Hi guys. This is definitely my favourite chapter so far. I haven't had any reviews for the past two chapters and I really don't know what to do as I don't know what you want. I'm not sure whether to scrap this whole thing as I'm not getting any feedback, which is what I really don't want to do. Please review as I really need to know what you guys think of what I'm producing. I still need the outfits for Districts 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 11 and 12. I can't do any chapters after District 12 if you don't send me them. Please send some and review.

Fallow Coulter, 18

I still can't believe father said that. What provoked him to say all that? On another note, I was the first girl to volunteer for the games since the 100th Games. I feel pretty good about that. I guess Quarter Quells are a big thing for citizens in District 11. Yet, no one volunteers for regular Games. Although, the last girl volunteered because she admitted she hated her family and the district. She thought she could win, live in the Victor's Village, and stay away from everyone. She told Panem, during her interview, that she wanted nothing else than to live in the Capitol. The interviewer and the rest of Panem got slightly confused and I could tell some of them didn't want that to happen. You'd think the gamemakers would love her for her love of the Capitol but they didn't. They hated her attitude. She managed to survive the bloodbath and kill a handful of tributes before she was killed by a mutt at the gamemaker's hands. They didn't want her to win. No one did.

I volunteered for a completely different reason. I didn't have any siblings to volunteer for and I didn't want to prove myself for my parents either. About 4 months ago, I was raped. I was too ashamed to tell anyone as he was my boyfriend at the time. I tried to push him away but he held me down. I couldn't report it as I still loved him. About three weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant. Morning sickness, frequently needing the toilet and mood swings were all the symptoms I needed to confirm that I was pregnant. I realised I couldn't raise the baby as I can barely afford to look after myself. My bump thankfully hadn't started growing as I wanted to keep it secret. I still haven't told anyone. When the notice came around, telling us that the Reapings would occur the next week, I decided I would volunteer. Not because I wanted to throw my life away, but if, by some miracle, I managed to win, the Capitol would take care of me and the baby. If I died, well, I die and I won't need to worry about the baby. I know it seems bad but that's just how life is.

The Reaping Day finally arrived but I hadn't told my parents of my plan otherwise they'd start bombarding me with questions as to why I would do such a thing. I signed in and I could see girls, even my age, crying into the shoulders of their friends. Even the boys on the other side were doing the same. I felt better about myself volunteering as every girl would be saved today thanks to me. All of my friends will never have to go in the Games after the Reaping so that's even better. I guess never seeing my friends and family again is a downside but I can't think of that now. The Mayor gave his mandatory speech about the history of Panem. He started with all the disasters and the rebellion leading up to the Dark Days, then he went into extreme, painful-to-absorb detail about how the Capitol destroyed District 13 and forced the rest of the Districts into slavery. I could see tears forming in his eyes as he was talking. He introduced our escort and sat down.

"My name is Aika Been," he said with pride, "and I will be the escort for your tributes this year."

He walked over to the female's bowl and instantly, every girl leaned forward and took a simultaneous, sharp intake of breath. Not me. He picked out the tiny slip and before I had the chance to think about who was Reaped, I did what I had planned on doing for the past month.

"I volunteer!" I shouted as loud as I could. Everyone turned towards the source of the noise with bewildered looks on their faces. I walked up to the stage and faced the escort. He was at a loss and it wasn't until I snapped my fingers in his face that he came back to reality.

"W-what's your n-name?" He struggled. He was not expecting this, and judging from the expressions on everyone else's faces, neither were they.

"Fallow Coulter."

"Y-your tribute for Dis-District 11, everyone. Fallow Coulter!" With that, he grabbed my hand and raised it in the air. Obviously, no one applauded. They were too flummoxed to even think of clapping.

"Let's see if we can make one volunteer into two," Aika began, as he walked over to the boy's bowl. "This is a very fancy name: Robert Blade." I saw a boy walk out of the 12 year old section. Crap, my partner is 12 years old. There goes my chance of winning. He'll die early and will make my island sink. Brilliant.

When I got to the Justice Building, I remembered I had to talk with my family. Crap, I completely forgot about that. Now I'd have to explain my reason for volunteering.

My mother burst open the door and actually broke the handle off the door. Her face was red, nostrils flaring, lips pursed, eyes soaking. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO?"

Hello to you, mother. She calmed down and sank into dad's arms. After about three minutes me staring at mother and father wailing, (the Capitol could have heard them) they both calmed down and asked me for an explanation. Thankfully, during their wailing, I managed to come up with a decent lie.

"Look," I started, "I only volunteered because that girl went to my school and I got to know her quite well. She didn't deserve to go into the games. She was sure to die. Maybe I could win." That last phrase made mother's head rise and start off a smile, only to be destroyed by what my dad said next.

"What you did was pathetic. How do you think you could possibly win? You're going to die the same way every District 11 girl dies, painfully, quickly and early on."

What. The. Hell.

Why did he say that? What provoked him to say that? Dad and I have always got on. We rarely argue and we've never held grudges for more than a couple days. Both my mother and I stared at him with open mouths. Even she didn't know where all that came from. To break the silence, the peacekeeper walked in and informed us time was up and my parents had to leave. I left for the train, still open-mouthed at what happened just less than ten minutes ago. I need to take my mind off it. I walk over to the food but can't eat. I think I've lost my appetite for the rest of my life, whatever's left of it. I have to try and calm Robert down now. He's gone out of control.

