Hey guys! Some people know that I have a passion for both Taylor Swift and the hunger games! So why not put 'em together?! Let me know what you you think

about it! Thx! I love you all (especially Izz the wolf 3)!

I woke with a jolt; my brother, Liam, crying again. To be fair it's his first reaping today, but I never cried this much.

"Taylor!" he whined and grabbed me by the waist. His hands and face were damp with tears. The bed we shared had a little wet patch where he wet himself.

"Not again!" I groaned "C'mon, Liam, you're twelve! You should know what to do!" I moaned while stripping the bed and dumping the urine-stained sheets in the sink. I ran the hot tap and chucked a bar of soap in. "Another bad dream?"

He nodded solemnly. "It was me, Taylor, they chose me." I grabbed his shoulders.

"Liam," I said, sternly, yet softly "My name is in 46 times. Your name is in there 6 times. What're the odds?" I told him. I wiped his face and began washing the dirty sheets. It was my sixth reaping this year, so yes, I'm seventeen. I only have one more to go after that. Then it's Liam's turn to 'honour' the family with a chance of 46 of getting murdered. Violently.

I finished washing the sheets and went outside to hang them up to dry. When I was out there Cameron, my cousin, walked past "Hey T-Swizzle! Good luck in the reaping! I hope you die violently!" He joked.

"Not funny!" I stuck my tongue out at him; He stuck his tongue out at me. That's pretty much how all our conversations go. He was a lucky boy. He was nineteen, so he couldn't go into the hunger games again; he had all the girls he wanted and he lived in the victors village with his girlfriend, Vanessa, who won 2 years ago, when she was my age.

I went back inside and grabbed my guitar and my favourite pick. I sat on a rusty chair outside our worn-out cottage and strummed along to my favourite song (that I wrote!). I was currently writing a song called "mean" that was written about the careers from district four last year, because they ate their 'prey'. I found it more than disturbing. I'm from district one (a career district), which is the district that enriches the capitol with music and new foods. I am a talented musician; so of course, I work in the music department. My father works at the food tech buildings, and my brother, Liam sits at home with my mother and Mary (my toddler-sister) learning how to read and wright.

District two is another Career district. Their job is to wright books and teach the capitol literature.

District four is the last career district. Their job is to "produce young geniuses who can enrich the capitol with their knowledge and intellect." – A quote from the 'book of Panem history' that we read at school.

I feel sorry for district three. They're sort of…abandoned, as the careers go one, two then four- completely missing out three. They're always the first to die. Unlike us, from one.

I couldn't think of any good words to wright for the song, though and I was worried I had writer's block. I bet district two have that all the time.

I decided to do something simple with all the spare time I had until the reaping, so I got changed into a white dress and slipped on my white pumps- the ones with the bows on the ends. I tied my curly, blonde hair back into a pony tail and looked in the mirror. My eyes were okay, I guess. They were blue, and I'd covered my plain, blonde eyelashes in mascara. My mouth was curvy, my mother always said I had a nice smile, but she had to say that- she's my mum. I hated my nose though. The way it curved at the end. Everyone said it was cute, but I try to not keep it in the convocation. My skin was pale and clear, so I didn't need foundation. Not yet, anyway. I walked outside, into the streets of district one, where I found myself taking me to the victor's village. I'd never asked for help before, I was always completely independent, but my name was entered more times and the question kept stabbing at me: "what should I do?"

I knocked- banged- on the most trust-worthy house of all: Jennifer's. She opened the door and immediately smiles grew, simultaneously on both our faces "How good to see you! Come in Taylor!" she beckoned me into her amazingly furnished living room. I sat down on a beautiful, rose-patterned sofa "so, tell me what you need." She said, still smiling.

"I need to know," I started "what technique I should use if I end up going to the games."

There was a long pause as she sat, staring into space, then she shook her head, to escape the daze and answered me "In the cornucopia, run as fast as you can to something. If you see something you would be skilled at- take it. Don't let any other person get it. Taylor, Taylor Swift, you should look deep into your heart and find what you need there, then bring it back into reality. Take what you know you'll be good at." She told me.

"That's a bit…cliché…" I thought to myself.

"Thanks," I said, nodding like one of those stupid nodding dog toys. Ugh, they annoy me.

