"Blake? Hey, Blake? Are you up?"

I scowled at the ceiling, unable to ignore the infuriating teenage girl kicking the underneath of my top bunk bed. Of course I was up. I hadn't slept properly in two years.

Eva's head suddenly popped up beside my bed, and her face split into a wicked grin when she noticed my eyes were open. "Morning, sunshine," she grinned.

"Is it?" I sighed heavily, rolling over on my side and turning my back to her.

She snorted darkly, prodding my spine. "Come on. If we go now, we'll be back before anyone ever knew we were gone."

I really didn't want to move, but I knew she was right. It was still dark out, and most of the Peacekeepers would still be sleeping. Those who were up had bigger things on their minds than a few orphan kids sneaking out of the grotty care centre. No one ever cared what we did. It's not like anyone was here to miss us if we were gone.

No, I thought sourly. Because my parents evicted me from an entire District.

"Oh come on, Blake!" Eva hissed, prodding me again and jumping down softly. "Get a move on. Erik will be waiting!"

Taking a deep breath, I kicked away the itchy blankets covering my bed and jumped off the side with a soft thump. Eva was already dressed in old jeans, a slim shirt and an jacket, her caramel skin shining in the moonlight and her black hair braided back strictly. Winking at me once, she snatched a hidden rucksack from underneath the bed and slipped out of the room silently, leaving me to get dressed.

My shoulders sagged wryly as I moved, an effect of the care home here. Too long inside, and I started to feel claustrophobic and trapped, a feeling I had begun to accept in the past few months. The only thing that kept me going was the outings with Eva and Erik, something I would have never dared to do back in District 4.

I shook the thoughts away, regarding myself in the old, dirty mirror that stood on the far side of the room. Thinking about that place wasn't going to help me any, and I'd learnt long ago that people reacted better to foul moods if you masked them with sarcasm and a smirk. It was easy to mistake the furious glint in my ocean-blue eyes for humour, and that the arrogant smirk tugging at my lips wasn't restraining a snarl. And I was good at wearing the disguise. Not even my parents back in 4 ever really understood what I was feeling. Sometimes, if I did it long enough, I could even convince myself.

Dragging on a pair of slim fitting trousers, a black tank top and an old brown leather jacket, I wrapped my dark brunette hair into a bun at the top of my neck and took a deep breath. Though I'd tried my best to fit in with the other kids in this District, I still bore trademark signs of a healthier upbringing. My cheeks weren't as hollow, and my body was slim and lithe, not skin and bone. Even the way I held myself - with more confidence and life - was different here. Here, the Peacekeepers were harsher and more brutal. All hope and happiness had been drained from this place, and it was something I had had to force myself to get used to.

Grabbing my bag and creeping out of the room, I made a conscious effort to avoid creaking floorboards and slipped down the corridor as quietly as possible. I cast a brief glance around to make sure no one was watching, I took the stairs hurriedly and moved down another dark, dusty corridor until I reached the kitchen at the back of the building.

"You took your time," Erik scolded in a quiet, gruff voice, nudging Eva who'd been peering through the window to make sure the coast was clear. The two looked very similar, though since they were twins, I guessed it made sense. Erik was taller by about a foot, with the same caramel skin and short black hair, wearing scruffy trousers, boots that were falling apart, and a black shirt beneath an old knit jumper.

Eva grinned at us over her shoulder. "We're clear. You guys ready, or we going to stay here?"

I couldn't help groaning with a roll of my eyes. "How did you have so much energy this early in the morning?" I moaned, winking deliberately in Erik's direction while she wasn't looking. His lips tugged at the sides slightly.

"She's just that determined to annoy us," he answered simply, earning him a glower from his sister.

"Can we just go?" she insisted. "I'd like to eat sometime today!"

Since neither of us could argue otherwise, we adjusted our bags on our shoulders and followed her out of the door. Technically, the doors were supposed to be locked, but since all the locks were incredibly old, it was easy to pick it open.

We crept through the District, toward the outside of town, where a large gap had been made in the fence that separated us from the rest of the world. It was supposed to be electrified, but it very rarely, if ever, was. On occasion, we'd decide it just wasn't worth the chance, but today, it didn't seem to matter.

