Autumn scraps of confetti drift down from the sky, falling on everything, and everyone, below. The picturesque view of the ocean rumbling towards land seems extremely eerie now that every girl and boy faced their possible deathbed. It was a crisp day, a day perfect for sunning on the snowy white beach. Of course, it was a bit too cold for a dip in the clear water, but nonetheless, it was a lovely day.

With reluctantcy, Misty opens the wooden screen door to the aging beach shack along the shore. Sapphire eyes were now a stormy gray, clouded with a thick fog of mystery and fear. The young girl wears a ragged and dusty pale dress, two braids disappearing to the back of her head to meet up and wavy with the rest of her wild waves.

"Darling," A voice whispers from behind.

With a spin, she turns, her hands taken in two other hands as she looks up into tear-stained eyes.

"Mom, don't cry..." Misty trails off, smiling sheepishly, "I'll be back for dinner." She knew it was hard to say, especially since she's been saying this for four straight years now. It's devastating to watch two mere children be captured by our Capitol and brought to fight to the death. It's disguisting.

"I-I'll try not to, for you, sweetheart." She brushes her forehead and kisses it, turning back away into the shack.

The house was on the edge of the district, so Misty had a good ten minute walk ahead of her. It was nice living right by the beach, it provided tranquility in times of need. The waves softly crashing against the shore, the district's children all soaking up the sun, even the parents enjoyed their share of the dazzling clear waters. Oh how I wish times were like they said they were...

After the districts' sign of rebellion, Katniss Everdeen, passed away, during the mourning of all the districts, the Capitol took action and rebuilt their beloved area. It took 20 years to rebuild after her death, so they continued the 75th Quarter Quell and added 20 years to add the Reconstruction Period as part of the Games' history. Misty was only 11 at that point, so now, as the 100th Quarter Quell, she was a nervous wreck.

As she approaches the town, teens are gathered around, filing through neatly, the Peacekeepers guiding them. They were their prisoners, waiting on Death Row impatiently on who was going to get it next. A small boy only 12, clings to his brother's arm, his dark hair slightly spikey. He whines as a woman takes his finger and pricks it, taking his blood into a complex machine. The older boy looks over at Misty, his blond strings shining in the sunlight. He gives her a bitter-sweet smile, following his younger brother quickly before he loses him. There's Fang for you. Always caring enough to keep his brother safe and calm. He always put his brother first, and it was no surprise if he got reaped because of the amount of times his name has been put down.

As Misty makes her way towards the line, her blood drawn, she catches those shining eyes burning into her skin from the distance. Cater... She freezes up, staring at him. A shove from behind gets her scrambling forward, angered voices complaining. What's there even to complain about? The young girl lets out a sigh as she makes her way in crowd of teens.

Years seem to pass before the microphone squeals, a man approaching in a lavishing suit, his slicked back icy hair slightly hidden with a lovely fedora. His perfect smile would clearly set lots of girls' hearts ablaze, but no one dares to murmur.

"Hello, District 4, and welcome to the reaping of the 100th Quarter Quell!" Silence takes over for awhile, "I'm extremely glad that all of you took your time out of your busy schedules to come over! I'm Edward Trinket, and here, we will be showing you a clip from our lovely Capitol!"

A Trinket... Misty lets out a sigh. No wonder he was so enthusiastic. The clip begins to play, showing many capitol families showing their thanks to their entertainees in their sick Games. Misty seems to ignore it, though, spacing out, clearly thinking about her family and friends. What if my name is drawn? What if I'll never return? What if I can't tell him? A wave of heartbreak overwhelms her, skin turning pale with grief.

"What a fantastic video put together by the Capitol!" Edward gives his melting smile again before continuing, Misty's attention now caught by the words, "Before we get with our tributes this year, let's go back to what our dashing President said about the twist to this year's Quarter Quell!"

A video, previously broadcasted, pops up onto the screen. President Sparklez's face appears, his eyes hidden with his signature ruby glasses. His expression is stern, arms folded professionally in front of him. He stares into the camera, holding a red envelope.

"Thank you for your time, Districts of Panem, as I bring you the twist the this year's Quarter Quell." The man opens the envelope, pealing the golden seal in the shape of a creeper off. He takes the crisp paper inside and takes turns looking towards the camera and at the paper.

"For the 100th Quarter Quell, Districts will be asked to draw in their normal tributes, one boy, one girl, of ages 12 to 18. With their two tributes, a third tribute will be chosen of any age, any gender, to compete with their other two tributes. However, the third tribute chosen must have meaning to one or both normal tributes. That is all, and may the 100th Hunger Games be the best one yet."

As the video comes to an end, Edward turn back to us, two glass bowls filled with small light blue cuts of paper, each one a name on it. Each one is a chance of someone's death.

"As they say, ladies first." He lets out a smile, dipping his hand in the bowl and pulling out a slip of paper. Unfolding it carefully, he looks towards the crowd, the words flowing softly from his lips.

"MistyMockingjay."

The young girl's heart stops, breathing starting to cease as she fights to catch her breath. It was a punch in the gut, and now as she is escorted up on the stage in front of the Justice Building, she struggles to keep on herself on her feet. Before she knows it, Edward draws a slip of paper in the second glass bowl, looking at the crowd again with those menacing eyes.

"VirulentFang."

The boy squeezes his younger brother's hand, starting to murmur something to him, but is pulled away by two Peacekeepers. The young boy cries as his brother is torn from him.

"Fang!" The young boy cries, tears streaming down his cheeks, but the young boy is escorted towards the stage as well now, clearly becoming the third tribute.

Misty shakes her head violently, trying to calm herself down from the cries and whimpers from the young boy. Fang seems to struggle around in the Peacekeepers' grips, but is kept on stage. Here were District 4's tributes: The boy, his friend and his brother. As the 12-year-old boy took his first step onto the stage, a voice cries out behind the startled teens, grasping everyone's attention.

"I volunteer as District 4's third tribute!"

Two Peacekeepers seize the man behind the crowd and escort him on stage instead of the young boy. Making his way up the stairs is the man Misty never wanted to see on the stage by my side.

No, no, no! The young girl screams in her mind, tears hiding back in her eyes.

"And what may your name be, sir?" Edward puts a microphone up to the man's face.

The man faces me, eyes searching me for any hint of expression. He did this for Fang's brother. Misty's eyes fog over as she begins to get dizzy with the truth replaying in her mind like a record, heart pounding against her chest. He did this for all of us. He's doing this to protect Fang and I. The man faces the crowd.

"Caterleigh. My name is Caterleigh."