Kierra Garten's P.O.V.

Well, this is it. Reaping day. The day we have all been dreading here in the districts.

I stand in my designated section with the other girls, waiting for the escort to come out.

When she finally does, everyone around me grows tense. I glance at my friend, Amira, standing right beside me. She is fiddling with her glasses. I poked her in the arm in attempt to calm her down. She only gave me a sideways glance and a small, but forced, smile.

"We'll get started, shall we?" our escort calls out to the crowd. She steps over to the large bowl on the one side of the stage. She pulls out two cards and walks back to the mic.

"Amira Senn."

What? What? WHAT!? I looked around us. All the girls in our section were moving away, revealing our position. I grabbed Amira's wrist. No way.

A peacekeeper tore through the crowd and pulled us apart, despite my shouting at him to stop.

  "How old are you, dear?" the escort asks politely.

"Um...fourteen..." Amira responded quietly. She was handling this very well. Unlike me, who currently had a peacekeeper's white glove around my wrist.

The escort flipped open the other card in her hand.

"Kierra Garten."

  The peacekeeper released my arm, allowing me to run up to the stage. I barely even knew that it was my name she called. I just wanted to be with my friend.

"Dear, how old are you?" I heard the Capitol escort ask sweetly behind me, as I walked towards Amira.

"Oh...um fourteen."

"That's all, District Three. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

She turned around, and Amira and I hugged each other, rather than shake hands as we are supposed to.