Second Chapter. Hope you enjoyed the first. Yes the reaping. I like this chapter alot. Definatly better than the first but what do you think? Please let me know. Thank you and enjoy chapter two :)

Chapter Two

I stand in the roped off section near the front, waiting, watching. The stage has been built, the screens set up, and now all we need is an escort to arrive ready for the reaping. As we wait the square gets more and more full, the heat rising as we are pressed against each other with the new arrivals. I'm standing among girls that I recognise from school. Some of them have tried to be my friend due to my connections with Finnick, but after he saw how much his flirting with them hurt me he barely looked at them again. He's not interested in anyone but me, yet when he flirts I can't help but get jealous. The women of the Capital are different. He has to do that otherwise gran and I die, but at home no one is forcing him. I eventually decided to stay away from them. All of us were happier when they stay away. That includes Chris. Girls become friends with him to get to Finnick too, which probably hurts him even more than me.

I look to the right of the stage, where Finnick and my grandmother stand with one other victor. Their faces are emotionless, staring above the crowd of people towards the ocean that lies beyond. They are trying to forget the day they were reaped.

Suddenly a figure struts to centre stage. My mouth drops. This time it's a different escort, this one sillier than the last. He has blue hair, green skin, purple lips, red tattoos and yellow eyes. He wears orange clothes, looking like a walking rainbow. A ridicules one too. And his name is Stan Lockersmith.

"Welcome all to District 4," he bellows, in a voice that doesn't in anyway match his looks. I've always thought it strange that they welcome us to our own district, but I guess they're just doing their jobs.

After the usual speech about the honour and sacrifice of a tribute, he gets down to business. "Of course, first the girls." He waddles over to the plastic ball to his right, which of course if filled with millions of paper slips with everyone's name on. Will it be me? I doubt it. There are poorer kids with their name many more times than me. And there are the Careers.

The Careers are kids that have trained all their lives for this. They come from District 1, 2 and 4, although not everyone from those Districts are like them. Those people, the ones who have trained, are dangerous, likely winners and often too eager to go in, volunteering for the chosen kids. I often hope it's one of them rather than a small twelve year old. They have so much more chance.

Please be a Career, please please please be a Career.

But it's not.

"And the girl is... Annie Cresta."

It's me.

My heart stops. People all round me turn and stare. I look at Chris, his mouth wide open, a look of shock all over his face. I look at my Grandmother, then Finnick and watch as their faces' pale, my Grandmother becoming a shaking wreck. Then I look from the ground to the man at the front.

"Come on up, Miss Cresta," he calls.

I swallow hard, trying to stop myself from being sick, from running away. I force myself to walk forward and climb the steps, ignoring the whispers of 'that's Mags's granddaughter'. As I am pulled to the left of Stan I let reality sink in. This is it. I am District 4's female tribute. I have no volunteers. This is it.

Stan walks to the other plastic ball. "Now for the boys..."

I am still letting the reality of it all sink in as my grandmother's prediction echoes in my mind. She was wrong. I have no siblings, no cousins. Or had I been wrong? Mr Rif is like a father to me, Dekklan and Chris like my brothers. Oh god. The idea makes me want to vomit, but my grandmother is rarely wrong. 'Siblings or something like it'.

"Dekklan Rif."

Once again I see Chris's mouth drop open. His brother, his fourteen year old brother, has been picked. And she predicted a volunteer. I close my eyes briefly, waiting for Chris to react. I'm not kept waiting long.

"I volunteer," he yells.

I open my eyes and see him coming towards the stage. I don't know what's worse, fighting Dekklan or fighting Chris, but one thing's for sure: it's going to be hell.

The moment Chris reaches the stage he is forced to stand on the other side of Stan. Stepping back, Stan grins with glee. "Shake hands."

I lean across and let out my hand, but he takes it further. He fakes a kiss on my cheek, whispering in my ear, "We'll get out of this mess."

I smile sadly and give a slight shake of my head. "May the odds be ever in your favour," Stan smiles and then hurries us to the Justice building.

