Reaping day. When I wake up, I freeze. I have dreaded this day for months, ever since that fateful day when President Snow visited Katniss Everdeen. I have very little chance in the arena. The twist is quadruple tributes, to remind us of how many people died in the dark days. QUADRUPLE! As well as the higher number of tributes there will be a tribute from the family of a previous victor, to remind us that we lose people we love in the games. Thankfully, there will be two victors. Snow decided that it was too much bloodshed, and he wished to have another pair of tributes that will work together, is my guess. My mother has prepared a bath for me. I always go first, being the eldest. On tour day, she refills the bath for all of us. I wash quickly, and dry myself whilst the boys are downstairs. My reaping outfit is a long, dark red skirt, a white blouse and a brown cardigan. It suits me, and complements my figure. The skirt reaches half way down my shins. I have some neat black shoes as well, to go with it. My hair is a shining brown, halfway between my raven-haired Mother, from the Seam, and my blonde Father, from the merchant class. Today my father made us eggs. Eggs! I love boiled eggs, with bread. Especially when they're runny inside. My favourite part is the yolk. My father is a better cook than my mother, but he rarely has time for it – he's out all day doing work usually. But today is a national holiday. I wolf down the eggs, my stomach growling for more. Hollow day today. I've been having them a lot lately. At least I'll eat a lot in the Capitol – and on the train.

"Father, thank you for the eggs! They're delicious!"

"You're very welcome, Lark! Would you mind taking your brothers to the meadow to play for a bit?"

"Of course!"

"I mean all of them, by the way. Rowan can come too."

"Excellent!" I feign happiness, knowing that this may be the last time I see my little brothers. None of them look alike, yet it's easy to tell that we're all related. Ash looks like he just walked out of the seam, straight black haired, olive skin, dark, sarcastic eyes. Count on him to be sarcastic, and more irritable than the rest of us. His bark is worse than his bite, though. Robin has light brown curls, soft brown eyes, and lighter skin. He's very sweet, and everyone loves him. I wish that he was healthier, for he misses out on everything that he should have in his life. He has very few friends, for he's hardly been to school since he was nine. Martin has wild blonde hair and gentle grey eyes, identical to our mother except for the colour of his hair. He works extraordinarily hard at whatever he does, and is an absolute masochist, unable to take his mind off anything that he's trying to complete. I've also never known him tell a lie in his life. Swift is very pale, with dark brown hair. His eyes are steely grey, like Martin's, but with a harder look about them. He wants to be mayor. Not because that's enough. Because that's his best shot at becoming President and ending the Hunger Games. He rarely speaks, usually formulating his political ascent. He certainly has ambitions. I remember one time, I came upstairs and he was pouring over a book with meticulous notes. Upon further inspection, it was a formula for a poisonous perfume that President Snow could spray on his famous stinking roses. Cedar has neat golden hair and dark brown eyes, that spell mischief. One time, in May, he was nearly whipped for taking an apple from a market stand. He says that he was going to put it back later, but I don't know if he was. He's a prankster through and through, naughty and rebellious. We always forgive him though. Rowan has green eyes, surprisingly, and hair that is just a little bit darker than Cedar's. He's a very curious little boy, always wandering off and getting into things. Last week, I found a patch of strawberries in the woods. Obviously, I picked them, and I left them on the kitchen table. Guess who climbed up a chair and was found half an hour later with a moustache of red juice? Rowan. He was curious as to what 'Larky-Woz' had left on the table. Yes, that is his name for me.

Back to the roses, though. The one that Snow gave me still hasn't wilted. I keep it in a cupboard, terrified of it. It is forever lodged in my brain that a white rose means death. It is associated with the threat of the Hunger Games. Sometimes I open the cupboard and look at it. But then I cringe away in fear, and shut the cupboard doors. I can't bring myself to touch it. So believe me when I say that I freak out when a bouquet of white roses, reeking of perfume, is laid on the doorstep of my home, with a note attached. When I am sensible again, I read it.

Lark-Rose 'Lucky' – how does he know my nickname!? – Rivers

Remember

I am chilled. I throw the whole stupid thing onto the fire, where it explodes into flame like a phoenix, a sort of bird that sets itself on fire and can come back to life when it dies. I don't know if I believe the stories about it. Maybe it was an old sort of mutt that the Capitol made a long time ago.

"Come on," I tell my brothers, and they all follow. I carry Rowan in case he wanders off. Cedar drags his feet on the ground, unhappy about the walk, but he brightens up when we arrive.

We run around the meadow, playing tag and hide and seek, for hours. I only just realise that we have to go to the Reaping with half an hour left. We all sprint back to town, where we make a beeline for the square. Robin's blood sample has just been taken when the clock strikes two. Barely made it.

