So I may as well stop grumbling about it. I wonder if I should try talking again. The eerie silence doesn't feel right, and I know I need something to distract my mind. But no one is in the mood to talk today. So I decide to just let time tick by, the time of the reaping looming closer and closer.

I nibble aimlessly on the tiny loaf of bread until I have finished it. That probably wasn't the best idea, because who knows when I'll have more food? Oh, well. It's too late now.

After a long silence, Slade finally stands up. "You should come to the reaping," he suggests. Me, at the reaping? "I… don't think that's possible," I tell him. "Sure it is. I'll be right back; I need to get something out of the boat." I nod and Slade goes to get whatever he needs out of his boat. He comes back in the cave with a small bag in his hand. To my surprise, he hands it to me. I open it and gasp. Inside I find a knee-length pink dress and a matching hair ribbon. "It used to be my mom's," Slade admits. "It's probably too big, but you'll manage." I'm at a loss for words. "Oh, um… thanks," I manage. He grins. "No problem. But since you don't have an excuse not to go, I expect to see you at the reaping later." Then he leaves without a word. I decide I better hurry if I'm going to get to the center square in time for the reaping.

I try not to think of how odd I must look as I make my way to the edge of town. Now, there are a few things you should probably know about District Four. People always think that people in Career Districts always live the good life, and that's probably true in 1 and 2, but not as much in 4. The wealthy people, the Peacekeepers, live in luxury because they don't have to worry about being abused by other Peacekeepers, but the rest of the District's people have to live in fear of what could happen if they get on the Peacekeepers' bad side. Most of the District's people do get away with a pretty nice life, but not as perfect as one from another district would think it is. See, no one is actually allowed to eat the fish they catch unless they pay for it, or if it's too rotten, small, and injured to sell. So there's always a night or two every once in a while where a family is stuck eating bad fish. And, most of the time, it smells like fish everywhere you go. Not the most pleasant smell.

So, whenever anyone sees pictures of District Four, it's usually of the seafront, where all the shops are painted bright colors and everything looks nice and clean. But that's not where I'm headed today.

I duck into a public restroom to change, not the most pleasant place, but pretty much my only option at the moment. When I come out, I'm presentable enough, though not perfect. Now I have to head to the public square, where for the first time ever since the year of that horrible shipwreck, I'll get to witness two tributes, one boy and one girl, have their names pulled out of the reaping ball and stuck into the Hunger Games.

I can't help but wonder how much Slade's family must despise this day. I don't know how they even manage to make it to the reaping without having some sort of mental breakdown after what happened to their last child. The Capitol is a cruel, cruel place. But there's nothing anyone can do to stop it.

I slowly make my way into the public square, which is packed with thousands of people. I don't remember it being this crowded, but I haven't been here in such a long time, it doesn't surprise me. Honestly, I haven't been anywhere in a long time. I probably would get lost in the city if it weren't for the bustling crowds, who were all making their way to one destination.

I see Slade on my way to a group of fifteen-year-olds. He manages to give me a quick wink before being herded off in the crowd with the other kids his age. As I stare around at the other fifteen-year-olds, I can't help but ask myself if one of them will be this year's tribute. I guess we'll find out.

The crowd goes silent as the mayor steps up to the podium that sits in the center of the large stage in front of the Justice Building. He begins to tell the tale of a country called Panem, that rose out of the ashes of a nation once called North America. He probably knows that no one is listening to him, but it is required that he read the speech anyway. By the end of his long lecture about the rebellion that lead to the Hunger Games, many people are bored. Most are relieved when he finishes the speech and begins reading the list of past Hunger Games victors.

I am paying little attention as he reads them off the list, one by one. Since District Four is technically considered a Career District, the list is pretty long. Of course, it can't be nearly as long as the list of District 1 and 2 victors. Those kids are trained to kill from the day they can walk.

Two of the more recent Hunger Games victors from District Four step up onto the stage. One, a girl, appears to be a little under thirty years old, so it probably wasn't too long ago that she won these games herself. The next, the male, follows her. He appears to be a bit older than the woman, but definitely under the age of forty. They shake hands with the mayor and then take their seats in the two chairs on the stage that are set out for them.

The mayor then introduces the District Four escort, a woman named Zia Oleander. She is an over-enthusiastic woman who is now wearing a raspberry colored suit and whose bright yellow hair is up in a beehive style. She is truly frightening to look at, as most of the Capitol citizens are.

After a brief speech that no one is paying attention to, she announces, "Ladies first," like all the other escorts say when they are about to draw the girl's names at the reaping. I feel a pang of dread for whoever is put into these awful games. But when the girl tribute's name is read out, I no longer feel any remorse for anyone. It's myself that I fear for. Because Zia Oleander has clearly read the name Annabelle Fay into the microphone.