Okay, here is my first try at a Hunger Games Fanfiction. I have my own people and all. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Chapter 1: I'm picked

"Cecilia, you need to get your dress on." my mother called for the billionth time. I reluctantly got out of my warm bed I was laying in and instinctively went into the kitchen. My mother handed me a heavy dress, which was probably the one I wore last year. I wasn't growing much over the years…

Let's start with the basics. My name is Cecilia Emerson. I'm 15 years old. I have dark brown hair and pale blue eyes. I'm 5'1'' and weigh 115 pounds, not that you need to know that. Oh, and I'm blind. It's been that way since I was born. I've learned to deal with it, I mean, you can't really miss what you never had, can you? I could never see. I don't know what colors look like. I don't know what humans look like.

"Put it on. I may need to help you with the straps." my mother said. She's very kind and hardworking, but strict at times. My two sisters and I try to stress her out as little as possible. She does a lot for us.

Anyway, as you can probably tell, today was the day of the reapings. I only put my name in once, since my mom didn't want to risk us having even more of a chance of being drawn.

I went to the bathroom and put on my dress. Yes, I did get the straps on by myself. I walked out of the bathroom, feeling weighed down.

'Oh, she got her straps on by herself.' my mom thought. Oh, did I tell you I could read minds? I guess not. I've never told anyone, just in case they might send me to the capitol to be tested on or something. Besides, when would that come up in a conversation? 'Hey, mom, I never told you this, but for my whole life I was able to read minds!' I'd say. She'd think I'm crazy. Send me to some school for psychos.

As for how I can read minds, I've been thinking about that for the longest time and the only conclusion I have is that since I can't see, my hearing is so advanced that I can hear into peoples' minds. I don't know… it's the most logical explanation I've came up with. Another explanation is that I'm an alien and my mother kidnapped me from my real parents. But that's just stupid. When I thought of that, I was just having some fun.

"Come on, Cecilia. Anne and Marie are waiting." my mom said. I headed for the door. When I got out of the house, I felt a slight breeze. Other than that, it was warm.

My sister, Anne, is 12 years old. This will be her first year participating in the reapings. My other sister, Marie, is ten years old. My father died two years ago. We knew it was coming, he was horribly sick. But I hate to look back at it. He was too good to die.

Anne took my hand and said, "I'm scared."

"Don't be." I said, hugging her. "Your name is only in the reapings once. It's little chance that they pick it out." And if they do pick it out, I'll volunteer. I didn't say that, though.

"What if one of my friends are picked?" she asked. "Uvin's name is in it 18 times!"

"You have smart friends. They'd get out alive without having to kill anyone." I assured her. She didn't look too convinced. "Look, don't worry. You won't be picked." I said.

"And what if you're picked?" she asked. Then I guess I'm screwed. I didn't say that, either.

"I have just as much of a chance as anyone." She stayed silent. I remembered the first reapings where I qualified. Anne was eight and Marie was six. I was so worried and I just knew my name was going to be drawn. I was in tears when it wasn't me. I was too relieved to feel bad for the girl that actually got picked. She died, of course. We haven't had a victor since the 17th Hunger Games. That was 25 years ago. He's the only victor we've ever had. His name is Vince Kemmling. He's one of the only sane victors alive right now. There's just one problem with him, though. He is extremely rude. It's probably why we haven't had a victor since he became one. I don't think I've ever heard of him giving supplies to his tributes nor give them good advice.

Well, when we got there, my sisters and I were separated. Anne was in the very back while Marie was with my mother, right behind her with all the other adults and children too young to be in the Games.

There were three chairs up on the stadium. They were always occupied. Mayer Temin, Vince Kemmling, and Mandy Christer were sitting in the seats. They always started it out like that. Mandy Christer was District 7's escort. She was a bit cheery, like everyone else from the capitol. My family would always describe to me what she was wearing when we would rewatch the reapings. One year she would be wearing a glittering fluffed up dress, another she would be painted completely blue. I don't know what was wrong with these capitol people. They're weird.

Anyway, I heard her get up, thinking 'here we go!' She tapped the microphone, causing everyone to hold their ears. Most of them were one step ahead of her and held them the second she got up. Including me. She does it every year.

"Can everyone hear me all right?" She asked, knowing very clear that everyone could hear her. I could already feel the tension in the air. Half these people wished she would just depart from this life- she was definitely old enough to.

I felt eyes staring at me. It was most likely my best friend. Maylee is in the 16 year old section. She is in the same grade as me, it's just that her birthday is always a moth before the games, while mine is about three months after. So she's always in front of me. I looked at her.

'She doesn't look as nervous as last year. And how does she know where I am? She always knows where I am, even when she is blind.' Maylee thought. She thinks that a lot. I haven't even told her I could read minds. So I just smiled at her and reverted my eyes back to the stadium.

"The Hunger Games," Mandy's voice boomed through the microphone. She repeated this at every Hunger Games. It was actually the mayor's job to do it, but his voice had failed him years ago. She continued. "is a time for repentance and thanks." She repeats the history of Panem. She explains the Dark Days and how the capitol made peace. She went into detail of the Hunger Games' rules and why we have them each year. Then she ended the speech by saying, "Let us draw! Ladies first!"

She stuck her hand (I don't know what color it is, but I'm sure Anne will tell me when we rewatch the reapings) and she takes out a slip. She slowly opens it, making the tension even worse, and said a name.

My name.

"Cecilia Emerson."

Er… reviews would be great.

Just saying.