Gotta finish reapings, gotta finish reapings... another shorter one, but I'm pressed for time.

Fun Fact of the Chapter: A "caprice" is a type of musical piece... specifically, one that has no set form.

…..

Caprice Alexander, District Eleven

"Caprice Alexander!"

With my pale skin, amber eyes, and fiery-red hair, I stand out in this District Eleven crowd. So it's easy for the cameras to lock on me as soon as my name is called. Caprice Alexander. I can see my face projected against the large screen that is the backdrop of the stage.

And for a moment, I'm scared. Truly, utterly consumed by terror; so frightened that I can't think of anything else. I can feel it in every fiber of my being, that fear, that panic that won't go away...

Immediately, I shove it down, back into the depths of my mind. Okay, Caprice, think. Form a strategy. There's no time to be scared now. Go. Go! But somewhere, deep down, I know that it's useless, and the panic still clings to my skin as I make my way, step after step, up to the stage.

"You are Caprice?" the escort confirms solemnly, and I nod, not saying anything lest my voice crack and betray the painful emotions bubbling up to the surface. He turns to the crowd and asks for volunteers. Nobody comes up. Nobody ever, in the history of District Eleven, has come up to volunteer, and this year is no different.

"I believe we have our female tribute, then. Caprice Alexander."

The wave of emotion is starting to subside now, clearing out of my brain to come back another day. I look around at the pressing crowds and at the cameras trained on them, thinking hard, as the escort picks the boys' name. I don't know him—there's not a great chance I would, seeing how big our district is—but he looks strong enough, if mediocre in other regards. Cameron Ray, who is going into these Games with me. There are no volunteers for him, either.

In the Justice Building, my parents come and go, bringing their goodbyes with them. I don't have many friends, so they're allowed to stay with me until the end of the hour. I try to remain stoic for them, but they don't understand. They keep asking me how I feel; I keep telling them that it's not important, that I will overcome these Games, no matter what happens.

"Caprice..." breathes my mother, unable to say more than just my name over and over.

"I promise," I repeat. "I will overcome the Hunger Games. I'll hang in there as long as I can."

"But Caprice..." She lets out a sob. "...can you win?..."

This gives me pause, and I tilt my head. Shouldn't she know by now? I'm not about winning, or surviving, or anything. I'm about conquering myself. I thought she knew...

"Mother, I'll try," I say quietly. "But know that as long as I stay ahold of myself, I've won."

Father, who has been standing beside me, strangely quiet, says, "Caprice. Don't you go on with all that 'I'll only come home if I can do it unchanged' thing. The Hunger Games change everyone."

I shake my head and smile lightly. "I'm not resisting change. But I'm not going to lower myself to the level of animals just so I can win."

Father sighs and shares a significant glance with Mother. "Morals," he mutters under his breath. "High and mighty morals. That's what get people killed, Caprice."

I lower my head, and say nothing. For a moment, I can feel the sadness coming back in a frenzied craze, but I push it down. I won't let it happen. I won't let my crazes take over me. They never understood that, did they?

"We love you, baby..." says Mother in a hushed whisper. "Always remember that we love you... and we'd do anything to have you back."

I hug them tightly until the Peacekeepers tell us that it's time to go. They leave, and the escort comes to bring me and Cameron Ray to the train station. I try to look quietly thoughtful for the cameras—nothing that will stand out too much, but something to let them know that I'm strong, in a slippery, quick sort of way. Perhaps they'll notice and want to sponsor me, though that obviously isn't my goal.

My mother always said that I was a strange girl headed for a strange destiny. She was right—or, at least, I'm going to prove her right. I'll master myself in these Games. I'll hold onto my identity, whatever the cost may be. I am Caprice Alexander, the strange girl with a low fire in her, and I will stay in control.

Remember me for that.