A/N: Trigger warning for brief mentions of suicide.

When I wake up, I'm squished against the wall next to the bed. Right, my boyfriend loves cuddling with me. I'm warmly in Charles's arms and I stay there for a bit before kissing him gently on the forehead and wriggling out of the wedge to find a better position on the bed we're sharing. Charles always ends up taking up so much space on his bed when we fall asleep together, even if he doesn't mean to. It's pretty funny.

I pick up my phone from the bedside table, stretching out my muscles a bit as I do so. It's Reaping Day, and I'm going to have to wake up Charles soon so we can take the commuter train to the Reaping together. Hunger Games season will start with the Reaping. I hope that District 4 wins this year, though the whole thing is a needless loss of life. But the Games are in their thirty-first year with no signs of slowing down. At least this is the last year I'm eligible to be chosen as a tribute. Charles, who's sixteen, has a ways to go.

I lean against my sleeping boyfriend as I check my smartphone for updates, being reminded of just how lucky I am, despite the threat of the Hunger Games looming in the background. Smartphones and intranet apps aren't available to everyone in the District, only the wealthy and those who use it for work. My dad is a scientist and my mom is a landlady, and their work makes us very rich by District 4 standards. I wish I could make better use of my family's resources, but a good portion of my parents' income goes towards treating the depression I've had my whole life. Funnily enough, that depression was how I met Charles. About a year and a half ago we were both patients in the same hospital due to suicidal ideation. Guess we found love in a hopeless place.

I'm reminded of how much progress I've made since then, and I remember to take my morning antidepressants. I do so, and then I check Bonfire, a messaging app on District 4's intranet. Since it's Reaping Day, there's more activity than most mornings. Anne, my best friend, has wished me good luck. My younger sister, also named Anne, has also wished me good luck, albeit in a more salty way - she's never really liked Charles, partially because she hasn't met him in person yet so he's right now he's just some dude who takes away her sister's attention. Then there's the friends I know only on the intranet - Four is a relatively large District, and we haven't met in real life yet. This is Vera's first year of being eligible, while others, like Aqua and Elsie, can breathe a sigh of relief if they make it through this year.

With Bonfire accounted for, I check if anyone has reviewed the stories I've posted online - nobody has, but then again I haven't posted anything for a while - and check the news. There isn't much of note, just President Coriolanus Snow promising another successful Hunger Games. I close the apps, tuck my phone in my bag, and get dressed.

When I made plans for today, I decided to bring my Reaping outfit to Charles's place so that I could change and then take the train directly to San Cali, District 4's central hub where Reapings take place. My Reaping outfit, which I've worn for a few years, is a quirky sleeveless white dress with purple highlights and a low neckline. As I put on the dress, I noticed that Charles has awoken.

"Baby," he coos, holding out his arms. "Come back."

"Oh, honey," I murmur lovingly, hugging and kissing my boyfriend.

"Stay and cuddle with me," he says, nuzzling me.

"We can't, we need to go to the Reaping," I sigh, kissing Charles on the nose. "We can cuddle on the train."

"Okay," my boyfriend says, letting go of me and pouting. I smile, my heart fluttering. Cancers. They're so needy, but so sweet. I freaking love them. My best friend, boyfriend, and many other friends are Cancers. Scorpios, on the other hand…

I try to push the thought of Matteo - that charismatic, mysterious Scorpio who has thankfully blocked me - out of my head. There I go again, thinking of the one person that has caused me the most pain. At least I think of him less and less these days. I really, really hope our paths never cross again.

As Charles gets dressed in his Reaping outfit, I distract myself from thoughts of Matteo by making sure everything is packed. I'll have to give my bag to my family to hold onto before I get into position for the Reaping, standing with the other eighteen-year-old females. Even though I'm not a girl. They should really change the Reaping system to make things fairer towards gender non-conforming tributes like me.

"You ready?" I ask Charles as I finish packing.

"Yeah," he says, smiling lovingly at me. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I say, leaning forward to kiss my boyfriend gently on the lips. "We should go."

