The sun rises over District One. The day everyone has been waiting for has finally arrived: Reaping Day. Two teenagers will be selected or volunteered to go into the brutal Hunger Games. Everyone is anxious to volunteer to avoid shame being brought upon their family. So that leaves the question out in the open: who will be fast enough to volunteer? In District One, speed is key because most everyone strives to go into the Games and slaughter anyone in their way. For Jewels Haughback, she knows she's not the fastest one around, but she is determined to volunteer regardless.

Jewels Haughback is nothing short of perfect, or at least, she believes that and is convinced everyone in Panem agrees with her. Could one blame her? Her light brown hair is always in perfect placement, not one hair out of line, her skin is free of any scratches, scars, or markings, and her green eyes, as gorgeous they are, always seem to sparkle when the rays of the sun hit them or when something goes her way. So is she really selfish? Possibly, but she doesn't like to reflect on that fact. Oh no, the only fact she is focusing on today is that she will be volunteering for the Hunger Games and there is no way she is going to let her slowness take her down again. She has been waiting for this day since she turned twelve five years ago, and, deep within her stomach, she has a feeling that today will be the day.

She wakes up to the sun in her face that Reaping morning of her seventeenth year. A smile slowly creeps onto her face as she realizes exactly what is happening today. As she sits up, she turns to the clock on her wall. Three hours. Just three hours until she seals her fate and makes her father proud of her. Just to have a child volunteer is a glory itself, it's not as marvelous as your child winning, but it's incredible nonetheless.

Jewels hops out of her bed and walks downstairs. A Victor has to eat, she thinks to herself with a grin. She laughs to herself a bit. Don't get ahead of yourself Jewels, you haven't even volunteered yet. Despite her mental scolding, Jewels couldn't help but admire the idea of winning. This year was going to be the year she did something incredible and make both of her parents proud of her.

As she grabs some food from the fridge, some simple assorted berries, she hears footsteps walking up to her. Immediately, she knows who it is for there could only be one other person it could be. Her father reaches around her and grabs a glass so he can fill it up with whatever he decided to drink that morning, which would most likely be water. The silence between the two could kill. A father-daughter relationship should be a close one but theirs was just mediocre. With him constantly working and she always training or being with her friends, their paths hardly ever cross. Jewels decides to take the initiative and break the silence that lingers.

"I'm going to do it," she states. She doesn't need to go into full description about what she's going to do, for her father already knows. Ever since her mother died, she had talked about going into the Games, winning, and bringing happiness back to their little family.

"You sure about this, Jewels?" her father questions.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life." she responds sharply. She inwardly winces a bit at her harsh, quick voice.

"If you think you can do it, then do it. I don't doubt you'll try. Just," he paused, not sure if he should dare to continue,"stay safe when you're in there, okay? I-I don't want to lose you too."

That simple statement was enough to shock Jewels. She never realized that her father was dreading this day. A tiny pit of guilt filled her gut, but she pushed it down. Guilt would only make her back out which is something she would most definitely not do. She turned to him, popped a berry in her mouth, chewed, swallowed hard, and said,"You won't lose me. I'm going to win, remember?"

"I have no doubts that you will," was all he said before he walked out of the kitchen, leaving Jewels to her thoughts.

On the other side of District One resides Cian Zaniec, the closet genius. Typically the genius males and females reside in the District best known for technology, District Three. Cian Zaniec is less than typical though. With a strong passion for something greater than just throwing knives or swinging a sword, he found a great interest in anything mental. Numbers, facts, history, Cian loves it all. He could name off the top of his head precisely how tall the Justice Building is without any measuring devices whatsoever or he could tell you the percentage of brainwashed people in Panem, meaning those who think the Hunger Games is absolutely amazing. But, much to his distaste, knowledge doesn't always let you win the Hunger Games. Strategy sure, but if you don't know to handle a weapon or defend yourself, you can pretty much consider yourself dead already.

That morning, he is up early reading another one of his books from his bookshelf. He's read them all so many times that if he doesn't gingerly turn the pages, they'll fall out. But they haven't fallen out yet, so he just keeps on reading them until the inevitable happens and he's forced to find some way to reattach it.

He wasn't sure how long he was sitting on his bed reading, already in his Reaping clothes, until he heard a soft knock on his door. He mumbled his consent for whoever it was to come in. As he put down his book, his dark blue eyes traveled up to see his younger sister, Georgia, walk in. She was one of the only people who knew of his obsession with the human mind and his thirst to discover what it was capable of holding and knowing.

"What do you need?" he asked plainly.

"Today's the day." Georgia responded.

"Yeah, it is," he paused,"Are you scared?"

"No, I'm not. Besides, someone would volunteer for me if I got Reaped. You shouldn't be scared either," she smiled.

"I'm only in there, what, five times? And there must be at least 163 slips in there because everyone knows that getting tesserae here is useless because practically everyone is rich enough to bleed money so that leaves at a...3.06% chance of being Reaped?" Cian explained. His face was still scrunched up in thought, double-checking his mental math.

