District 11

I woke up to an unworldly stench. It seemed to be coming from the ground below me... Wait... What? I looked around me. I was in a tree, which was strange, for I could have sworn I fell asleep in my bed. A large forest surrounded me and it looked like it was midday. Panic coursed through me as a thought came to my head. Could I be?

"No," I reassured myself half-heartedly, "there's no way..."

The stench wafted up again, causing my eyes to water and my lungs to have a coughing fit. Finally, when I couldn't stand it anymore, I looked down to see where the smell was coming from.

The sight that awaited me was horrifying.

Dead, mutilated and bloody bodies littered the ground below me. I screamed and began to climb higher into the tree, attempting to escape the gruesome massacre. But it seemed that the higher I climbed, the closer the bodies got. Eventually, the tree disappeared, leaving me to fall to the ground below.

"No!" I screamed, flailing my arms as if to stop myself from falling, "No!"

"Sam! Sam! Are you alright?" a voice invaded my head.

"Huh?" I sat up, the adrenaline still pumping through me. I was in my bedroom, and my bed was a wreck. The blanket was in a crumpled mess on the floor, and my only pillow was halfway across the room. I shook my head, "It was only a dream..."

"You bet!" the voice said, sounding exasperated, "Gosh, you were screaming so much that I thought someone was trying to kill you! Then, when I came to help, you threw your pillow at me!"

"Sorry, Melissa. But I'm fine now,"

"Alright, but you better get dressed soon, the Reapings about to start," Melissa said, ruffling my light brown hair, "I saved you some breakfast. It's on the kitchen table, under the bowl."

"Okay, thanks," I sigh as I get out of bed and look for the pants my mother had laid out for me last night, "I'll be down in a minute."

With a nod of her head, Melissa swiftly left the room, allowing me to change. It bothered me how she, being my younger sister, always had to take care of me. She was almost more motherly than my own mother, which was unusual for girls her age. Well she does live with a bunch of barbaric boys, I thought. My older brothers were constantly causing troubles, and with my mom always working, they got away with most of it.

Melissa was the one who kept the house in order, despite being the youngest of us four.

When I finally found my pants, I quickly changed and headed into the kitchen. Just as expected, there was a slice of bread with jam awaiting me, under the bowl. I took the food gratefully and headed out the door. Melissa, Rico and Ty were waiting for me.

"Finally decided to join us now, sleepy head?" Rico smirked at me, giving me a large slap on the back.

Ty laughed, "The monsters dead yet?"

"Oh guys, just leave him alone," Melissa huffed, rolling her green eyes at my brothers behavior, "I'm quite sure you've had bad dreams before too."

"Yah when I was, maybe, five?" Ty giggled along with Rico, both of them having trouble walking.

"Come on! It's not Sam's fault he has bad dreams. It's not like he can..." Melissa started before I butted in.

"It's fine, Melissa," I sighed, already exhausted.

Melissa gave me an irritated look before she shoved my lanky figure playfully, "You're just embarrassed that I'm sticking up for you again."

I just looked at her for a moment. How easily she could read me. She always knew how I really felt, no matter how hard I tried to hide it.

I smiled at her, but I did not attempt to retort back. She would find a flaw in my argument anyways, as she always did. So there would be no point. I was never good at that type of thing.

I held Melissa's hand the rest of the way to the Reapings. After her quarrel with my brothers, she had gotten rather nervous. It was her first Reaping after all.

When it was time for us to split, Melissa gave my hand one last squeeze. Fear flooded her usually calm eyes, "What if I get picked, Sam?" tears budded in her eyes, "what if they pick me?"

"There's no way they'll pick you," I told her, trying to sound confident, "Don't worry, you're safe."

I pulled her into a hug, "Thanks," she mumbled into my shirt before dashing off to the twelve-year-old section. I followed her example, and quickly set off towards the other 17 year olds. We were late; the mayor had already finished his speech.

I watched as the Capitol escort clambered on stage. His large, purple wig bobbing up and down with every step he took. Finally, he reached the microphone and after a long and unnecessary clearing of his throat he began what we all were dreading.

"Happy Hunger games!" he yelled with so much enthusiasm that his wig nearly fell off, "And may the odds be ever in your favor! Now let's begin, shall we!"

No, let's not begin, I thought hopefully. However, our escort still made his way to the glass bowl. He stuck his hand in, swirled all the names around a bit, before he grabbed on from the bottom.

He just stared at the name for a while, with his strange silver eyes. I guessed he was trying to make it suspenseful, but it was rather irritating. After a moment of silence, he spoke, loud and clear.

"Melissa Hetlan!"

My body went numb. I couldn't believe it! Melissa stumbled up the stage, fear clearly written on her face. But I barely had time to react when the escort called out the boy's name.

"Samuel Hetlan!"

No. It's not possible.

I, Samuel Hetlan, would be entering the Hunger Games with my sister.