The Reaping starts at nine in the morning, which is way too early considering that some of District 4's citizens live fairly inland, but we have enough time to get there. On the train, I play Fire Emblem on my Emulator, talk quietly with Charles, and chat with my friends and family on Bonfire. We arrive at San Cali, where almost everyone else is headed, and then take a bus to the Civic Center Plaza, where the Reaping will take place.

"I'll see you after the Reaping, honey," I say to my boyfriend as we disembark.

"I love you," Charles says, kissing me on the lips before going to find his family.

I watch him go for a while before I pull out my phone and let my family know that I've arrived. We meet up with each other, my eleven-year-old sister pouting at me.

"Really picked Charles over your dear family, huh," Anne says loudly.

"Hey, I'm here now," I say with a weak smile. "And I'll hang out with you after the Reaping."

"Remember that we're going to eat out with your grandmother to celebrate that you've survived your last Reaping, Margaret," Mom says.

"Oh no," I groan. "I love Grandma and all, but can't we just go home? I'm gonna be super tired after this is over."

"Come on, we planned this," Dad says, and I sigh because he's right.

"Alright, I'll see you guys after the Reaping. Here," I say, giving my bag to my mother. "I've got everything in it, so don't worry."

"Give me a hug," Mom says, and I oblige.

"I love you Mom," I say.

"I love you, Margaret," Mom murmurs, kissing me on the cheek.

"I love you, Dad," I say before hugging him as well. I turn to my sister. "Still mad at me?"

"I guess not," Anne sighs, "but you'd better take me to meet Charles soon."

"Will do," I say, giving my beloved sister a big hug before saying goodbye to my parents and filing into check-in.

I hate this part. I've always been very sensitive to pain, and though I'm used to getting my blood drawn, the fact that it's alongside the impending dread of the Hunger Games sucks. When it's my turn to get my finger pricked, I close my eyes until I hear the Peacekeeper call "Next". I don't want to look at my finger because it's probably a mess, and I don't suck on it because that's probably unsanitary. I file in with the eighteen-year-old girls, finding my friend Anne in the crowd, and wait for the Reaping to begin.

At nine, the Mayor steps up and starts the event, making his annual speech about Panem and the Hunger Games. It's the same thing every year. Then he introduces Mags Flanagan, the well-liked Victor of the 11th Hunger Games, who will, as always, be mentoring this year's tributes. The District gives its only Victor polite applause before our Escort is introduced.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Zephyr Zhang, a young, bubbly, blue-haired man, chirps into the microphone. Over the years he's gotten less energetic, which I'm thankful for. He used to switch up the Reaping order, sometimes Reaping the male tribute before the female, but he's wisened up. My heart starts pounding in my chest. No matter who gets Reaped, I'll be sad, but what if it's someone I love or worse, me? I'll be screwed if I get thrown into the Games. Unlike Mags, I cannot make a fish hook out of anything. In fact, I can't even fish. What can I do? Be a mediocre pianist? Somehow I think that won't amount to much in the Arena.

"Margaret Zhang!"

A/N: Hi everyone, and welcome to Warriors! This is a canon-compliant fic that tells the story of the 31st Hunger Games, so canon friends like Mags and President Snow will be making appearances. This is going to be my therapy fic, so I'd really appreciate it if you could keep in mind that I'm writing this story to improve my mental health.

This story is also a partial SYOT! Here's how it's going to work: I'll let readers submit twelve of this story's twenty-four tributes. Every slot is available for submission other than the District 4 Female slot. I'll accept twelve reader-submitted tributes and create the remaining tributes. Because this story is entirely from Margaret's point of view, reader-submitted tributes won't win.

I'm not too picky about how you get the tribute form to me, as long as it's done by Monday, May 8th, 2023. This story is not first-come-first-served, and you may submit as many tributes as you want.

EDIT May 8th, 2023: This story is now closed, and I'd like to thank everyone for coming through with tribute submissions from the bottom of my heart. The tribute list and more story information can be found on the story blog, which I will post with the next chapter. I will include most story information on the blog because I want the story itself to have the feel of the Hunger Games novel.

Chapter question: What are your first impressions on Margaret?

Thanks for reading, and have a great day!