Today was the day of the Reaping.

I couldn't help letting my mind drift to that topic as Eva, Erik and I trampled through the dry, waist high fields that surrounded District 11. Over seventy years ago, the country we lived in, Panem, had been made up of thirteen Districts and the Capitol. But District 13 grew fed up with the harsh rule of the Capitol and led a rebellion, known as the Dark Days, against the Capitol. Ultimately, it led to their complete annihilation, and now District 13 was nothing more than a wasteland.

The Capitol also sought to punish the remaining twelve Districts for taking part in the rebellion, leading to the creation of the Hunger Games. Each year, two children from each of the twelve Districts - one boy and one girl aged between twelve and eighteen years old - were offered as tributes in the Games. They were selected at the Reaping, where all the name of eligible candidates were put in two separate bowls for males and females, and one from each was selected. These Tributes were then taken from their Districts, trained for a week and paraded in front of the citizens of the Capitol, then forced into an arena where they had to fight to the death. Twenty four Tributes went in, and one Victor came out. The Victor was awarded extra food rations and money for their family, as well as being allowed to live in the Victor's Village - the wealthiest part of the District - and their names would never be entered for the Games again.

The Games were made even more unfair by the way they were played. For example, Districts 1, 2 and 4, the wealthiest Districts in Panem, were known as the 'Career' Districts, because children there actually trained their whole lives and volunteered themselves, seeing victory in the Games as a form of glory. On the other hand, Districts 12 and 11 were the poorest in Panem, and none of the children were physically fit enough to stand much of chance. This was made worse by the concept of tesserae. Children were allowed to enter their names in the Reaping more times in exchange of a small supple of grain and oil for their families, most of whom depended on this to get through the year without starving.

This year it was the 72nd Hunger Games, and District 11 was waiting with baited breath for it all to be over. It wasn't felt quite as strongly in the care centre - if an orphan was offered up as a Tribute, it was almost a relief to the rest of the District. At least that way no one was left to feel the pain afterward.

At seventeen years old, I'd been entered in the Games twenty-one times. At eighteen, Eva and Erik had both been entered twenty-eight times. Honestly, I sometimes wondered if the others in the District were right. It might be better if one of us were taken rather than one of the other kids with families to care for.

Finally, the three of us reached a wooded area that surrounded a reasonably small lake area. Eva stretched out with a wide yawn and grinned again. "Let's get started, shall we?"

The three of us split up, with Erik setting up a fire by the lake and Eva and I setting up traps in the wood to catch a few rabbits to eat. I gratefully left the pleasant company of the twins, letting my expression fall the moment I was out of sight, pulling my jacket around my upper body tighter and shifting through the fallen leaves as quietly as I could. Setting traps for game was quite easy, but it still took a while. Steady hands were essential, unless you wanted to lose your fingers.

About an hour and a half later, after I'd set up four traps in the surrounding woodland, I straightened out, pleased with my own work, and turned back toward the camp by the lake. Erik was lay flat on his back, scowling at the brightening sky thoughtfully. The sight made me hesitate. I knew that look. That was the look that meant he was thinking about the Hunger Games.

"Blake!" Eva's voice came from behind him, and I spun in surprise. She frowned, patting my shoulder. "Hey, you alright?"

"Sure," I grimaced. "Fine."

She grinned at me. "Come on then. Might as well make ourselves comfortable, ey?" The two of us moved across the clearing and slumped down onto the grass beside Erik, who hurriedly shook away his scowl and propped himself up.

"All set?" he clarified. Eva and I nodded our confirmation at him, and he seemed to relax slightly at the thought of a decent meal. Eva looked the same. I, on the other hand, accepted that this was better than the pathetic excuse of a meal we'd receive at the care centre, but also knew my last decent meal had been the last I ate in District 4. The thought of the place made me shiver, but I found I couldn't shake it away now I had nothing more to do.

