A/N Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!

"Welcome citizens of District 5 to another fabulous year of the Hunger Games!" chirps Brietta Flowers, this years Capitol escort.

"May the odds be ever in your favour, but before we select our tributes, I have a lovely little video to watch showing you why we are blessed with these exciting events!"

We have all seen the video by now and we can all recite the treaty of treason of by heart. Instead of watching the video, I look to see what bizarre capitol style she displays this year. She has dyed her natural hair a bright green and styled it around a head dress constructed with some kind of expensive capitol glass vines, leafs and artificial flowers that seem to bloom from her hair; it looks like someone has shoved a flowery bush on her head.

The most alarming feature about her is a tattoo that covers a large proportion of her face. It is a butterfly, symmetrical in every way. As she blinks I can see that her eyelids are also tattooed. In the capitol its probably thought of as cute and fashionable but I an only find it eerie.

"Well what a wonderful film, how I thank the Capitol for letting us see that. Now we must discover the brave tributes of District 5!"

With a flamboyant stride, Brietta approaches the large bowl and dips her hand in, stirring around until she suddenly stops and flick out a slip into her hand. Slowly she unfolds it and walks to the microphone and clears her throat. " For the ladies..."

I clutch my hand tight, repeating in my head its not me, it wont be you. Think about it logically. There are people with more names in there. Of course you it wont be you. Its not you, its not you, ITS NOT YOU.

Brietta raises her hand and looks out into the audience.

"Marissa Woods" - its me.


"Come on up darling, come stand right here" She beckons me over but all I can do is turn my head, expecting another Marissa to magically appear in front of me, but I know this is false hope.

For a brief moment I think I can get away, like when I'm caught stealing. Run through the crowd and hide behind the justice building itself. I know its useless. With every eye of the District firmly planted on me I have no choice but to put one step in front of the other.

I put on a fake smirk and with confident strides I walk up to the podium, I want them to think I'm not afraid, that I expected to be picked. After all Brietta seems to be convinced by my masquerade, oblivious to how scared I am.

"Wonderful! But what about the boys?" She pulls a name out once more "Daton Kelly"

A boy, about a year or so younger than me steps forward, hands trembling as he tries to hide them behind his back. He doesn't realise that although his shaking hands are hidden, his face, sunken and full of lost hope, shows his terror.

Walking up to the stage he stumbles, earning sniggers from deep in the crowd; probably from the rich child of a power plant manager who's never had to worry about the reaping all their life. District 5 is full of these people, they are nearly as hated as the peacekeepers.

Daton stops up to Brietta who directs him to stand beside me.

"Shake Hands," abruptly he shoots out a trembling hand and I swiftly take it. His hand is tiny in mine; childlike even. How can a boy like this hold a knife, or a sword? Fight 23 others, some who have had years of training and others who are big enough that their lack of training in nothing matched to their intense strength and power.

For a moment I'm found wondering if he has anything valuable in his pockets, spare change, an expensive tribute token. I think, perhaps, if I wait until we are in the justice building, by the time I slip my hand and take out anything I find, the peace keepers wont even notice. However maybe its the fear in his eyes, reflecting the scared emotions I feel myself, or the way he struggles to move without stumbling around his nervous feet but I cant justify stealing from this boy. Instead I reach into the pocket of the nearest peace keeper. Risky, I know but I do find three coins. Just my luck, but what can I say, old habits die hard.