YIPPEE. You guys got this one early. BECAUSE OF YOUR FANTASTIC REVIEWS. O_O THEY WERE FANTASTIC. I dedicate this chapter to Terrace Lilly, probably my favorite reviewer. . .ever.

Terrace Lilly: *faints*

*Talking Waffle poofs in*

Me: What, are you still feeling dry?

Disclaimer: If I owned the Hunger Games, then the movie would be out tommorow. If I owned Percy Jackson, then I'd give myself a copy of Mark of Athena!

PS, I'm Heroes-of-Olympusing things up a bit, and I'm switching POVs of Elise and Elijah every three chapters. OMG I just realized both names start with the letters ELI

TO THE STORY.

"Elise Wells," he calls out with a smile on his face.

At first I convince myself that it's fake. "Elise Wells," the man up front calls again, because nobody seems to be moving. Elise Wells...That's me.It takes me a few seconds to process. I have been picked to die. Well, maybe. He repeats himself. "Elise Wells, please come up here." I jump and I fully realize that he's calling me. People stare at me as I file out of line and to the long way to the stage where the reaper is.

I slowly walk the 100 meters up to where the man is standing. I climb the steps and stand next to him. I swallow. Chill out. You can do this. Just don't die. I tell myself. I feel like screaming, but the voice inside me isn't anywhere to be found. You've been trained for this your whole life. Just pray you don't know the Male tribute. . . . I keep thinking to myself.

After another really awkward silence, the man continues on. "And now Gentlemen!" he says. He digs his hand through the bowl, and then pulls out a slip of paper. He opens it, but not as dramatically as he did for me. He makes his I-Know-Who's-Going-To-Die-And-You-Don't! Smile. I take a deep breath.

The odds really haven't been in my favor so far. . . What if it's Elijah? Wait, what? It's not going to be Elijah! Why are you so paranoid? All I think to myself. It's not going to be-

"Elijah Wells," he calls.

"WHAT?" I scream. Not my brother. No, this is NOT my brother who just got called! Elijah! He's just twelve!

Chill out, Elise. Nothing's happening. You're probably just imagining. Now just wait until he calls out the real name.

"Elijah Wells," he says again, slowly. I break when a wide-eyed, jaw-dropped Elijah squirms out of the back of the twelve year old boy's section. This time I can't hold it. My emotions fall out of me. I collapse down on my knees and burst into tears. I can't contain it. He walks the long, long way up here faster than I did.

I continue to let all my emotions out. "Well, it looks like we have two siblings that were picked!" he says, looking at two of the slips. I start hyperventilating. "No. No. No-no-no-no-no-no-no. . . NO!" I finally scream. "This is not happening. Not happening." I whisper to myself.

The thing is, it IS happening. I love my brother, and now I have to kill him?It just shows how much power the Capitol holds: "Since you guys rebelled, we're going to do something worse than kill you. We're going to kill your children."

Elijah finally trumps up, and I go over to him and hug him. Tears are pouring out of my eyes even though I don't mean them to. He is a little teary eyed, but more stricken with fear looking. He has a 99% emotionless face. The 1% is the little tears forming around his eyes. I start to panic and I hug him. I can' t let it go.

I can hear the loud sobbing of my parents despite they're about half a mile away. "Well, this is a first," the reaper says. He laughs and says, "Of course it's a first. This is the first Annual Hunger Games!" He smiles, and says, "And may the odds be ever in your favor! There we have it!"

I'm still processing everything as Peacekeepers surround Elijah and I, leading us over to the District 2 Justice Building. Elijah is taken to a different room. I sit there in silence. I love my brother more than anything. We're best friends. They CAN NOT do this to us.

This room is probably the most luxurious I've ever been. I wonder what the Capitol's going to be like, I wonder as I sit down on a velvet couch, rubbing my hand back and forth on it.