I'd never told Erik and Eva where I was really from. As far as they were concerned, I was from a house outside the town where my parents had died. They had no idea that a Peacekeeper had snuck me out of District 4 two years ago, the day before the Reaping for the 70th Hunger Games. I'd never known why exactly I'd been taken out, but the timing . . . the thought it had had something to do with the Hunger Games made me sick to the stomach. I'd seen the poor girl, Annie Cresta, they'd chosen that year. She'd been driven insane when she watched her partner beheaded. After that, she hid away from the other Tributes until an earthquake broke a dam and flooded the arena. Since she was the best swimmer - being from the fishing District 4 - she won. As far as I knew, she was still unstable.

In some respects, I missed District 4 with a passion. It was warm, sunny, and I spent most of my days teaching younger kids to swim. I had friends at the school, I ate better, dressed better, and I had parents who cared if I didn't return home at the right time, or if I snuck out in the morning. In other respects, I hated the very thought of it. My parents had banished me, without bothering to explain why. I wasn't sure I'd ever manage to make myself look at them if ever the opportunity arose.

The worst part of it all was the thought I was bound to get caught. One day, someone was bound to realise that the Blake Hart who'd magically appeared in District 11 looked remarkably similar to the Blake Lockart that disappeared from District 4. How my parents had explained my absence from the Reaping that year, I wasn't sure.

Eva's foot suddenly appeared out of nowhere and kicked my shin sharply. I blinked, shaking the thoughts away. "Earth to Blake," she scolded. "Honestly, what is with you this morning?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "Just thinking about the Games," I replied as casually as I could, leaning back on my palms.

Erik winced sharply. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," he dismissed uncertainly. "I mean, there are kids out there with more entries than us, right? Those that have to take tesserae?"

Eva said nothing, but I nodded slowly. "I suppose," I sighed. "Still, don't you think . . . you know, it'd be easier if it was one of us?"

The two turned to me sharply. "What?" Erik choked. "What do you mean?"

I felt my cheeks flush. "The other kids all have families to care for," I pointed out quietly. "Us . . . no one's going to miss us if we're gone, right?"

Eva scoffed weakly, avoiding my gaze. "Thanks, Blake," she muttered.

"You know what I meant," I scowled. "Just . . . I can't help thinking that I don't exactly have parents that will mourn if I die, do I?" Again, neither of them said anything, but I knew they were thinking the same as me. Only, they were terrified to admit it.

The rest of the morning didn't improve. The small bits of meat we'd managed to catch were enough to make a small, unappetising breakfast, with some left over to trade with on the black market. Since neither of the twins were comfortable trading behind the backs of the Peacekeepers, I collected the meat as usual and bid the two of them goodbye, making my own way back to the District.

The sun had long since risen in the sky, but since most of the District wasn't working, no one was in a rush to get out of bed. Still, there was a reasonable crowd in the Town Centre, and the black market was as busy as ever. Despite the fact it was illegal, almost everyone used it. My lips pursed, I moved through the market and traded my catches as quickly as possible, keeping my head down, my hood up and avoiding conversation. Luckily, hardly anyone ever recognised the orphans from the centre.

It was on my way back through the centre of town that I ran into my first problem of the day.

A small crowd was beginning to gather in the town centre. Being just as curious as the other spectators, I skirted through the masses until I could see what was going on. In the middle, two boys were arguing with the Head Peacekeeper, Paula Riley. She was tall and remarkably skinny, even for District 11, yet she was known for her brutality. Her face was taunt, her eyes were empty and she was as cold hearted as the Capitol itself.

Both boys had olive skin and dark hair with hazel eyes, but the one at the back was shorter and skinnier, while the guy stood between them was stronger and sterner. The shorter one looked ill, obviously terrified to the core, and the stronger one was frowning, his fists clenched as he forced himself to remain on the spot.

If I was being honest, I recognised the taller one. Almost every girl in the District knew Trey Forge. He was probably the best looking guy in the District, not that he ever seemed to notice. He had very little time for anyone who wasn't family, most notably his younger brother, Layton, known for his lack of bravery. I figured that was who was cowering behind him. If it was, he certainly didn't have his brother's looks.

The Head Peacekeeper was glowering at Trey when I managed to elbow my way to the front. "Move out of my way, Mr Forge," she warned in quiet, dangerous voice. "My problem is not with you."

Trey didn't budge. "I can't do that," he replied.