Inside I am pushed into a room and the doors slam behind me. No-one comes to see me. I didn't think they would. Grandmother and Finnick are mentors, they can't come, and the only other person I expect to see is Chris, but that won't happen. Well, almost no-one.

I do have two visitors. Mr Rif and Dekklan. Dekklan runs over to me and bursts into tears. I know why. He was being strong for Chris but now it's too much. I wrap my arms around him, letting him cry. I'm the strong one now.

Eventually he lets go and Mr Rif takes his place. "Be strong child," he says. I nod, overcome with numbness. "It won't be easy, but you are like a daughter to me. Pray one of you comes home," he says.

I am shocked. He doesn't want me dead for Chris's sake. If fact, he isn't like that at all. Although he probably does want Chris to win, he just hopes the victor will be one of the two of us.

I hug them both. I don't know what I want. To live? To die for Chris? Or maybe both. I can't have it that way though. It's one or the other. I have to decide.

They are about to leave when Dekklan places a small gift into my hand. "See you soon Annie," he says shakily. Then they're gone.

I look down at the gift, finding a small starfish he must have found on the beach. I smile at the thought, but as tears begin to fall, I let out my fright. As soon as I leave I will have no chance to feel sorry for myself again.

My time is up. Two peacekeepers come in and pull me roughly to my feet. I'm dragged to the door. Turning my head to the right, I see Chris in the same situation. "Come on, let go of her. Is that how you treat a lady? She won't run. Drag me instead," he growls.

The peacekeepers loosen their hold, letting me walk with them on either side of me, while he is dragged. Outside we are pushed into a car with Stan in the middle and driven to the station in silence.

Inside the car, my mouth drops open. It's all so shiny new, with delicious looking food of plenty, the comfiest looking seats and the softest carpet. It looks like heaven, so much so that Chris and I stand out like a fish out of water but it's all for us. I look at him. Its feels wrong to be here. We never get this kind of treatment elsewhere.

Stan, who seems to annoy Chris as much as me, leaves us to find the mentors. I turn to Chris. He rushes over, scooping me up and hugging me tight. "I'm sorry," I choke.

"Don't be. This shouldn't have happened to us."

"But it has."

"Yes. But I'm not going to stop fighting... ever."

I pull away. This must mean that he's in it to win it. Which means killing me. I look into his eyes, but I see no anger, no hate, just determination.

He must see my confusion, and maybe my hurt, because he looks hurt too. "I will never hurt you, you know that right?" I blink. Then my suspicion dissolves. This is Chris, the boy I've known since birth. He held me in his arms at only three days old. He's more of a brother than a friend. And now I'm on a train to the capital with him, where we'll both compete in the Hunger Games. With only one Victor. That means one of us will die.

I look at the floor, trying to forget the thought. "You know that right?" he asks harshly, shaking me.

I nod. "You'll never hurt me," I repeat, and he seems to relax. "And I'll never hurt you," I add for good measure.

"No, you won't." He diverts his eyes from mine, taking in our surroundings. "Look at all this food. It can't get much better than this."

"Oh but it can," a voice behind me makes me jump. Finnick stand in the doorway, looking dashing as usual... and doesn't he know it.

I supress a smile, just sigh with relief. Who knows whose watching, who's listening now. He looks from me to Chris, as if taking in the view. It must be hard, seeing both his best friend and his girlfriend standing where two tributes should be. I see it momentarily flicker across his face, but then he pulls himself together. "Nice to see you again. I've seen you both around school, and of course, Annie, your Mag's granddaughter, right?"

I nod. Playing it this way. I should be hurt, but I know he's trying to protect us, both of us. I don't know why he pretends not to know Chris as well as he does, since it's not like he could be a threat, but maybe I'm wrong.

He holds out a hand to Chris. "The famous Finnick Odair," Chris says, shaking it.

Finnick turns to me. He kisses me on both cheeks. "Finnick," I say quietly.

We stand in silence. We all think the same things. Which two of us will be reunited at the end, if any?

I'm the first to avert my eyes. "So Finnick, as our mentor, presuming you are, which of these dishes are best?" Chris says, breaking the silence.

