"Cassandra Cirque."

I was amazed.

We were all amazed.

It was amazing, that's why.

Daughter of the Mayor of District One, reaped for the 68th Hunger Games? What a laugh. What a turn of events. What a set up.

I knew it, and my mother knew it, which is why she promptly flipped shit and started screaming. The Peacekeepers, excited at actually having something to do, pounced in and dragged her off while everyone stared at me as if I had two heads. Which I might have done. I mean, obviously nothing was going in my favor today, so the sudden growth of another head wouldn't be such an out-of-the-blue occurrence. Only as out-of-the-blue, in fact, as the richest fifteen year old in all of the Districts being reaped.

So what do you do in a situation such as this? I don't reckon there's a correct etiquette but either way I slapped a smile on my face and strolled up to the stage as if I hadn't a care in the world. Which I hadn't. It wasn't like my death had just been announced, or anything.

Maria Ingot, the escort and announcer of my fate, stared at me in barely concealed shock as I took my place next to her. I gazed back, wondering what kind of small animal she had used as an eyeshadow brush this morning, until she looked away.

The boy Tribute was announced, everyone clapped, we were hustled away, yada dada dada. Exactly the same as every year.. with a small difference.

District One's girl Tribute had a worth of roughly $9,700.

Apparently I was in the bathroom when God handed out the Favored Odds.

My father knew better than to try and argue. I say that, but in reality he didn't want to draw negative attention to himself, what with him treasuring his big house more than me. My mother went hysterical banshee on my ass, and I eventually yelled at the Peacekeepers to drag her out. We never got along much anyway. She had too much of a taste for the bubbly stuff. I had been taking care of her drunken needs since I was seven.

I had a line of friends come to see me off, and they all played me the same tape: 'How did this happen? OhmaGaaah, this is, like, SO unexpected! We'll miss you... I mean, until you get back, yeah? You'll deffo win!'

Yeah, okay. Rave on.

After half an hour of goodbyes that just served to make me more eager to get to the Capitol already, I was lead to a train with 'District 1' painted on the side. Just in case I forget? I was so busy rolling my eyes at this particular piece of utter crap that I barely realized my mentors were watching me from matching chairs.

Cashmere and Gloss.

See, I might be in possession of a one- way ticket to God's pad, but things could be worse. At least I wasn't called Sparkle.

They started by grilling me on my fighting abilities. "What can you do?"

Um, I can blind them with my wit?

Cripple them with my good looks?

Suffocate them with the second hand smoke off of my Marlboro Golds?

"I... can skip backwards."

They didn't look too impressed. Maybe I should have mentioned my gymnastics medals, or my kickboxing training?

Well, whatever. They'll find out about the latter if they try waking me up before ten AM, I guess.

The quality of our relationship just went downhill from there. They, assuming I was dead meat anyways, didn't bother sweet- talking me, as there was no way my father would hear about anything they said. Instead they focused on my fellow Tribute, an impressively greasy looking boy going by the name of Juke. He turned out to be an eighteen year old skin- bag of sleazy attitude and unpleasant smells.

Unsurprisingly, our mentors gave up on us before they even had a chance to start.

"The odds," I said kindly, "Really aren't in your favor this year, are they?"

If looks could kill, I would have been out cold on the furry carpet with my intestines wrapped around my neck. Luckily, they didn't try anything physically harmful to me. I don't think I would have survived in a fight against Wool and Glisten- oops, sorry, Cashmere and Gloss.

I went and stood by the window for a reviving cigarette, realised I wasn't allowed to smoke in the arena, and promptly burst in to tears.

And that's how the beginning of the end of my life started.