Her jaw locked irritably, and I physically flinched for him. Everyone knew what happened with Riley got angry. "I'm giving you one last chance, Forge," she said through gritted teeth. "Out of my way."

"No," he snarled back.

Without another word, she brought her hand - equipped with a large, golden ring - right across his cheek. The dull thud it made caused the crowd to gasp loudly, but Trey didn't make a sound, his face contorted with pain as blood trailed down his face from the large gash torn right across his cheek.

Behind him, Layton made an undignified choking sound, and a small, high-pitched yelp sounded from the distance. I spun, stunned as a little girl no more than eight years old pushed past people's legs to get into the middle of the square. She staggered forward on small legs and flung her arms around Trey's limp body.

Riley looked as though she was about to explode in anger. Her eyes flashed, her jaw locked and her fists clenched at her sides. All I saw was her hand flinched backward, and in the time it took me to taking a ragged breath, my feet were skidding forward.

"Stop," I breathed, wide-eyed as I stopped in front of the girl, but at this point, Riley looked murderous. Her expression demented in anger, she back-handed me as hard as possible, and my neck cracked loudly as her ring tore through my hood and the first few layers of skin, the force making me stagger back a step and cower away from her. The pain burned everywhere from my shoulder blades up, and my eyes stung with hot tears. Despite all of that, stubbornness shot through me and I felt myself straightening out, glaring back at her.

"How DARE YOU!" she yelled at me, shaking in anger. Without hesitating, she lifted a hand and I braced for the second impact, closing my eyes tightly. But her hand latched around my throat tightly, and she dragged me closer, watching with a sick amusement as my eyes flashed open in shock beneath my hood. "You think you're clever?" she snarled at me.

Her grip tightened around my throat, and I choked, wriggling awkwardly in her hold. "Never," I admitted through my teeth. "I have a bad habit of getting into trouble, see."

For a second, Riley's expression flickered in astonishment. But it didn't take her long to recover, doubling her grip and turning to face the audience that had gathered. "Do you see?" she shouted, her voice quivering in fury. "Do you see what bravery gets you?" Grimacing in delight at the fearful looks she received, she yanked the hood down onto my shoulders to show them all the cut across my cheek. "Look at you," she spat at me, and I gasped for air, trying my best to glower back. "You're nothing more than a little girl hiding beneath a hood, and you think you worry me?"

Scoffing arrogantly, she pushed me back until I crashed to the floor beside Trey and the little girl. He glanced up at me wryly, confused but grateful I'd intervened. "Take them all away! Get them out of my sight!" Riley snapped at the other Peacekeepers, and they marched forward.

Something in my stomach knotted at the sight of them, and the little girl squealed in fright, scrambling away from the nearest Peacekeeper. My chest clenched, and I once again felt myself shifting before I'd given it a thought, swiping my leg out to trip the Peacekeeper as I pushed myself unsteadily to my feet.

"Hey!" another objected, pulling his fist back. Instinct kicked in and adrenaline surged through my veins. Suddenly, my heart was pumping and all my actions blurred together. I ducked, catching his wrist as it passed and twisting slightly. He yelped and turned, right into the knee I'd brought up into his stomach. The pained sound was cut short as the wind was forced out of his lungs, and I shoved him back into the next brave Peacekeeper as a shot of victory sent a rush through me like live electricity. As I watched them crash to the floor, hands clamped onto my shoulders and I automatically brought my elbow back to smash into their face. I heard the Peacekeeper crumble to the floor, then silence.

I took a ragged breath, scanning the square with my muscles still tensed. Riley had disappeared. Where, I wasn't sure, but she'd left the other Peacekeepers to deal with her mess. Another four were watching me, stunned, and behind me, Trey was back on his feet, shielding Layton and the little girl.

In the few seconds of silence, I managed to note every single stunned face in the crowd, and suddenly my chest clenched in fear. What on Earth had I just done?

Suddenly, all four Peacekeepers bolted toward me and I tensed, panicked and alarmed. There was no way I could face down four of them, all now armed, on my own. Not that I had much time to think about it.

As the four Peacekeepers reached me, some solid smashed into the back of my head and I instantly crumbled to the floor, darkness descending.