"Come on, Fawn, the reaping is starting soon." My father's voice is stern to her, but his eyes watch me. We have to leave early this year- it's Fawn's first year in the bowl, and I have to be onstage. I'm safe this year, but Fawn is not.

"Fine." Fawn puts her notebook on the table, standing up. "Let's go."

No pouting this year. Last year she was so reluctant, even though she didn't have her name in at all. This year, she complies as if she hadn't a care in the world.

I've been ready the past hour. I couldn't sleep. Medni sent my clothes yesterday- although he made no impression on me last year, besides seeming somewhat aloof, he opened up considerably after I won. He's engaged to a young man in the Capitol, who he's promise to introduce me to if I have free time during my mentorship. Considering that Claudia, Clyde, and Lycidas will also be there, I doubt I'll be too busy after the bloodbath. Our tributes don't live long.

Claudia wanted to take some of the pressure off me, but Lycidas had forbid Amber from mentoring again after last year- but it doesn't matter now, she's dead. The forbidding was something about not being able to keep a tribute alive past a day with her bad advice. And too much flirting, that was also mentioned. She would have had more time to spend with her many lovers in the Capitol this year- could have been a potential rival to Finnick Odair at that rate. Never mind it now.

I'm not pretty enough to be sought after by the men of the Capitol. I considered it an insult at first, but Claudia told me to stop talking about it.

Clyde is our token drunken mentor. Claudia had planned on replacing him as a mentor with Amber, but that didn't work out. Now it's me, and I get to have my first go on a Quarter Quell.

The twist on the games is a wicked one. I don't remember the exact reasoning for it, something about weakness, but the Capitol wishes only to take our ill and dying this year. Perhaps to take them off our hands, although we have considerably less here after the Parcel Days started.

Fawn is considered sick. She isn't usually, just bad timing for her asthma to flare up, but the mayor decided that they didn't have enough people for the reaping and anyone that even looked sick had to enter. A quota to fill. Her name is in only once, but with the disproportionate amount of young ones entered (illness tends to kill before adolescence hits), I'm not sure how the scale is tipped.

I take a minute to look us over as we head out the door- Fawn in a new dress, not the flowy pink one she wore for years. I'd say it was a coincidence that she got her puberty growth spurt just after I won, but it's more likely due to having more to eat. My mother and father in fine clothes. I trusted them enough to allow them to handle some of my winnings, and I'm glad to see that they took care of themselves. Even with the lack of blood relation, they still raised me.

And then there is me. While I declined the prep team's offer to darken my hair last year, I permitted them this time. Distancing myself from Amber's image wasn't the sole motive. I stand out enough now that I don't need my hair to help things along.

When Madelle saw, she laughed and told me that foxes come in auburn.

I walk with my family to the square. We're closer than most, coming from Victor's Village, but still early. Claudia wanted to be there earlier then most, and Lycidas arrived yesterday. I'll meet them on stage. And the mayor, the shrewd woman who unknowingly put my sister in the bowl. She could have been safe for a year.

"Fenna!" The weedy voice coming from across the street belongs to Wilda. The girl who actually is sick. The girl who should have died in the Games last year had I not thrown my life away to repay a debt. The girl who I risked my life for.

I wave, but don't look over. I do not want conversation with her or Madelle today. All I want is to keep Fawn's name from getting called and to make it onto the train in one piece.

I hug her and my parents goodbye. I won't see them for a month at least. The week of training in the Capitol, and then the actual time in the arena, which has been known to run for weeks on end. I'm sure I won't be mentoring for most of it.

Claudia and Clyde already have their seats on stage. I join them.

"Excited?" Lycidas whispers. I flinch away, but manage a weak smile.

Claudia catches sight of my face. "Sit," she hisses. "You have to look happy. Appearances matter."

Not really. "Sorry," I whisper, and hold the smile on my face. "Do we have to do anything?"

"You've been to the reapings before," she answers, scowling. "Just don't make a fool of yourself. Leave that to Clyde." She grins, and for a minute I see the woman who helped me stay alive. Not the cold victor who greeted me as an equal.

There are five chairs on the stage. One for the mayor. One for the escort. Three for the victors. And then the two glass bowls, emptier than usual but still with the names.

At ten o'clock, the mayor stands and begins to go through the rituals. The history. The victors. And then Lycidas takes his turn and greets District Five.

"I'm so excited to be the escort for your district once again. It's such an honor. I can tell it's going to be another great year!"

Mild applause. They're happy for the parcels we have coming in due to me. But Rift was from here too, and he's gone. I don't think anyone blames me for his death- there was no precedent for us to be allies, and I had nothing to do with him. But the fact that his death is glossed over does not escape me.

I try not to look at the groups of kids in the pens. Some have crutches, others are coughing. Some are off in space, and a few are babbling to themselves. It's a pathetic arrangement. But Fawn is off in the corner, standing straight but her head down.

"Ladies first!" It's a tradition. Lycidas ruffles through the bowl, grabbing a name. He scans it quickly and leans into the microphone- "Fawn Wick!"

No. No. No no no no no. Her name was only in once, there was almost no chance. I want to say something, to protest, and I'm about to do something drastic before the twist of a camera zoom stops me. Half the cameras are on Fawn now. Half on me.

I catch her eyes and try my best at an encouraging nod, but her eyes are brimming with tears. I don't even want to see the state my parents are in. Two children gone off to the arena. The odds of both returning? It happened in District One, but it's different there.

She mounts the steps but won't look at me. I'm only feet away, but Fawn has her back to me. "Any volunteers?" Lycidas must recognize her. He knows all too well who she is, and so does everyone else.

No one is speaking up. There is no one to volunteer for her. She's not even really sick, maybe she'll have a better chance. And I'll be able to help her too. Maybe we can get her out of this-

"I volunteer!" I can't tell where the voice is coming from until the girl steps out of the pens and dashes to the stage. Her thick blonde hair is a mess, but I recognize her. The wheezing voice, the constant battle for breath. The thin frame and the secondhand clothes.

Lycidas beams, and guides her to the mike. "What's your name, dear?"

"Wilda Warrender."

AN: Hey guys. Sorry for such the long wait, but I've had such so little inspiration. Merry Christmas! So for most of this book, there is a Writers Games going along with it- the alternate 75th hunger games. Still a few spots left if you want to sign up.