District Five was not a Career District, despite their significant wealth in comparison to other districts. Their most prominent Victor, Alaric Silvers, had only won the 32nd Hunger Games thanks to his surprising skills with a sword. The district hasn't had a great deal of success since and Alaric had grown wearier each year his tributes never returned. His mind was haunted with the faces of innocent children who had been sent off to die. Their screams ringing in his ears as they are killed for the entertainment of the Capitol. His body burns from the glares sent his way by grieving families. All those children he'd failed to save... He doesn't know how much longer he can carry on.

As Alaric wakes up in a sweat, panting heavily from the nightmares plaguing his sleep, Dahlia Blossom is staring up at the ceiling of her shared bedroom. Like all children living in the districts of Panem, she fears one day above all others. Reaping Day. She tries her best to ignore the looming date as much as possible but living with a sister of reaping age does not ease her worries. Lavender's name is only in the bowl once and, although the odds of her being reaped were low, there was still a very real chance her little sister would be sent into the arena.

Rosie, the youngest Blossom, cuddles into Dahlia's side, blissfully oblivious to the worries of her older sister. She slept soundly, innocence maintained by the knowledge that she had a few years left until she was of age. Dahlia and Lavender, on the other hand, had barely slept a wink. The three children of the Blossom household occupied the largest bedroom, which contained two single beds. Rosie frequently used Dahlia as her personal teddy bear as the two shared one bed. When she was home, their mother could usually be found passed out in the smaller bedroom. She worked extremely long shifts at the hydroelectric dam to support her family, entrusting Dahlia to look after the house and the young ones. Reaping Day mornings were the only occasions Joule Blossom really got to spend time with her children.

The door to the room creaks as it swings open, alerting Dahlia and Lavender to their mother's presence. They both quickly shut their eyes to pretend to be asleep. Joule smiles at the girls who are her motivation in life, her reason to keep going. Approaching her oldest first, she combs her fingers through Dahlia's hair soothingly. "It's time to wake up, my flower."

"Good morning, Mama." Dahlia mumbles as she pretends to rouse from sleep, her eyes fluttering open with a very convincing yawn.

Joule quirks an eyebrow knowingly at her daughter. "You don't need to pretend for me. I know you can't sleep before... Well, you know." They knew exactly what today was, but no one wanted to say it. "I'm assuming your sister is the same. Am I right, Lavender?"

"Yes, Mama." Lavender replies, immediately abandoning the act and shooting upright in her bed. Joule heads over to the girl and places a delicate kiss on her forehead. "Rosie is lucky. She still has two years before she's eligible."

"You'll both be fine." Joule assures the two girls, who just nod in reply. As much as they want to believe their mother's words, they can never know what will happen. Reaping Day is unpredictable and Dahlia hates the unknown. At that moment, Rosie begins to stir in Dahlia's arms and a large yawn parts her lips. "Morning, sleepy."

"Morning, Mama." The adorable girl grumbles, rubbing her eyes with tight fists. "Is it the bad day?"

"Unfortunately so." Joule sighs, wringing her hands together to stop them from shaking. "Now, come. We must leave plenty of time to get ready. I don't want to be rushing like last year."

With that, the Blossom household descends into chaos. Their best dresses had been hanging up in the kitchen for a week to get rid of any possible creases, but that was ruined the minute the dresses were on. While Lavender and Rosie's hand-me-downs were a decent fit, Dahlia seemed to have had a growth spurt since last year's Reaping.

"Mama!" She shouts through the small house, resulting in a loud crash from her mother's bedroom. Dahlia hurries along to complain, "My dress is too short."

"Oh." Joule fumbles for a solution. They had no other nice dresses that would fit Dahlia's new growth. Money was short and food was more important than pretty clothes. "You could wear an old one of mine? But all I have is a black one."

"That'll do." Dahlia replies dismissively, watching her mother slide a box out from under her bed. Inside sits a simple black dress made from cheap fabric. It'll stand out among the crowds of dull, light colours but Dahlia doesn't have much choice. "Thanks, Mama. Lav and Ro-Ro are already dressed and waiting for help with their hair."

"Thank you, my flower. I know I can always count on you." Joule brings her daughter into her chest, squeezing her tight as if she may slip through her fingers. She places a kiss on Dahlia's black hair before they part. "I'll do your sister's hair while you get dressed."

Dahlia nods before slipping away into her room. She's never minded sharing with her sisters. They're a family, and they need to help each other. Yes, they got on her nerves which led to bickering and fights, but she truly loves them to bits.

As the black dress slides onto her body, she realises how appropriate the colour is. Black is the colour of mourning and they'll be sending at least one person off to their death today. It was as much a funeral as it was a farewell.

Smoothing down the fabric, which fits much better than her original dress, she finally feels the nerves begin to rise. Each year, her chances of being picked grow stronger. She couldn't stand the possibility of her name being called and having to leave her family to grieve her loss. It is especially bad for Dahlia this year as she had no choice but to sign up for the tesserae. Her mother fell ill and was unable to work. She couldn't stand by and let her family starve. Everything she did was for them.

"Do I look okay?" Lavender asks nervously, bounding up to Dahlia as she enters the kitchen.