Robert Blade, 12

No. This can't be right. I had two slips whereas my brother had 18. This isn't right! The odds definitely weren't in my favour this year. Gah! Why did this have to happen to me? I'm already eating out of frustration and I can almost feel myself expanding from the waist outwards. This is not my day. No. No. I'm shaking while I'm eating, getting food everywhere. On the floor, on the table, on my clothes. The avox behind me has to hold me and tries to calm me down without talking. Not working. Once I stop shaking, I burst into tears and keep it going for 15 minutes straight. Everyone in the cabin is trying to help me, even Fallow, the first girl to volunteer in District 11 since the 100th Games. She's the one that is actually calming me down properly as she's the only one close to how I'm feeling right now.

When I'm taken to my room by my avox after my sudden outburst, I lie down on my bed and try to put back the puzzle pieces in my head of what's happened over the last day.

I took out one tessera this year. My brother took out two because of our mum. He's 17 now, which is why he had 18 slips with his name in the bowl this year. He agreed that he'd take out mother's tesserae so I wouldn't have as much chance to go in the games as much as him. He's so protective, but not as protective to buy my tesserae, too. His protectiveness only goes so far. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. I'm about to die a bloody death and my brother only has one year left, most likely not going into next year's games.

We both left the house, ready to go to the town square to sign-in and wait for someone's doom. My brother left me at the 12 year old section. I've seen every Reaping since I was born, obviously only remembering the past few years, and have been able to understand the protocol of the day. I waited with my friend from school and we both had our arms around each other's shoulders. I've been friends with him since, well, as long as I remember. His older sister went into the games a couple years ago and died in the bloodbath. He hasn't been the same since and who can blame him? He will never be the same again. The Capitol took away all of his happiness and replaced it with depression. Anything that reminds him of his sister will make him cower in the corner of the room and sob until his tear ducts are dry. For the Reapings since his sister died, I've been with him, to make sure he's okay. He can't get through a Reaping without crying. Now that we were both eligible for competing, I didn't know how he would feel.

The escort walked out after the Mayor had given his boring speech. There was something in his voice that didn't feel right. Maybe he has finally cracked. The escort read out the name of the girl but before the girl could even move, an 18 year old volunteered. I didn't even know volunteering was even an option in District 11. No one in my lifetime had ever volunteered before her. She was asked for her name and she replied with "Fallow Coulter." Her voice was cold. She didn't seem the friendly type but who am I to judge? After everyone's face had gone back to normal after being in shock (which was about 10 minutes later), the escort paced over to the boy's bowl, still shocked about the girl who volunteered. He picked out a slip and fumbled it about in his hands until he could get a firm grasp on it. He was in genuine shock. I've never seen anything like it. He looked at the slip, and gave a smile. "This is a very fancy name: Robert Blade," he cried. I imagined looking in a mirror to see a boy with his mouth as wide as his face. Me? It couldn't possibly be me. I only had two slips in there. My brother had way more than me. Wait, him, maybe he could volunteer in my place, I thought. I walked up to the stage and looked at him. As I said before, his protectiveness only goes so far. Dammit, Mitchell, of all the times I really need you and you help me, this is the one time you wimp out? I looked over to my friend, Sam. He's already lost his sister and now he's going to lose his best friend. He was already in tears and I wished someone would have taken my place there and then.

The Justice Building scenario was the worst, though. Having mum, dad and Mitchell all in the same room with me, crying, was impossible to bear. I broke down along with them and managed to regain control after Mitchell put his arms around me.

"The one time I need your help, and you just WIMP OUT?" I shout at the top of my voice. My rage had risen. Mitchell looked shocked.

"You wanted me to volunteer just so you could stay? Sorry little bro, but I have a life, too, you know? It's not all about you." Those words felt like they cut deep into my heart. "Yes, you got Reaped. Yes, you're most likely going to die. but as much as I love you, I wouldn't take your place to die, and then you having the possibility of getting reaped again would just make the whole reason for me volunteering for you void. I'm sorry Zero, I just couldn't let myself do that."

Zero is the nickname given to me by Mitchell, himself, because whenever I play a sporty game against him like; football, basketball, or a simple running race, I always seem to score zero points against him. He's made it so that I'll never forget it.

I now sit in my bedroom, crying on my bed, silently wishing someone had volunteered to take my place. Too late now. I'm so scared of what's to come. It just get's worse from here on out. I get up and go into the bathroom. It's so... clean. Pristine is a better word to describe it. I look at the bath tub and it's about twice the size of me, lengthways. The tub at home is just an over-sized bucket, which we all share. This tub is all for me, and only me. A bathroom has lifted my spirits. Huh, I really have gone mad. I start running a steaming hot bath. I've never had a steaming hot bath before. We heat the water to boiling temperature and pour it into the bucket at home, kettle after kettle. By the time the water has risen to adequate level, the water has already lost most of its heat. But to have running hot water and a separate sink is just incredible. Once the bath is risen to a good level, I undress and slowly lower myself into the almost-body burning, soapy, water and close my eyes and rest.