"That's pretty low. You sure you did your mental math right?"

"Are you questioning my knowledge?"

"Quite frankly, yes I am. There's no way you only have a 3% chance of being Reaped."

"It's a 3.06% chance, and besides, it's just a rough estimate. How am I suppose to know how many slips they slide into the jars each year?"

"Well you are the genius of District One. I don't see why you just don't get up, pack your bags, and head over to District Three where your brain could actually be needed."

"And leave you here with dad? No way."

"That's right, I forgot, you're too nice for that," Georgia snickered. The smug smile she gave him was enough for him to became irritated at her presence and begin wishing she would just leave him to his thoughts and books.

"Can you go away now? I'm trying to read," Cian said,"Besides, your stay here has exceeded its extent."

"Alright alright. But we're leaving soon. Hopefully your 3.06% won't be in your favor and you won't be Reaped." And with that, Georgia left the room. What Cian knew that Georgia didn't was that the current 18 year-old teenagers were all unprepared to fight and were more than likely not to volunteer. He knew, deep down, that no one would be volunteering from the males unless they wanted to go on a suicide mission. Boy did Cian wish for his 96.94% to be in his favor.

The Reaping was crowded as usual. Teenagers of all ages eagerly went to get signed in and hop into their age sections. Jewels was one of the first few people there, a smile plastered onto her face in anticipation. Her friends weren't there around her for they lined up in order of arrival time as well as by age, so Jewels was in the front line for seventeen year-old girls. Eagerness filled every bone in her lean body. Come on let's just get the show on the road already, she mentally begged those onstage.

They must have been mind-readers, for as soon as the thought left her mind, the District escort walked onstage. The attention of the audience traveled about from the flamboyant man in bright magenta to the television screen which had shown the history of Panem, and then back to Mr. Magenta who looked more than excited to get the Reaping portion started.

His pale, perfect hand reached into the deep glass and began fishing through the slips to find the perfect one. He must have been fishing around for about a minute until a smile of content filled his face and he said,"This one: this is the perfect one."

He showed off the "perfect" slip for a moment before opening it slowly. He raised his eyebrows and said in his perky voice,"Lucretia-"

"I volunteer!"

It took Jewels a moment to realize that she had just spoken aloud. She hadn't felt herself talking until she heard her voice ring out around her. That's when the excitement dam broke inside her and washed away all of the anticipation she had felt not even a minute before. A great smile grew on her face as she began strutting up to the stage. Her perfect life was going perfectly once again.

"And who might you be?"

"Jewels Haughback," the girl, now standing next to Mr. Magenta, had said with her head high, a great smile playing on her lips.

Cian Zaniec recognized the tall girl on stage. No doubt, she was beautiful and could capture any man with her perfect smile, but Cian couldn't help but notice that the aura she gave off was one of selfishness and overconfidence. Brat was 100% the perfect word to describe her but he would never dare say this aloud. Like Georgia had said earlier, he was too nice to do that. So, like the good boy he was, he simply kept up his dumb act that he had put on for his entire life.

"Beautiful! Now, on to the boys."

Cian felt his stomach twist. Would the odds be in his favor?

"Cian Zaniec!" he heard be called out.

Nope. The odds never seemed to be in his favor.

He bit his lip hard as he realized that he should head to the stage to take his place next to Jewels, who was officially his District partner. He kept selfishly praying for that suicidal volunteer to just volunteer already. He couldn't go into the Hunger Games! He wasn't prepared physically nor mentally. But as silence filled the air around him and no one volunteered, he knew he had to begin accepting the facts like he always had done and to realize that he was staring death right in the face.

And death wasn't a pretty sight.

"Let's give a hand for our two tributes!" Mr. Magenta exclaimed with a smile too bright to be humane.

Cian hadn't even noticed that he had made it to the stage until his mind was interrupted by the strange man next to him. If he was just going to keep zoning out, then his usual dumb act wouldn't be that hard to do and keep up.

Applause had erupted for a minute and stayed even as they walked away to say their final goodbyes. The sound proof door, once closed, blocked out any remaining applause that continued. Both tributes were lost in their minds, one in secret excitement and one in secret fear.

There was no going back now.

And there we have it, after what feels like 20 years, the story has officially begun! So this will be the basic format for any upcoming chapters, mainly Reapings. I must have proofread this chapter five times before actually getting the courage to post it. I've been really scared of feedback, but I'd really like everyone to review so I know what you think about all of this. Any criticisms, praise, or suggestions are welcome wholeheartedly because heaven knows there's always room for improvement. Not sure when I'll post the next Reaping Chapter, but I would like to write one more Reaping Chapter before posting another chapter. Honestly, that shouldn't be too far off. My guess would be that I'll probably post again this weekend of early next week.

Seeing as this Author's Note is getting long, I'm just going to leave my thoughts here.
Hope you liked the chapter! Be sure to review before you leave this story. I leave you with a Latin phrase for this chapter (FYI, I will probably do this for every chapter because I'm a geek).

In bello parvis momentis magni casus intercedunt ("In war great events are caused by small things")