I got up to leave, but before I could, she grabbed my hand "Taylor, good luck." She nodded (like a stupid nodding dog.)

I enjoyed walking through the victor's village. It reminded me of how I could win if I really tried.

I walked through town, my guitar slung across my back, humming myself a familiar tune (that I wroteJ), when I passed Joe and his idiot group of chavs. Some no-brainer girls twisted their hair round their fingers and batted their eyelashes at him. He seemed 'cool' to them. He winked at me and I gave him a look. He was so annoying. The girls all shot me the evil-eyes for a second, but then went back to being brain dead. Was I the only normal girl in district one? They tittered along behind Joe and disappeared off, their lip-glossy, fake personalities draining from view.

"Was it just me or could you feel your IQ dropping as they came nearer?" someone asked from behind me. I turned around and my face lit up to see Harry. His name stayed in the air for a few seconds, hovering in my mind as I took him into account. His shining eyes, curly brown hair and cute, boyish smile. My best friend. He was a few years younger than me, but he was still a lot taller. Before I took into account what I was doing, I found myself pressed against him in a bear hug. He patted me on the head and said in a jokey was "don't be stupid in the reaping." I didn't really understand what he meant, but I nodded anyway. We walked back to my house together, where we parted with a fist-punch. I figured I was a lot more boyish when I wore a dress. Don't know why though.

I got in and changed into my reaping clothes quickly, before my parents noticed. Liam was gelling his hair. It was weird…

I got changed into another white dress, but this one had tiny pink flowers on it and lace around the waist. I wore a pearl necklace and undid my hair, but clipped the frond bits back behind my head. I applied a layer of beautiful pink lipstick and mascara. If I was going to be reaped, I might as well do it in a fresh layer of lippy- luxurious capitol lipstick. My mother took one look at me and her eyes watered up.

"It seems only yesterday when our little Taylor was dressing up in my high heels and pearls. Now she has her own." She cried a bit. I rolled my eyes.

"Here we go again" I thought. I sighed and patted my mum's shoulders. I led her to the door, where she got herself together and we all walked out together. Liam and I dawdled behind mum and dad, we always did on the reaping days. He squeezed my hand and I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb, reassuringly.

We got nearer and nearer, and each step I took, my shoe seemed to stick more to the pavement. I walked up to a peace keeper and got my blood print taken before I went in, then it was Liam's turn. He seemed calm, but I could easily tell he was panicking on the inside. As soon as he was through the gate, I hugged him tightly and told him where to meet me afterwards; then we parted into our separate groups.

Unluckily, I ended up in between two brain-dead prissy girls. I was 'Taylor Swift' so I ended up between 'Fran Summer' and 'Charlotte Syrah' – two of the most idiotic girls I had ever heard. They were squealing and jumping up and down, as if they were nursery children and it was 'show and tell'. Myra Erann strutted onto stage like a capitol citizen with leg cancer. Her legs were way too long for her body and her hair was bright purple. I'm not even joking. It was purple. Purple.

Everyone immediately fell silent except the girls next to me, who were still squealing. Everyone was staring. I had a massive face-palm right there, on the spot. They both got the message and shut up quickly. Myra began her long…long speech about Panem and the dark days…bla. She gave the name of the mentor this year and to my surprise, it was Jennifer. I don't know where it came from, but I had a sudden need to be in the games. I wanted to be a tribute for some reason. Was I just accepting my death? No. It's because I wanted to prove to Joe that I could be strong and a girl at the same time. That or I wanted a big house.

She eventually stopped hissing on (stupid capitol accents- I'm sure you know all about them.) about the history of Panem, as If we hadn't all heard it every year of our lives over and over again. She finally said "Ehem, so shall we chose our tributes?" She walked up to the girl's bowl first and reached in. Her hand swam in the pool of names, building the tension up and up. She picked a name and un-folded it with her perfectly manicured nails and read out the name. "Fran Summer". The girl next to me. I was kind of sad that it wasn't me for some reason, but I never imagined I would do what I did next. Before she could even make a step, everyone turned at stared at me. For a second I didn't know why, but then I realized that "I volunteer" were the strange words that came out of my mouth. The words were strangers to me. I suddenly realized what Harry meant when he said "don't be stupid." I was stupid, wasn't I.