I feel all the despair in the world. I'm feeling so-so about being in the Hunger Games in the first place, but really, me, pitched against my brother and 22 other people? Even if a District 2 champion won, only one of us would come back alive. There's twenty four of us, Elise! Only one comes out!I tell myself. I shove my hands into my face and try to compose myself.

Come on, isn't there some rule out there that maybe if 2 tributes left from the same district they could be declared winners? I'm thinking, but I know that this is the Capitol's way of torturing us. There is no loophole around this. One of us is going to have to die.

I just sit there. Elijah and I . . . Normal siblings fight, but Elijah and I never fight. We're best friends. (Well, besides Lana and I) Really, my poor little brother picked out of about 10,000 slips. No, two families won't be mourning. It's just going to be my poor mother and my step father.

After about twenty minutes, my mother is shoved into the room where I am being held by guards. "You get ten minutes," they say. She then slowly walks into the room, silent tears going down her cheeks. I am hugging her in under a second. "Please don't leave me," she whispers. This is one of the few moments where she isn't serious. "I'll come back. Don't worry," I promise her. "But then, what about Elijah?" She asks. This induces more crying. She runs her fingers through my long dark blonde hair.

"It'll be okay, mom," I say. It's now me comforting her. We just stand there in silence. I can feel her heart beating as I hug her. I don't want this moment to end. I know it will end soon.

After a minute or two of silence, guards come in and drag my helpless mother away. "Don't go!" I scream. I try to run to her, but more guards come towards me. I collapse down into my seat, and then my step father is shoved in. He looks like an older version of Elijah, with short brown hair, jade green eyes that I also have, even though he isn't my official father.

He doesn't say anything, but comes in to hug me instead. His face is emotionless. After a few moments, I sit down again. Elise! I hear a voice in my head. Man up! Don't go moping around! This is time to show those R, I mean, the Capitol that you're stronger than they are. Now is the time to bring some well-earned fame to District 2. I sigh and smile. This is one of the few times that my real father, Ares, speaks to me.

I look down into my lap, where my hands are twitching anxiously. "I don't care," I mumble. "I'm probably the worst excuse child of Ares ever."

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing," I groan. I go up to him and hug him again. I wish he were my real father instead, even though he isn't the god of hugs. I just need something to keep me from what's happening. We just stay there in silence.

"I just want to say," he says, "even though I'm not your real father, I just want you to know that I feel like I'm your real father. I love you and I want you to be strong no matter what."

"Okay," I whisper. Guards then come in and take him away. I am surprised with one more visitor. John. My brother; a son of Ares.

He gets shoved through the door. The first thing he says is "This really stinks."

"You were really close with Elijah, right?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say. I sit down.

"Like I said earlier at camp, now is the time for you to get some honor to District 2. Just don't die, and you'll be fine," he tries to tell me words of encouragement, but it only makes it worse.

"And watch my brother die?" I ask. "I don't know which to pick. Honor for my District, my death, or his death."

"Just chill," John says. "You'll figure it out. Dad'll help you out." By now, his three minutes are up, and guards are coming in to collect him. I give him one last hug that lasts a millisecond and then he is gone.

"Tell the others I said bye!" I yell to him. Hopefully he interprets "others" as our two other brothers: the two other sons of Ares.

And now I wait. I wait in this room. It seems like nearly two hours beforethe person who did the reapings finally comes into the room where I am with my brother and three other guards.

"We have no time to waste," he says, and he takes my hand and drags me out of the room. "We've got to stick to a schedule!" he says. He drags me and Elijah outside to a Peacekeeper car, and we are immediately driven over to the train station.

There is a crowd of people there, guards, and civilians, watching, weeping, and looking serious. Oddly enough, there are also camera men. Wait a minute. . . OH! I forgot. This is supposed to be a huge televised event! A split second later, I officially decide that I am going to pull a deadly person type of angle until I enter the arena. I want to intimidate others, and to do it in front of a camera is the perfect opportunity.

I give a small smirk to the audience who is staring at my brother, the reaping dude, and myself being carted off to our deaths. There! Let them figure out what that means!

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