Fun Fact of the Chapter: The whole district-culture thing about Greek myths and fairy tales comes from the fanfics of aimmyarrowshigh, who did such an amazing job fleshing out her universe that I felt obligated to steal from it just so I could mention it in my A/Ns.

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Briana Renay Geers, District Seven

There's a story we like to tell, here in Seven. It's a strange, old story that really doesn't fit in with the rest of our folklore, but it's my favorite one. It's about a goddess-huntress who stays eternally young and defends the wilderness and its people with her arrows, a girl named Artemis.

A newer part of the legend says that Artemis trained the rebel Katniss Everdeen and went into hiding when she died. It says that, when Artemis comes back, she will train another girl in her huntress ways and bring her into the Games to bring down the Capitol.

Understandably, the Peacekeepers don't particularly like this legend. That's why we don't tell it around them.

I'm a huntress, so this story is particularly dear to my heart. I go out into the woods each night with a hunting knife, a crude homemade bow and arrows, and my best friend A.J. We're both only 12 years old, but we've been doing it since we were six. In Seven, my momma likes to say, they make sure you grow up fast.

A.J. and I were out there last night, bringing down a few rabbits, which we divided up among us. A.J. sees well in the dark, much better than I do, but I'm good at trap-setting and finishing off the game once A.J. has them wounded. I try not to think much about the fact that I'm taking a life, mostly because I'm so hungry.

We talk afterward, quietly so the Peacekeepers can't hear us. It's our first reaping, both of us, and despite being among the toughest hunters of Seven, we're both scared out of our wits. Maybe it's the dark, night air or the eerie sounds of the woods, but there's a chilling sense of foreboding when A.J. says to me, "What if one of us gets picked?"

Now, in the light of day, that all seems silly. If I got picked—which is unlikely, compared to all the older kids who take tesserae for their large families—I would just use my hunting skills to get out. I know how to work several weapons and hunt and set traps, which is more than most kids my age can say. The only people I'll have a problem with are the Careers, and if I stay out of their way and let them finish each other off...

...then I'm out of the Games. Simple, right? All I have to do is survive, which is what I do best.

Our reaping takes place late in the morning, so I have a rare chance to sleep in. I manage to get a few more hours of sleep before Mom calls at me to wake up and get dressed. I slip on an old dress that Maria wore a few years ago, lace up my hunting boots and walk downstairs.

It's an unusually quiet morning. We're all nervous about the reaping, so we don't talk much. Just eat, brush hair, wash up, and head out. I meet A.J. a few blocks away and we veer off to the 12-year-olds section.

"Bri?" A.J. finally says to me as we settle down into the crowd. "Good luck."

"You too, A.J.," I say, and squeeze his hand. We're not in love or anything, just really close best friends, even closer since that incident in the woods five years ago... Anyway, the thought of possibly losing him to the Games is unbearable.

"Happy Hunger Games, District Seven, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" pipes the escort, Aliena Candlewick. She laughs quickly for no reason at all, and then continues, "So, let's pick our lucky girl, shall we?"

"Lucky indeed," I mutter to A.J., mostly to hide my growing nervousness.

The escort nods, laughs again, and then draws the first little piece of paper she touches from the glass bowl. "Briana Geers!"

Oh-

That's me. Briana Renay Geers. Bri for short. Bri, who won't go down without a fight.

I walk up to the stage, trying to look calm when inside I'm a desperate mess trying to piece everything together. Why is this happening? What will happen to me? But, in the end, I manage to make it work and even give a little eyebrow raise to the cameras. There. Let them figure that out.

Aliena claps her hands and laughs yet another time, flouncing over to the other side of the stage to pick the boy's name. Che Botill, a 17 year old boy who goes to my school and is one of my brother Kyle's friends, is picked. He's a big boy, and sturdy too, and as he walks to the stage he bursts into a big smile. At first this disturbs me, and then I remember Kyle talking about how he's a joker and he never means any of the creepy things he says. But still...

We head off to the Justice Building, to say goodbye to our families. I promise them all that I'll try my hardest to come home, but it still isn't enough to keep them from crying. I have to stay strong for them. I have to protect them, like Artemis...

A.J. comes in after my family leaves. We sit there in silence for a few minutes, like at the reaping only more poignant this time. Eventually he says, "Shoot straight, Bri. Come home for me."

"I'll try."

"More than try, Bri. You have to want it more than anything else in the world. Think of your dad. Don't just win for me or your family-win for your dad."

This gives me pause. A.J. usually never mentions my dad because he knows it's the one thing that upsets me. My dad, who went out into the woods at the wrong time. My dad, who I watched die. Who I watched get stabbed by a man I never knew, as A.J. and I hid in the bushes, unable to do anything. "Mr. Geers?" ... "Who is this?"... I can't even remember the name, but I know he said it.

Come home to avenge your dad, Bri. Win for him, kill the others like you wished you killed that murderer...

Suddenly I'm reminded not of Artemis in her protector form, but in her angry form, her vengeful form. One man saw her bathing and laughed; she turned him into a deer and hunted him down, killing him with an arrow to the neck. There was another goddess, too, the patroness of revenge... Nemesis.

I will be Artemis and Nemesis, the protector and the killer. I will go into the Hunger Games and I will kill. I'll do anything it takes.

"Thank you, A.J." It's barely a whisper.