"It's all delicious, rich mind. Don't have much if you're not used to it. Start with the soup. And as for mentor, I'll be both your mentors. Mags has decided to be vice mentor, since the pressure of the situation has made her emotional," Finnick says.

"Grandma..." I whisper under my breath, remembering her for the first time. My fears had been with Chris and how we would both work it out, but now I wonder how she's coping.

"She's fine. She just doesn't want to be responsible for your death, that's all. It'll be hard for her, being family. You understand right?"

I nod. I do, but I thought maybe she'd come to see me.

"She'll be coming to supper. She has important business to tend to at this moment," he says gently. I nod again, but my heart sinks. More important business than me.

Chris rests a hand on my shoulder but says nothing. I turn my attention to the food.

I start with the soap, knowing Finnicks warning of its richness will be true. It is delicious. Like nothing I've ever eaten before. When I say this Finnick just smiles slightly and sadly.

We sit down on the comfiest seats we can find, sinking into them, finding they are heated for extra comfort. Christ turns to Finnick. "So..."

"Later. You both vaguely know what happens, so I won't bore you with the whole speech. Go eat, settle in, get changed and we'll call you for supper, when the real work begins," he says, then leaves the way he came.

We're left sitting comfortably yet somehow stiff, knowing we don't belong here. I turn to Chris. "He does have a point. We should change," I say.

"Yes, but all I want to do is eat more food," he grins. Then, grabbing one of the cakes he leave the room from the exit Finnick had pointed at. I sit there for a moment, wondering how many more times I'll see that smile before I lose it forever. Then I grab a cake too and follow him to the exit.

I find the room marked T.G. easily enough. The one next door says T.B. which I guess must be Chris's. Tribute boy and tribute girl. That's all we are to the capital, isn't it?

Inside my room I take a shower, and then dress in a simple deep blue jumper and stone pants. With my shell necklace back on - which I suspect to be from Finnick, since money to him is no problem - I lie down on the bed and wait. A gentle knock at my door makes me jump. I open it and see Chris. "Hay," he smiles.

I step aside for him to come in. "I didn't want to be alone. Sorry," he says, his grey, storm like eyes distant. Dekklan and his father, that's who he thinks of.

He sits down on my bed. "Why us?" I ask.

"Because we were picked," Chris replies sharply.

"Were we? Or do they know the truth about me and Finnick?" I ask. Chris is one of the few people that knows the truth. It is through him that Finnick and I met. He and my grandmother, that's all. Or so I thought till now.

"No one knew. They wouldn't take me otherwise, would they?"

"Maybe I was planned but you were fluke, or maybe just thrown in for good measure," I suggest.

"It wasn't me though, was it? It was Dekklan," he frowns at the memory.

"Maybe to get you to volunteer..."

"Can we just forget it? Please? Whether it was rigged or not has no matter. We're both going in, end of discussion," he snaps.

I frown and turn around. "You've changed your tune."

"Yer well I wasn't thinking straight."

I look down at my feet. Giving up. He's giving up already. But with a shake of his head he seems to snap out of it. "Come on. No point moping around here is there?"

I stand up and follow him to the living room. I had no idea time had passed so quickly. Inside supper has been set out, with Finnick talking to my grandmother. Grandma...

I burst through the door and fling myself at her. Chris smiles. Finnick stops her from falling backwards. But it's her, smiling down at me, even if it's a sad, pained smile. My grandma...

The meal passes quickly. We talk little of the games. The wound is fresh and still sore. Instead we discuss food and as many things as we can that doesn't remind us of home or our terrible fate. I sit between grandma and Chris, with Finnick and Stan opposite. Sometimes I forget where I am but Finnick is practically ignoring me, so it's not hard to remember again.

In the end I take and early night. Crying wears me out much more quickly than usual. I lie in bed for hours, thinking over my situation, but it doesn't help. If anything it makes it worse.

As I'm about to give up hope of all sleep I hear my door open and shut. I roll over and see Finnick standing over me. I shuffle over and he scrambles in, wrapping his arms around me and gently stroking my hair. "I've spoken to Chris."

"And?" I ask.

"Your safe for the moment," He says and then nuzzles into my neck. Yes, I'm safe... for the moment.