I took a breath and walked up confidently, peacekeepers to my left and my right. My hair fell in front of my eyes. I looked into the crowd, who looked back at me, up until the moment when Myra picked the boy's name. Harry was still staring at me. So was Liam. So was Fran. So was Joe. I felt like a puppy- everyone gaping at me. Harry's mouth opened in disbelief. I wanted to mouth "shut your mouth" to him, but I was on camera, so I decided to stand still. A boy walked up onto stage who had too long hair to recognise, but he looked vaguely familiar. He looked at me through his long, brown fringe.

"And that ends the district one reaping, here are our tributes: Taylor Swift and Edward Vincenzo!" we shook hands and Myra walked off stage too enthusiastically and ended up flat on her face. She got up as if nothing happened and continued to walk off, proudly. We waited for peacekeepers to take us to the justice building.

Edward Vincenzo… it sounded familiar. He looked a few years younger than me, he slouched and his bangs covered his face. I couldn't recognise him no matter how hard I tried.

Jeff Akers (everyone called him Ace for some reason, though), the pervertish head peace keeper took me into the room where I say goodbye to my family. He touched me in an inappropriate place so I slapped his hand. He gestured to his gun and I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn't stop him anymore, but he didn't touch me again, so I figured he got the message.

He locked me in a room with nothing but a window and a sofa. The sofa was no different from the one at home: brown and uncomfortable. I sat on the arm of the sofa, like I always did at home. Some people might have sat there crying their eyes at whilst their family sobbed over them, but I found myself more than happy to go in.

My family were the first to visit me. Liam, mother, father and Mary. Liam was the first to hug me. He put his arms around me, just like he did this morning. "I'm not going to say goodbye because I know I'll see you again." He looked at me with tearful eyes "You're coming back Taylor. It's just like writing a song."

"How?" I asked

"You'll figure it out soon enough." I kissed his forehead. Next was mother. She put her hands on my shoulders

"We're proud of you, Taylor" she said. She had to be one of the only parents to ever say that to a daughter who is about to (probably) die. My father nodded along to her words. Mary hugged my legs and I lifted her onto her lap. Her curly locks smelt like lemons and butter. Like home.

For the next five minutes the world looked blurred through the tears welling in my eyes, but the tears weren't for me, they were for my family. They'll be so worried. They won't cope. I don't know how I could have been so stupid. We shared kisses and hugs, then the moment came when I had to watch the last part of my family leave the room.

Harry came next.

"Taylor, you are so stupid." He shook his head at me. "You're arrogant, idiotic, dangerous, but most of all you're amazing, Taylor." That surprised me.

I put my arms around his neck and we hugged for ages. His breaths felt like butterflies on the back of my neck. When the peace keeper came to take him away he patted me on the head and said "don't be stupid, Tay." I hate it when he says that, but at the same time, I love it.

No one else loved me enough to visit me. I was taken to a car where Edward was already sitting, looking calmly out of the window. He looked at me with a face much abused with tears. He tried to hide it though. I sat opposite him in the car.

Myra joined us a few seconds later, eagerly clutching a clipboard with a timetable-schedule on it. Then finally, Jennifer joined us with a cup of coffee and the driver set off.

"Is this why you came to me this morning, Taylor?" she asked "Because you would volunteer."

I shook my head, my blonde locks smacking my face "I don't know what came over me to volunteer, but there's nothing I can do now, anyway." I smiled, sadly.

"Is there a guitar in the car?" I asked. I was desperate to play.

"No, of course not, silly!" Myra giggled. She seemed too young at heart to be an adult- giggling and giving the driver flirty looks in the mirror "But there will definitely be one on the train!"

Train?

For the next half hour I droned out Myra's constant chattering and thought of some new lyrics for my new 'hunger games' song called "eyes open"

"Everybody's waiting for you to break down,

Everybody's watching to see the fall out,

Even when you're sleeping,

Keep your eyes open." I hummed to myself until I finally fell asleep.

When I woke up it was dark and Myra was shaking me awake. I guessed we were at the train station. We got out of the car and walked across a long platform and waited for the train.

A rumble vibrated beneath our feet and a horn so loud that Myra had to hold her ears. The train was the quickest moving object I'd ever seen.

It stopped in front of us and I took a big step onto the car of the train.

My second step towards the games.