This is no ordinary Hunger Games. This is the reason that Quarter Quells exists. This is the year when Pony Lyfus was reaped.

I yawn and strech my arms, only to hit my sister, Fivey. I scramble out of bed before she can reataliate. Her elbows are sharp.

I prepare for the tornado of harsh words that I get when I awake her before she has to get up. Instead, she just stares at me.

My sister is beautiful. Midnight-black hair, and amber eyes. And skin as pale as snow. It's a rarity to have pale skin in District Eleven. Afterall, we get tan from working in the sun all day.

But not Fivey. No, and don't ask how she got her name.

I think Mother was on drugs when she named her.

It doesn't matter, because Mother died giving me birth. I never met her. We live with our Father and while he's kind. He's kind of...distant.

I'm twelve today, and Fivey's nineteen. As soon as she's out of the Reaping, I'm in it.

She's a wreck about it, "Your first reaping." She said last night. Then she burst into tears.

"I'm-so-sorry!" She had gasped between tears.

When I asked her why, she said because I had to live here. I don't understand, where else would I go? Panem is the only existing country from the disasters twenty-six years ago.

I know the date exactly, because that's all my teacher talks about in school.

Now that Fivey's awake, she'll start obsessing over how I look, trying to make me look perfect. Which is a hard task, since I have brown hair, green eyes, and black hair. Nothing like her.

Still, she says even if my outside isn't beautiful, at least my inside is.

How stupid.

Great, she's getting up, "Up, up up! Let's go get breakfast, and prepare you for your first reaping!" She's trying to smile, but failing greatly.

"Fine, but I'm picking the outfit." Her fake smile falls, and she nods wearily.

"I'm hungry, let's get breakfast." She bounds out of our shared room in our tiny little hut.

You see, we're not rich. Or even well-off. We're poor. Very. At least we have food half the time, sometimes, we go to bed hungry.

I sigh and follow her out the door, hoping that Father got us some yummy food for the Reaping Day.

Wait, did I introduce myself? No? I'm so terribly sorry! How rude!

Hello, my name is Pony Lyfus. I technically killed my Mother, but my Father and sister still love me to pieces. Today's my first reaping. I've been training all my life and today, I'm going to volunteer!

Not. I've never had training and I'd die before I ever volunteer for those "games."

Sounds like a fun game too. Killing innocent children. Fun!

"Oh, look Pony! Father got us butter! And bread!" Fivey is an optimist, I should've said that earlier. My bad.

"Fivey, it's made from tessarae grain. It's not good." I roll my eyes and grab a piece. I try to eat it, but I don't have an appetite.

"Come on Pony, you have to eat something!" Great, there she goes again, blabbing on about how a healthy diet is a healthy life.

I swear, I love my sister, but sometimes, I wish she'd shut it.

Thankfully, once Father comes in, she does. I sigh in relief.

"Hey girls! Fivey, why are you just eating butter without bread? That's not very healthy. Pony, the Reaping's in an hour, you should go get ready. Even if you're not getting picked." Ah, yes, I'm almost positive you know where Fivey got her optimism.

I sure resent it. Father says I take after my Mother's personality and his looks. Fivey's the exact opposite. She has Father's personality and Mother's stunning looks.

I sometimes wish I was pretty like Mother and Fivey. I glance towards the only picture of Mother we own. She's holding me, and Fivey and Father are also there. That was right after I was born, and after she named me.

She had died right after.

"Oh, Father, Pony, I just met the most wonderful boy yesterday, he's so handsome. He has hair to match mine, and his hands." She sighs "They're so soft! He's the one! I know it!"

I furrow my brow, "So...let me get this straight...because he has nice hair and soft hands, he's the one?"

Fivey looks at me like I've grown another head, "Pony! He also has very stunning eyes and is super smart!"

I roll my eyes. "What's his name?"

"I-I-It's a secret! Yeah!" Fivey looks rather proud of herself for coming up with this.

I shake my head and continue to nibble on my bread. Noticing this, Fivey grabs my hand and rips me away from my wonderful chair and flies to our room. "Okay, Pony. Go ahead, pick your outfit!"

I stare at her for a minute wondering exactly what's wrong with her before turning to our meager clothes storage area. I sift through them until I find a black shirt with a black skirt. I nod and show Fivey, who gasps in horror and takes charge of me.

Thirty minutes later, I don't recognize myself. I'm wearing a light pink dress with a pair of pink flats that were my Mother's. Fivey pinned my hair up into an extragavant twist on top of my head and secured it with the most esquisite butterfly pin. Then, she dusted red powder on my cheeks, giving them a rosy glow. I stare at myself in the little mirror on the vanity we own.

"Wow." I breathe.

"I know, I know. I did an amazing job, I'm the best sister ever, blah blah blah..." Fivey continues talking about how she tried to frame my face with a brush or something. I'm not really listening to her.

"Girls, come on, we're going to be late if we don't go right now." Then Father catches sight of me, and gasps, "Wow, Pony, you look...beautiful."

"I know! I'm so proud of myself! I did such a good job! Father, what did you say about being late? We better get a move on! Let's go!" Then Fivey's herding us out the door and off the the square.

I see on the stage the mayor, escort and the two mentors are already there. So are most of the people. We sign in and I head off to the Twelve section while Father and Fivey walk over to the area where people who aren't eligible for the reaping stand. As I'm taking my place next to a nice girl named Lilah, the escort taps the microphone, "Ahem, hello District Eleven! How are we today?" Everyone yells things like, 'just get on with it!' so the escort, who's name is Carliu frowns and walks over to the girl's reaping ball.

"Ooh! We have an interesting name this year!" I'm pleading him to just get on with it, as my stomache is in knots and I feel like throwing up, so he finally says it and I actually do throw up, "Our tribute this year is...Pony Lyfus!"