Dahlia playfully inspects her sister with a scrutinising gaze. "Do a spin." Lavender rolls her eyes but obliges with a small smile. "You look so pretty the escort won't even be able to pick a name, because he'll be blinded by your beauty."

"Stop it, Dahls." Lavender groans as she slumps into a wooden chair. "I'm serious."

Dahlia kneels in front of her, grabbing both of Lavender's hands in her own. "So am I." She squeezes her sister's hands three times, their silent message for 'I love you'. Lavender squeezes back as a small tear drips down her face.

"I'm scared, Dahlia." She confesses shakily in a hushed tone. "What if it's me? What if I'm picked and I never see you again? Or Mama? Or Rosie? What if I die in those games?"

"You will not be dying, Lavender Blossom. That is a promise." Dahlia states defiantly with a fire burning in her dark eyes. "All those people in the Capitol want is a show. Entertainment. That's all we are to them. We mean nothing." Lavender's lips turn downwards into a frown. "But you, Ro-Ro and Mama mean everything to me. I will always be here to protect you. So trust me when I say that you are going nowhere near those games." She gently wipes Lavender's cheeks until they are unblemished by tears. "You're stuck with me, Lav."

"Oh, the horror." Lavender murmurs sarcastically, a few chuckles escaping through her sniffles.

"Exactly." Dahlia beams, standing up to her full height as her mother and Rosie enter the room.

"Oh, my." Joule gasps, her hands flying to cover her mouth. "Look at my beautiful girls." She beckons the three of them into a group hug. "Whatever happens, I love you all. And I'm so proud of you." As they pull back, Joule cups her two eldest daughters' cheeks. "We'll be okay." She seems to be trying to convince herself more than her children as she nods to herself and wipes her tears on the sleeve of her dress. "Let's be off then."

They join the horde of zombie-like people trudging towards the Justice Building, the uninspiring grey architecture establishing the sombre and serious mood of the day ahead. Dahlia and Lavender grip tightly to each other's hands, refusing to let go until they absolutely have to. As she predicted, Dahlia's dark dress stands out among the crowd and many of the other children eye her outfit curiously. No one says a word as they are shuffled into single lines. Dahlia stands in front of Lavender, still holding her hand behind her back. She only lets go when it's her turn to confirm her identity.

"Next." The stern woman calls as Dahlia steps up and holds out her hand. She does not flinch as her finger is pricked and her blood is smeared onto the paper. As the woman scans the blotch, Dahlia glances over her shoulder to send Lavender a tight-lipped smile of reassurance. "Go ahead. Next."

Dahlia is ushered into the area with the other 15 year olds and finally allows herself to feel nervous about the day. She had been putting on a brave face for her sisters, trying to disguise the sheer terror she had bottled up inside. Her hands curl into fists at her sides to stop them from shaking like leaves in the breeze and she takes a deep breath to slow down her racing heartbeat. It'll be fine, she tells herself. Somehow she doesn't believe her own words.

District Five's Mayor steps out from the Justice Building and takes a seat at the back of the stage, Alaric Silvers glumly trudging behind with a solemn expression. He seemed to have accepted defeat already. Their District Escort, Magenta, is the last one on stage, teetering forward with a beaming grin to greet the terrified faces before him.

"Welcome! Happy Hunger Games!" Magenta cheers into the microphone. His outfit today seems to resemble a peacock, with long blue eyelashes to match the feathers decorating his turquoise suit. "May the odds be ever in your favour. Now, before we begin, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from The Capitol."

Dahlia takes this as her cue to zone out. She has better things to be doing than listening to a film that she's practically memorised the words to. She believes that prolonging the length of the ceremony is another technique the Capitol use to torture the districts even more. They force the children to wait as long as possible to discover their fate. Will they be safe another year or will they be destined to fight to the death?

"Wasn't that wonderful?" Magenta exclaims brightly, receiving nothing but silence in return. With an awkward chuckle, he clears his throat and declares, "Now is the time you've all been waiting for. Selecting one courageous young man and woman for the honour of representing District 5 in the 66th Annual Hunger Games." The entire group of assembled children hold their breath in anticipation, no one daring to make eye contact with the escort in fear they will be picked on. "As usual... Ladies first." Magenta's heels click along the stage until he reaches the bowl. His manicured fingers swirl the names around, taunting and teasing the crowd until he finally plucks a slip. Wobbling back to the microphone, he unfurls the paper slowly, prolonging what is already an agonising wait. Then his lips part to deliver the death sentence, "Lavender Blossom."

A collective sigh of relief leaves the lungs of all but two of the eligible girls. Lavender's face falls as she is pushed forward by the girls in her line. Her bottom lip quivers as tears stream down her face.

Dahlia is frozen and her mouth falls open in shock. How could Lavender be picked? Her name is only in there once. She can't have been picked. And yet, all eyes follow the young girl in sympathy as she is stiffly marched past them. However, there is also gratitude in their stares. Lavender's sacrifice means they're all safe for another year, but how can Dahlia stand by while her little sister is paraded off to die? Lavender's watery eyes lock with her sister and Dahlia can see the despair in her eyes. In that one gaze, a horrible truth hits her hard. Her sister will not make it out of those Games alive...

But Dahlia would.

"I volunteer as tribute."