"You are killers?" I shout at my parents across the table, my golden braids fly past my face, "And I am going to become one all because you are?"

"Rosie you have it all wrong, your father and I are being forced to tell you this by the government... Just like we were forced to kill those people." My mother replies her tone raising. Now I know why our home was placed in The Victors Village.

"You are crazy. This is history. I learned about it in school. I mean I never completely learned of you two, but I learned of the rebellion and the games, but the rebellion was meant to stop the games. Am I correct? So why are you telling me that they are having another games. The government cancelled them."

"Rosie try to understand this isn't our fault. I mean you always knew we were known to the nation. And you always knew about these wretched games." My father grows angry.

"Of course I did, didn't I just explain that, but Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark weren't ever known to me as killers they were known as heroes who survived the rebellion and games. Nothing about Rue, your leg, Aunt P, Haymitch, Uncle Gale, Auntie Effie, or Molly's grandfather, President Snow, and they surely didn't tell me you killed to win this fame!" 

"Rose they are forcing us to put you in this games with Molly, Annie and Finnicks son, Finny... Your brother is just too young and sadly you must be twelve, Which you are." My father whispers with a serious face, "The government was waiting for your birthday, it is obvious."

"Dad they cancelled the games. They can't be putting me in one!"

"The reaping is tomorrow better prepare her!" A drunken Haymitch comes waltzing through the door... If I truly get chosen, he will be my mentor... Drunken Haymitch. 

"Haymitch!" My Mom shouts.

"What you might as well break it to her. Jonny was chosen too." Jonny, Haymitch's nephew.

"Mom, you haven't worked on archery with me for over a year, and Dad your knives have been stowed away for years, and face it I haven't the slightest idea on how to camouflage, I don't even know how to trap people like the people I watched in the past games, strictly for historical reasons at school."

"They were those damn careers." Haymitch buds in.

"We have no choice, here for protection of your body," My father hands me a bow and a sheath of arrows.

"This will keep you safe." My Mom hands me her Mockingjay pin, I now know is a good luck charm.

My head nods seriously as I pull on my hunting boots and open the door for a short hunting trip in the woods, on my own. Practice makes perfect, Auntie Effie always reminded me of this, along with a "May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor," and all I can say as I step through the door is.

"I guess the odd's aren't always in our favor..." I truly know the meaning of what I am saying and when I get to the woods in the comfort of a sturdy branch my face becomes wet and my body becomes warm with Buttercups body.

"Stupid old cat. You can't protect me."

***************************************************************************************************************

A rumble, a crack, and I was on the ground. My boots moved through the autumn leaves scattered like a puzzle across the forest floor. I could sense game headed my way. 

My feet paced slowly backward until something slammed me down, well pulled me down...

"MAX!" I shout.

"Peep down, a deer is headed our way." He replies.

Max is Gale's son. After his fling with Mother he left to go to Two to become a guard. He soon married. Than moved back to Twelve, greeted my parents mainly my mother with a pregnant wife and a whisper "I told you I had kissed other girls." in my mother's ear. No more than five years later.

I have to admit Max is pretty handsome, but he is like family, a few years older and a best friend, a shoulder to cry on... A person to cheer for me killing my other best friend in the games.

We both aimed simultaneously at the deer and shot in sync me hitting the eye him the chest.

He pulled out his Game Bag much larger than mine and retrieved the arrows from the wounded body.

"We are much too much like our parents." He says while walking with me to the lunching area our parents ate in at our age, a sort of meadow, with tall grass and a cool breeze.

"Like Aunt Melony says," Aunt Melony is Gale's wife, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree!" I pull an apple from a tree branch and toss it his way.

"You hear?" 

"Hear what."

"The games." His glare is pointed directly at the mountains ahead of us no eye contact headed my way.

"The reaping, my parents, your father, murders, the strange girl named Rue who swung through the trees, The Seventy Fourth Games, The Quarter Quell, Molly's Grand-Father?"

"Yes."

"I heard."

"I am..." He pauses.

"Your what?"

"Nervous."

"You shouldn't be, one boy and one girl. They are telling us. Plus I already have thoughts on who will be chosen for every tribute, well almost every tribute participating in this Games."

"Father told me he had to do tesserae, when he was our age. You know what that is."

"Second Grade learning topics."

"That our parents were forced to use."

"Max?"

"Yeah." His blue gray eyes pierce mine.

"If I was to die... would you miss me?" He looks concerned, but then ponders my question.

"Of course I would, I love you Rosie. You are my best friend, I know I got Molly, but face it her hiding from your parents tightens her relationship with anyone. Even you!"

"Missing will soon become a presence in everyone in this town. At Father's Bakery, Old Greasey Says Diner, The Hob."

"Why you say such a thing?"

"And the worst part is you might not even have Molly."

"Rose why are you saying this." He becomes very concerned as my voice and thoughts drift off with the wind.

I sit there staring him straight in the eye for a few seconds... Until I spot my mother.

Grandpa's bow in her hand, Gale following quietly him with another bow in hand behind her. Hunting.

I look down at my almost identical match of her wooden bow in my lap, to find paint chipping from it...

"No time for answers, Mom never lets me this far in the woods... and I am becoming to know why."

We run Quickly but Quietly towards the nearest tree, both in spying mode.

"Gale when did we stop using Beety's Fancy Voice Control Bow's again?" My mother asks.

"When our children needed to be protected, with the help of Beety." Gale replies.

My mother falls slowly to the ground on, her knees and I can tell she is having a break down. Most likely from the memories of these grounds with the graves of the dead that lie scatttered through out these woods.

Gale's words replay through my mind, mainly these ones, "protected," and "with the help of Beety." My mind flashes back through all the stories I was told in school of Beety, a man who contributed to the rebellion, an inventor, Mother and Father's "Good Mornings" and "Nights" always in a low whisper, than I remember my father's last words before I left the house "for protection."

"Start prying at the brown surface of your bow and fast, Max" I say in a hushed tone. Max does as said.

And sure enough. I should have recognized the work of my Father. Beneath the several layers of paint was a Metal Black Bow, and when I reach to the sheath of arrows, to do the same, I find slick black arrows... Both for protection.

"Good morning." I whisper this to the bow and I hear a buzzing.

"What the heck?" Max wonders.

"I will explain tomorrow, before the reaping."

My feet find their way out of the tree and I retrieve my Mother's Mockingjay pin from my pocket once given to her by the old Mayor's Daughter, and place it on my collar.

I take a quick look around and whistle a four note tune my mother whistles constantly.

One by one each Mockingjay hidden in the trees repeats me until the entire forest has broken out in the four note tune.

"RUE!" My mother shouts running in my direction, looking like a crazy old lady, Gale chasing after her.

I run towards my mother grabbing her by the hand and pulling her home.

I now have an explanation I need to confirm.