Once, when I was walking home from school in the winter, it was so cold my arms and legs had gone numb. I had to sit under three blankets for a good thirty minutes before I got any feeling back in my limbs.

That's how I feel now, numb and cold, as if ice is creeping through me, solidifying me in place. The couple of kids around me shift to form a sort of circle, leaving me in clear view as I stand, rooted in spot. I see movement, and it's Simon, all the way across the square where those non-eligible for the reaping stand. His face is pale and his arms hang stiff at his side, but he raises his hand and makes a little gesture towards the stage.

'Show them you're strong, Ry' he mouths, and that triggers something inside of me. The ice shatters and I can move again, so I do, walking as steadily as I can through the crowd of kids, all which part like the red sea. I step out of the roped off area for those eligible into the wide, empty space directly in front of the stage. I have to take a deep breath to compose myself while my back is still to the cameras, all broadcasting the reaping live across Panem.

I hear footsteps and when I look up, a peacekeeper takes ahold of my arm, steering me towards the stage. They must be afraid I'll run.

Elowen motions widely for me to approach, and I slowly mount the steps to the stage. It's so strange, seeing the crowds from up so high. I'm used to being in the center. I'm jared from those thoughts as Elowen takes a hold on my arm and raises it high into the air.

"Now that was just splendid, wasn't it? Such a calm tribute! Let's give a big round of applause for our first District 3 tribute, Ryan!"

They clap, but it's so stiff and emotionless that you can almost feel the wave of hostility rolling off of them. I almost smile, for it means that they don't agree with me being reaped. It's strange, I never got the impression anyone in District 3 cared for me, except my family.

Far in the back of the crowd I can see Simon, with Jason in his arms. The younger had his head buried in Simon's shoulder and arms tight around his neck, and even from here I can see he's shaking. Simon must be trying to get Jason out before he melts down, but the peacekeepers are blocking their way. Of course they won't let them leave, not until the final name has been called. My Mother and Father are as close to them as they're able, and Simon is talking to them, trying to calm Momma. My eyes burn again and I briefly look down at the floor. Two shaky breaths. That's all I allow before I lift my head again and stare the cameras right in the eye.

There's a commotion, and I realize that the second name had been called. In my daze I'd missed it. A tallish, dark brown haired male in a white and grey shirt and holding an expression fighting to stay calm is guided up onto the stage by Elowen. She positions herself between us, taking my hand in her free one and lifting our arms into the air.

"The Tributes of District 3, participants of the 100th Hunger Games, the fourth Quarter Quell, Ryan and Satt!"

She steps back and motions to the two of us.

"Shake hands!"

Satt. I remember Satt. My age and grade in school, he ended up my partner for two person projects for nearly all of our younger years. Both being the quieter kids, and loners, we'd always end up together, though neither of us particularly minded. He was an artist and experimented, I was a bookworm and a planner. We worked well together, each doing our share of the job. As years passed though, we grew apart, each finding our own friends until neither of us talked anymore. We hadn't spoken a word in more than two years other than the occasional 'hi'.

Now he meets my gaze calmly, and I know we can both see the emotions of fear and sorrow hidden under our skin, suppressed by blanks masks and revealed only in our eyes. Hesitantly, he reaches out his hand and I do the same, shaking hands quickly. He gives me a sad smile right before his fingers slip out of mine and I turn away, a pang of sadness shooting through me. They'll be twenty-four other tributes, I shouldn't have to worry about Satt. If I'm lucky, we'll never even cross paths in the arena. Then again, I'm not the luckiest person.