I can see Cedar, Martin and Rowan with Mother and Father. Ash is with the fourteen-year-olds and Robin is with his fellow thirteens. I can see Mrs Everdeen, Mr Mellark, Mrs Mellark, Peeta Mellark's older brothers and Primrose Everdeen. Of course they're being reaped first. You can't have more boys than girls, or vice versa. The mayor finishes his long speech, which has grown insipid over the years. Then, Effie Trinket steps up, in a ridiculous outfit – she is wearing a dress with 3D, silk, orange butterflies. It's absolutely covered in them. She gives her speech about the privilege of being here, which I'm certain is scripted – it never changes – and then says, "Now then! First off, the relatives of the Victors!"

Her gloved hand reaches delicately into the bowl. She pulls out a slip, opens it up, and reads out the name. Impossible. No one volunteers. Mrs Everdeen is frozen, absolutely blank. Katniss is horrified, and tries to run up to do something, only held back by Peeta. Primrose Everdeen. A thirteen-year-old girl, who was already reaped before. But this time no one is going to save her. I vow that I will get her out. Her and me. Against ninety-six other tributes…

A peacekeeper takes away one of the girls' bowls. I could swear that Effie is holding back tears. In her comical Capitol accent, she brightly says, "Well then! Now, as usual, ladies first!" She walks to the first bowl, extends her arm into it, whips out a slip and reads "Helayne Cole!" Helayne walks up to the stage, in a daze. No! Could this day get any worse? She stands next to Primrose, and squeezes her hand. Helayne is kind like that, unafraid to offer comfort.

The next name called out is "Lark-Rose Rivers!" I knew it. I lock eyes with Helayne as I walk up to the stage. At the final bowl for the girls, Effie reads out, "Lark-Rose Rivers! Again… we'll have to pick another slip." Snow really took no chances. The next one is "Lark-Rose Rivers!" again. This goes on and on, where Effie keeps pulling a name out of the third bowl, and it produces my name. The crowd starts to laugh. I look at my mother, and she is horrified. My father is furious. Cedar is afraid, Rowan is confused, and Martin is probably assessing how this helps him get to the Capitol. I meet Ash's eye, and it is filled with rage. And then I look at Robin, and his eyes shine with tears. He is sorry. "Effie?" I say, as she pulls my name out for the sixtieth time. "I think you should try the other bowl. That one's rigged. My name should only be there fifty times."

"How very odd! Well, I'll try it. Jasmi Ember!" Jasmi is a seventeen-year-old girl from the Seam. She only uses her very few braincells around boys. That should tell you all you need to know. She walks up the stage, swaying her hips, standing at an angle which shows off her ripe figure. She does this whilst having a boyfriend, mind you. He loves her for it.

"Now for the gents!" The first name called is Nathan Alloy. He's eighteen, and rather quiet, I think. Then there's Jasmi's boyfriend – how unfortunate, they'll stop at nothing to get out together – Argent Granite. Same age as Jasmi. Next is Sapo Gem. Fifteen and a brute over six feet, but he's an idiot. And then, as Effie Reaps the final boy, my hands fly to my mouth in horror. No! This can't be happening. It was bad enough with Helayne and Prim! "Robin Rivers!" Ash raises his hand to volunteer when I catch his eye and shake my head. He can't be reaped as well as me. The Rivers family might just starve. I know who I will get out, and I know that Helayne will agree with me. Robin and Prim are too young to be brutally killed in the arena. They both have to survive. Then we are all being dragged inside, where we will say our goodbyes.

Robin and I are placed together in a cubicle, with Helayne and Nathan. My mother is weeping as she embraces Robin. My father holds me, stroking my hair. I can feel a tremor in his hand. My siblings all gather round and give us a crushing hug. I tell Ash that he has to feed the family. The Coles promise to help out. Robin is sobbing, Cedar and Martin are holding on to him, I am holding Rowan, and Ash is holding me, and my parents are holding all of us.

As we separate, I say "Mother, Father, I'm going to get Prim and Robin out." My mother reaches out to me, grasping at my hands and pleading. "They're both too young to die. I'll stay alive as long as I can." She seems to understand.

"I'll miss my little helper." My father is only staying sane and calm for the sake of everyone else. I know that he'll weep later.

Cedar says "Stay lucky!" and I understand the joke.

Martin says "Robin? Can you throw a good word in for me?" Robin promises to do so.

Ash says "I'm scared." He will need to hunt by himself now.

Rowan burps, too young to understand the gravity of the situation.

My mother pulls a gold ring, with a beautiful, flamelike ruby off her finger. She only has three rings. That one's always been my favourite. I gasp. "Mother! Surely you aren't giving me this?"

"It's for luck. I know how much you love it. It can be your district token."

My eyes well up with tears. This is a beautiful gesture from her. "Thank you," I say simply. I am touched, and for once, lost for words.

"Robin!" That's Ash. "Here." Ash puts a gold chain with a pendant that matches the ring that matches the ring around Robin's neck. "Dad gave it to me, and now I'll give it to you. Wear it well!"

Robin nods, choked for words. He cannonballs into Ash, and hugs him, nearly pushing him over.

Then we all say 'I love you!' and 'Goodbye!' and 'Good luck' before my family is bundled away by the Peacekeepers and we are all brought onto the train. I am holding Robins hand tightly. I won't cry until he is asleep.