My name is Will, I'm thirty-three years old.

When I was eighteen, I was chosen to compete in the Hunger Games, a form of mandatory televised entertainment for the citizens of Panem where each year twenty-four young people between the ages of twelve and eighteen fight to the death until one remains standing, it's the Capitol's way of telling everyone who is in charge, in other words. To be able to tell you this should tell you that I survived the brutality in the arena and became the youngest living victor of my district.

So, here is my story…

It all happened about three days after my eighteenth birthday.

I was born and raised in District 5, the only son of two systems analysts who help run the power grid for the whole country – our district's main function is providing power to keep the nation running. So as soon as I turned twelve, that was the first time I had been entered into the Reaping, the draw that chose the tributes each year for the Games, which must be attended by all district citizens – the laws are very strict here in Panem. Two years ago, I had lost my best friend Henri St. Pierre, who was two years older than me, to the Games as a tribute, where he was killed halfway through at the hands of one of those Career tributes from District 1. Believe me, I was devastated when I had to watch my closest friend die on television, and the only thing that kept my spirits up was by singing. People often told me that they enjoyed listening to me sing, so I try to do that for others as often as possible. However, Reaping days are different: nobody is to make a sound unless someone volunteers to take another's place as tribute. And since my family does fairly well with their jobs, I had no need to apply for tesserae, my parents always made sure that I was well-fed, clothed, educated and cared for. Others in our district aren't so lucky as I am, they need the tesserae to support themselves in exchange for more tickets in the bowl. Whoever gets chosen as tribute is entirely up to chance.

At exactly one o'clock on the day of the Reaping that year, my family and I headed for the town square where our district's Justice Building is, a stage erected in front of it with several chairs (for our district mayor, mentor and escort) along with a microphone and the two glass bowls filled with small white slips of paper and two Peacekeepers facing the square at street level to make sure whoever is chosen will not make a fuss. The children who are eligible for reaping take their places in age order: youngest in the back, oldest in front, secluded from their families by a perimeter fence. I stand with the other eighteen-year-olds facing the two Peacekeepers for a moment before I turn my head back towards the crowd and see a familiar head of red hair over where the seventeen-year-olds are standing.

Her name is Emma Pillsbury, she's the daughter of a nuclear technician and an energy consultant. She and I are neighbors, so we grew up together and became not only playmates, but childhood friends. Emma is a year younger than I am, and like myself her family makes enough to not have to support themselves with tesserae. She sees me and smiles, I smile back. Hopefully she will not be chosen today, I close my eyes and cross my fingers for luck.

By two o'clock, the square is full and the Reaping ceremony is about to begin. The mayor and mentor take their places on the stage, the television cameras and lights snap on, the video screens on either side of the stage come to life. The mayor gets up from his chair, approaches the microphone and does the standard telling of the story of the foundation of Panem, the introduction of the mentor, then reads the names of the District 5 victors of the past. Our mentor is a man named Devon Caufield, he is currently the only living victor of the district – we don't have many victors here because they are killed off so early on in the Games. Finally our escort, a woman named Shelby Corcoran, crosses to the microphone, standing between the two glass bowls. As a woman from the Capitol, she is wearing outrageously-styled clothing: a bright orange dress, orange jewelry and high-heeled silver shoes. Her hair was styled in a way that I couldn't describe exactly, and it was held in place with a bright orange flower ornament. It is she who announces who the tributes are.

"Happy Hunger Games," she says to the assembled crowd, "and may the odds be ever in your favor! It is time to see which courageous young man and woman will be chosen as tributes for District 5 in the 57th Hunger Games. As customary, we will start with the ladies." The female tribute is always chosen first, that's the way it has always been. Shelby crosses to the bowl containing the girls' names, reaches in with one slender hand, pulls out a slip of paper and looks at the name printed on it before announcing it to everyone.

"Mia Delancey!"

A sixteen-year-old girl with long blonde hair is pushed towards the stage, I can hear a few people screaming in the back – perhaps her family or friends. When one is picked as tribute, there's no going back unless someone volunteers for you. Right now, I am thankful that Emma has been spared as I see Mia standing on stage with Shelby. Nobody applauds, everyone is silent. Shelby then announces that with Mia picked, it is now time to see who will be her male counterpart. The escort goes to the boys' bowl, I am now staring at the ground not seeing what's going on. The next thing I hear is Shelby's voice booming out the name of the chosen male tribute.

"Will Schuester!"

I am now standing on stage beside Mia, looking at the faces of my family, friends and neighbors staring back at me as the mayor now reads the Treaty of Treason. I see Emma start to cry and I wonder what my parents are probably thinking as well. The Panem anthem plays, and as soon as it's over the Peacekeepers take us into custody inside the Justice Building where we are ushered into a room so we can say our goodbyes to our loved ones. Mia's parents and sister arrive first, who tearfully hug her and give her words of advice before their time is up with her. Next, my parents arrive, my mother is in tears. As she hugs me, she tells me that she loves me, then my dad takes her place.

"Stay safe out there, son," he says. "Do your best to win this thing."

"I will," I reply. "I'll give it my all out there, hopefully Henri's spirit will be on my side too." I receive my final visitor, it's Emma. She unhooks the necklace with the gold heart from around her neck, places it in my hand and closes my fingers around it: each tribute is allowed one token from their home district. She wishes me luck before kissing me on the cheek and leaving with my family. When this is done, Mia and I are taken in a black car to the district train station, where we are to board the special tribute train that will take us to the Capitol.

All of a sudden, I feel scared.