Dreams are terrible little things. Some people don't have them, and some do. Unfortunately for me, I dream often. Almost every night. And I remember all of them. You could call it a blessing, getting to remember all of your dreams...your fun adventures going on inside your head. But mine are anything but fun, because they are all nightmares.

I write about them in a journal to help me cope, but it never works. I don't even know why I do it in the first place. Being forced to watch the Hunger Games, kids killing kids definitely doesn't help. And the Reaping...having to worry about it constantly, even if its several months away. That wasn't the case today...it was the day of the Reaping. Luckily, this was my last Reaping, as I just turned eighteen last month.

But its my brother's first.

"Quill? Honey? Aren't you going to come down for breakfast?" I heard my mother call. Often we don't have enough food for the three of us, and without my mom knowing, I give most of my food to Miles.

I sighed as I put my dream journal down and walk downstairs and into the kitchen. We live in District 8, where we are known for textiles. My mom, Polly, owns her own mending shop where people come to her to fix a piece of clothing. I help around some, but I'm not very good at sewing like my mom and brother.

"Mom, I'm not very hungry..." I said to her, pushing a long, curly hair out of my face. I glance at the table and see that there's two apples and a quarter loaf of bread.

"Quill, you need to eat something..." Mom insisted, gesturing to the table where Miles is downing his share of the food.

"Seriously, mom...I'm not hungry. If anything, my stomach's upset..." Mom sighed and reluctantly nodded. She knew not to keep insisting, as I'm about as stubborn as a mule.

"Then go get ready, then...I have your dress hanging up on your door," I nodded and went back upstairs, grabbing the dress from its hanger. It was the dress mom wore to her last Reaping. She desperately hoped that it give me good luck. I slipped it on and tied my messy, curly hair up into a bun. I also placed a white rose comb in my hair, something else that my mother wore for her last Reaping. I bit my lip and played with the few loose strands of my hair, wishing that this would all go away.

Three hours later came the thing I was dreading. The Reaping. Miles held onto my hand tightly, his eyes wide with fear.
"What if I get reaped?" He asked quietly. I immediately shook my head.
"Its not gonna happen...your name is only in there once. It'd be almost impossible for you to be chosen..." I reassured him. He nodded, and after we checked in we went out separate ways. Gleam, our district's escort, walked onto stage with an over the top outfit on, and her skin dyed lavender. After watching the video that we watch every year, she walked over to the bowl where the girls' names were. Gleam reached in and swirled her hand around before selecting one. She walked back over to the microphone and smiled.
"The female tribute for District Eight is...Quill Sherwood,"

My face paled and my legs started shaking, almost giving up on me. I was dragged up onto the stage, and then when I thought it couldn't get worse...
"The male tribute for District Eight is...Miles Sherwood," I nearly screamed as my brother was forced onto stage, kicking and screaming. He ran over to me and hugged me tightly. I could feel his body shaking violently, and he was sobbing loudly. This had to be a nightmare...any minute I'd wake up and write about it in my journal...right? Gosh, how wrong I was...

I was dragged into the Justice Building and separated from my brother. I was too dazed to fully comprehend what was going on. It wasn't until my mother came rushing in about five minutes later that I finally broke from my daze. We embraced and I held onto her for what felt like centuries...
"What am I going to do?" Mother asked weakly. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, obvious that she had been sobbing. I didn't even know what I was gonna do. I barely have any experience with weapons, I'm not very fast and don't know the basic survival skills. But, I was determined to learn.

We were both coming home.

After the failed rebellion, the Capital created a new rule that stated that two tributes from the same district can become victors...and they couldn't revoke that rule. The last thing they wanted was another rebellion, as they almost lost. If there was another, the districts are sure to win.

After the Capital won, they made examples of the rebels. No one knows what happened to them...whether they were executed, turned into avoxs...no one knows. Snow did die in the war, but once his granddaughter became of age, she became president. She was one of the strictest presidents that Panem has ever seen...until her great grandson came into power. Extra peacekeepers were sent to districts, whippings and hangings became an everyday thing...that's how father died. He attempted to steal a loaf of bread for our family, but was caught and hung. I was only six when this happened, and was forced to watch along with my mother, who was pregnant with Miles at the time.

I looked down at my mother and wiped the tears from her eyes.
"We're gonna win...and that's a promise," Mother choked back a sob, and pulled something out of her pocket.
"Here...this can be your token..." My eyes widened as I see her pull out father's rabbit ring on a necklace chain. The one he would wear everyday.
"Mom, I can't-"
"Yes, you can...and you will..." She placed the necklace on me, and that's when a peacekeeper came in.
"Time's up..." Mom kissed my forehead for possibly the last time and reluctantly left the room. Miles and I were coming home to her...

Because I never break a promise.