A/N: I want to thank my friend who I shall call Tink for pointing out I've been spelling Capitol the wrong way. Stupid Ravenclaw... KIDDING! I love you Tink!

Flore Delaruse POV

Something moves in the distance. My immediate reaction is to pull out my blowgun, but I know I should wait until it gets a little closer, or I'll miss and it will run away. I can't let our food run away now can I?

I've had to support Issa and Delanoy ever since mom and dad were killed. My parents did something really bad to tick off the peacekeepers. I never did find out exactly what it was that they did. All I remember, is being called into the square to watch my parents be murdered. Whatever they did, it must have been bad.

I don't think illegally hunting holds the death penalty, right? District 12 doesn't really have a lot of punishments. Well, we are supposed to. But since almost all of us are suffering poverty because the Capitol doesn't treat us right. So nobody really minds the hunting, it gets us food doesn't it?

Hunting was something I knew I could do. After my parents died, I made myself a blowgun and set off. I've gotten pretty good since then. I get food on the table every night, and that's good enough for me.

I block little Issa's eyes as the man in the white uniform begins the procedure. Tears run down my face, I'm asking myself why. The man slowly raises the whip, and I scream out to them...

I hear something in the bushes. I'm startled. So I grab my weapon and point it in that direction. Something is coming towards me. I hear the sound of it making noises. There is two of them, and they seem to be communicating. I quickly lower my blowgun and duck for cover, as the arrow just misses my forehead.

It's almost as if I can hear the next one approaching. I roll across the ground as fast I can only to feel a sudden jolt of pain in my left arm.

"Stop!" I call out, "What do you think you are doing!"

The arrows stop, and I hear a voice cuss under their breath. More hunters, who seemed to mistake me for pray. I look over at my arm. It's not too big of a cut, the arrow just seemed to brush past my arm, leaving a trail behind.

I soak up the blood with my sleeve and rise to my feet. I look up to the boys that had almost murdered me like another victim in the games.

Zachary Shaeffer POV

"I am so sorry! Are you alright? I didn't hit you did I?"

The girl looked at me emotionless, clutching her arm in her sleeve. "I'm fine," she said, "Just watch where your pointing that thing. I was almost ready to shoot you back."

"We promise we will keep our distance from your hunting area next time," said Dylan, "We just wanted to get some good meat before tonight. You know, after the reaping."

"The reaping is today?" shouted the girl, almost as if she wanted to steer off our game, "I got to go. You guys should too unless you want to get whipped. I'm Flore, nice meeting you guys." The girl fled out of the woods.

"She's right Zack," said Dylan, "We better get going."

Me and Dylan fled from the forest as fast as we could. The last thing we wanted was to be late for the reaping. The Capitol can hurt you, I know. My brother was executed just for being friends with somebody who said bad things about them in the mines.

Me and Dylan have been hunting for a long time now. It's a family thing. My dad made me and my best friend bows and we began hunting with him. Of course we realize it's illegal, but we have support my sisters and even my mother.

Mom's not to happy about all the hunting I do. She doesn't seem to realize we would all be dead if it wasn't for me and dad doing this. She needs to accept it.

Me and Dylan got home and got dressed for the reaping. I wear my black collared shirt with a leather jacket, worn jeans, and boots. Then I head off to the square, with my two sisters, where we signed in. After taking my spot, the ceremony begins.

The video plays and the crowd watches in silence. I hate the Capitol. They killed my brother and many more innocent people, it's horrible. I can't stand watching the reaping. The poor kids loosing their lives for the idiots that run this country. It makes me sick.

The girls name is about to be called. The tiny slip of paper is unfolded and the name is shouted.

"Issa Delaruse!"

A young girl, a year younger than me, makes her way up to the stage. Suddenly a voice raises from the crowd. A volunteer. And it's the girl I nearly killed in the forest.

"My name is Flore Delaruse, and I would like to volunteer as tribute."

Flore is directed to the stage where she looks down at her grieving sister. Flore hunts, she may stand a chance.

"Now let's find out which you man will be joining you!"

The woman reaches for the second globe, grabbing thee name tightly as if it was her source of life, never letting go. Slowly, the paper is unfolded to reveal the last name to be reaped into the pool of tributes in the 33rd Annual Hunger Games.

"Zachary Shaeffer!"