When the anthem ended, I was thrown into a room that smelled of pine. I was sitting on a couch with cushions to protect from the exposed wood. The whole room was wood. I didn't mind. Pine, willows, and oak trees surround my farm. Their fragrance was constantly filling the air, replacing the smell of dirty cows. I was waiting for my visitors. The door opened and the Peacekeepers threw my family in. "You have five minutes!" he yelled.

Jace and Jetta wrapped their arms around me. Jetta sat on my lap while Jace sat on the seat beside me. My mother hugged me, her tears spilling on the new dress she got me. My father was standing, waiting for the hugs to get out of our system. Jetta wouldn't let go of my neck. "Jada, do you have to go?"

"Yes, Jester." I have been calling her Jester since she was four. She chased a chicken all over our farm, and it almost went to town, just to put it to bed. "I have to go. I promise I'll come back."

"I knew I wasn't going to be picked!" I ruffled Jace's hair. "I feel bad for Stiles. I don't think he'll make it."

"Jace, don't say that. They said that about that twelve year old who won about eight years ago." My father's voice quieted everyone. I pried Jetta off of my neck and hugged my father. I didn't want to be the first Caldwell to die from the Hunger Games. I didn't want to let go of my father, whose muscles tightened around my body.

"I promise I'll take care of Philomena and Locomotion for you." His voice cascades down my back, since he is taller than me. I am the only one in the Caldwell family who is five foot tall. My throat forms a lump when he mentions Locomotion. Loco is my horse. I always rode him after the Reapings, going onto the trails that I loved to ride on, happy I wasn't chosen.

But, Loco is not going to be ridden today.

Their visit is over and Jace hung on to my legs. "Jacey, let go." I whisper is a harsh tone.

"No! NO!" He wails as Peacekeepers grab his sides. My dad finally picks up Jace and carries him in his arms, out of the room. Jetta and my mother follow them. I sit back down on the couch.

I look from wall to wall and see pictures of past victors. I see Annabelle's picture, with the number 163 behind her. Dane's picture is him staring intensely at the camera. His respective Hunger Games year was layered behind him. I saw five more pictures and noticed the years: 78, 81, 99, 104, and 111. I know some of the victors died from overdose or too much drinking. I believe the victors from the 104 and 111 Hunger Games died from old age. At least there is a live victor that I can have. Annabelle.

The door swings open and I see Hadley. She hobbles her way to me and collapses on the couch. I hugged her gently, closing my eyes. I can still feel her ribs. "Why? Why did you volunteer? I..." She loses her voice in tears. Warm, salty tears landed on my shoulder. I didn't mind, and I cried on her shoulder.

"I had to. You weren't going to make it past the bloodbath. You know how hard that would be for your family?" I answer her, releasing her scrawny body. Her body was not a result of her sickness, but the result of undernourishment. That, combined with her sickness, would make her easy pickings for the upper Districts. They'd eat her up like they eat their divine meals, in the worst way possible.

"I know. I hope you get paired with someone from District One or Two." Her voice cracks and I know it's still hard for her.

"Me too." I say, and we sit for a moment in silence.

Her eyes graze to the walls and I know she's looking at the victors. We spend the last two minutes talking about them and we planned my strategy. I have to talk it over with Annabelle, but we already decided what I will do.

"Hadley, before you go, tell my father that I said you can get food from us. I can't revoke your tesserae, but you can get more food from my parents."

"Are you sure?" Her brown eyes grew large when I mentioned food.

"Yes. Have your family go to my house to eat meals. That will take care of your weight. When I come back, I want to see meat on your bones." I joked, hoping she didn't take that the wrong way.

"Thank you!" She hugged me tightly. She didn't take it the wrong way. She wished me good luck and is escorted out by the Peacekeepers.

Stiles, being only twelve, has the most visitors. I only had my family and the friend I saved from her premature death. I had a long time until Annabelle or Dane came to fetch me. I looked at the past victors, and replayed their games in my head. Annabelle used her slyness and snuck food out of everyone. When there was only five left, she searched everyone down and sprinkled nightlock juice among their food. Dane went in the different direction. He scored a nine on his training, came off as a killer, and proved it in the arena. He made a mad dash to the Cornucopia and grabbed the best weapons. He killed over half of the tributes by his hand.

My mind wondered from memory to memory. How many visitors does Stiles actually have? I looked to the ceiling and my mind wondered off.

I woke up on a sunny summer day. The Hunger Games that year just ended and, obviously, District 2 reeled in a victor. That I didn't mind for. When I woke up, my dad was standing over me. He had a pair of boots that could fit over my small feet. From the looks of those boots, they were new. "Jada put these on and come to the pasture. I have a surprise for you!" He placed the boots on the floor.

I jumped out of bed, put on my clothes and my boots and headed towards the door. I see my mother, holding my newest sibling, Jetta, in her arms while Jace played with a cow toy. I ran outside as fast as my nine-year-old legs could carry me. I saw a baby cow, curled in a ball near the fence.

"Daddy! A baby cow!" I yell, running to the newest member our cattle farm.

"Yes. She was born earlier this morning. And I want you to have her." His eyes sparkled as I accepted.

"I am going to name her...Philomena!" I exclaim, trying to hold me excitement back.

"Pet her." My dad grabbed my wrist and placed my fingers on my newly acquired Holstein. Her head was soft and it felt tingly under my fingertips. My lips curled into a wide smile. It was my first time seeing a baby cow and petting one. Philomena lifted her eyes to meet mine and mooed.

Dad lifted me over the fence and put me face to face with the baby. Her dark eyes were very large, staring into mine. Suddenly, she stretched her neck and nuzzled my cheek. I smiled, smiled like I never smiled before, and hugged her neck. She let out a weak moo.

The door swung open and I saw Annabelle standing in front of me. She was wearing a simple sky blue dress and her blond hair was in loose curls. Her jewelry was excessive, especially on her wrists. Her dark green eyes were friendly, giving me a feel that I can talk to her. Her thick lips were smeared with a pale pink lipstick.

"You ready for the Capitol?"