It was nearing eleven o’clock when I reached the town square, and it was filling fast. The mood was tense and hardly anyone spoke. While the other seventeen year old girls huddled close together, I stood alone and tried to distract myself from what was coming. I thought of what Logan had said to me as he returned to District 10. Why would he want to be reminded of me? We were barely even friends…

My head turned to the platform where the tributes of the 31st Hunger Games were to be announced. The same place where I was whipped four years before. Not a place of good memories. And there stood the huge glass balls, containing the slips of paper that determine the tributes every year. There were seven slips of paper with my name in there. I had considered taking tesserae, but my father would not allow it. You see, although my father made a reasonable amount of money in his job, my mother stopped working as a seamstress straight after my brother’s death. Money was tighter after that, especially as prices of everything rocketed after shock floods and famine in District 9, 10 and 11. I casually brought up the idea one night, and my father screamed at me. I never mentioned it again.

At precisely eleven, the chairs on the stage began to fill. On one sat Mayor Golding. Beside him, District 10’s escort, Eli Thimbletooth, sat grooming himself in a pocket mirror. His head was like a field, with his grass green hair and flowery accessories. His eyelashes and eyebrows were studded with red jewels, and he was applying glittery gold lipstick to his pouted lips. Mayor Golding looked at him in clear disapproval, and I saw the same look mirrored on Logan’s face across the square. It made me smile.

The other two chairs were occupied by Drew Harper and Valeria Grey. They were past victors, and would serve as mentors to the tributes of District 10. Valeria must have been in her early forties or late thirties, yet she was a beautiful, strong woman with a welcoming smile. Everything a victor should be. Drew, on the other hand, was crowned victor at the age of twelve the year Jonah was born. I will never forget the curly haired boy’s face as he smashed the skull of a monstrous girl from District 4. Drew was known for being deeply disturbed, and though normally, handsome victors like himself were loved in the Capitol, he was not. He slouched in his chair and closed his eyes and I watched him go through hell, as he did every year at the reaping.

Mayor Golding stood, cleared his throat and rambled on for ten minutes about why the Hunger Games were necessary, the Dark Days and how President Snow has the power to crush our puny District any time he pleases. That was the gist of it anyway.

Then Eli stepped up to the podium, clapping his hands in utter glee, unable to contain his excitement. I bet he couldn’t wait for the blood to spill.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he sighed, “Here we are again. What a beautiful day for a reaping!” He waggled his finger at the crowd, showing off the talons that replaced his nails, no doubt the height of fashion in the Capitol. “And remember! May the odds, be ever in your favour. Let us start with the lovely ladies!”

His hand dived into the first reaping ball and, with great difficulty, he opened the slip of paper. He put a hand to his mouth as though surprised, even though everyone was a stranger to him.

“My, my, what have we here? Would Miss Raven Verona please step on to the stage!”

I didn’t hesitate. There was no time to register that it was me, I had been chosen, I was going into an arena to fight to the death. I needed to look confident, cocky even. I held my head high, like the day of the whipping, and strode up to the stage while the whole District stared at me in amazement at my calm attitude. But inside me was like an inferno.

I should have left this morning was my first thought. Then I spotted Logan and felt nothing else other than anger at him. It was his fault. He had made me come back. I felt like screaming, or crying, or both, but I focused on keeping my face emotionless. It wasn’t my fault. It was his. He made me stay. I could be halfway to District 11, or 9 by now! I screamed in my mind. I stood next to Eli, who swung and arm around me. I could feel his ‘talons’ digging into my arm.

“Our girl tribute for District 10! Do we have any volunteers?”

There was no sound from the crowd, as expected.

“Then please put your hands together for Raven!”

Unenthusiastic clapping followed. In the distance, I could hear a woman screaming and crying. Mother…

Eli tottered over to the male reaping ball, rubbing his hands together in excitement. I heard him whispering to himself “Who will it be, who will it be…”

I located Logan in the crowd again and fixated my glare on him. He stared back, his eyes pleading, begging for forgiveness. I knew what he was feeling, but what was the use? I almost didn’t hear the name of the male tribute.

“Logan Golding!”

No…