THE 150th HUNGER GAMES

District 3 Reaping (All Ages)

Metallica (Lia) Theodore's (District 3) P.O.V:

No. This is not happening. I refuse to believe Annie just volunteered for me. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was the one who's name was chosen. I was the one who was supposed to go into the Hunger Games. I was the one who was supposed to die. I may only be twelve years old, but Annie has so much more of her life ahead of her than I.

I watch sadly as she takes her place next to the escort, who smiles and says, "What's your name, beautiful?" And Annie really is quite beautiful, with her new teal colored hair that she insisted upon for her sixteenth birthday making her green eyes pop. I wanted to get my hair color changed, too, even though it wasn't my birthday and there was so little dye to use, it being very rare here. I think it was the biggest birthday present Annie ever got. But she still shared it with me, being the kind person she is, and I will never forget how she was the one who let me have the streak of teal in my hair, and how nice she was. Even if she dies. I would prefer to think that won't happen, though.

"Anastasia Theodore, but please, call me Annie," my sister smiles charmingly.

"Ooh, our names are so similar! I'm Angelina!" The escort squeals excitedly. "But I was never called Annie." She says as though she is disgusted by the very thought. I think Annie is a nice name. If my sister wants to be called that, she should be called that. She's been going by Annie since she was what, fourteen, I think? Dad called her that when we were very little, I wasn't even born when he started. Then he was taken away to the Capitol for disobeying them, I was six, she was ten, and she was Anastasia again, because we couldn't stand any reminder of him. Mom would break down crying, but eventually, we decided we wanted to remember Dad, instead of push his memory away. So she went back to being Annie. I went back to being Lia.

"I'll bet that was your sister you volunteered for, wasn't it?" The escort chatters on.

Annie's eyes find mine in the crowd of girls, and I see a flash of sadness. I, personally, feel like crying my eyes out right now. My sister could have just taken my place for the spot of death. And I wouldn't want her to die. Annie's got the rest of her life. The Hunger Games ruins all that.

Apparently, someone else thinks the same as I do. "THIS IS SH*T!" A male voice calls out, and I see my sister's boyfriend shove towards her angrily. A Peacekeeper briskly walks over and holds him back. Liam- that's his name- spits out a curse word and tries to shake him off, but the Peacekeeper has a firm grip. I gasp as Liam throws a punch. It hits the Peacekeeper square in the jaw, and he lets go of Liam's arm. But my sister's boyfriend doesn't stop there.

He kicks the Peacekeeper's knee and jabs his stomach. Another punch to the face and the soldier is on the ground, where Liam kicks him. Reinforcements are flooding the square and Annie realizes just a moment before I do that this isn't going to turn out well for Liam.

"LIAM!" She screams his name, but the noise of the gunshot muffles it. He crumples to the ground and I can tell from here he's dead. Blood seeps from his wound and reddens the stones on the ground. I turn away, slightly grossed out. I've always been a little squeamish around blood. Instead, I look over at Annie. She looks heartbroken. I would be, too, in her place. Then again, in a way I already am, for her. A part of me will die if Annie dies.

The escort seems a little shocked; she laughs nervously. "O-kay. Well, let's choose a male tribute!" She walks over to the second glass ball, her shiny orange heels clacking. The escort reaches into the papers and draws one, carefully unfolding it and reading the name off to the audience. I don't really care who it is. There are no guys between twelve and eighteen I know that well.

"Zephyr Phaesar!" Angelina grins.

A boy, definitely a few years older than me, judging by his height, makes his way forward. He has black hair the color of a crow's feathers and is actually quite attractive, though I really shouldn't be thinking such thoughts when there is at least a four, maybe more years between us.

Zephyr takes his place beside the escort and stands quietly. She asks him his name, and he responds with a rather poetic response. "Seventeen years of age, seventeen years of life, seventeen years of time."

The escort giggles. "Fantastic! Our District 3 tributes- Anastasia Theodore and Zephyr Phaesar!"

I meet my sister's eyes one last time before she is taken into the Justice Building.

How I hope she wins.