I don't own The Hunger Games.

Randall Mercer:

"Randy! Randy, it's time to come in!"

Maybe if I ignore him, he'll go away. I thought, darting out of Tommy's reach.

"That's not fair, Randy!" He screeched. "You're faster than me!"

"Oh well." I grinned at him and ran away again as he tried to 'tag' me.

"You're nearly eight, Tommy." Sandy frowned, placing her hands on her hips. "Just catch him, already."

"Randy! Come in, now!" My brother yelled from inside the house.

"But I'm playing with my new friends!" I whined back. "Please let me play, Ian. Please, just a few more minutes!"

"No, you'll be late for the Reaping!" Ian yelled back.

"Fine!" I said, stomping my foot into the ground.

"See you later, Randy!" Sandy grinned at me, revealing gaps next to her remaining baby teeth, and waved hard.

"I'll get you next time!" Tommy promised, also waving as I slumped into the house.

I have lots of friends like Sandy and Tommy. I met them in the street today, and I asked them if I could play with them. It's how I met Kyle, and Philippa, and Harris and Louisa. We play catch, or hide and go seek, or tag and even hand games where you have to clap your hand against somebody else's. Louis taught us those ones. Kyle taught us a great game where everybody but one runs, and if that person tabs you then you have to join them until everybody is tabbed. I love playing games with my friends; I'd play all day if I could. Ian always calls me in, though.

"Ian." I whined, stretching out his name so it was more than two syllables. "I wanted to play."

"I know you did, Randy, but you can play after the Reaping. Okay?" He asked, setting down a bowl of cereal in front of me on the table. I spooned it into my mouth as quickly as possible.

"Slow down, you'll be sick." Ian warned, washing dishes in the sink.

"Like mommy?" I asked.

"Yeah. Like mom." He frowned. Our mom is always injecting something in her arm because she's sick. Ian says it helps take the pain away. She gets it from the Capitol so it must be good, right? She has to stay in bed and can't play with me though, because sometimes it knocks her out.

"Ian? What happens if my name is called at the Reaping?" I asked, swirling my spoon around the empty bowl.

"You don't have to worry about that Randy, it won't happen." Ian said.

"Okay." I smiled happily at him as he took my bowl away. "I'll go get dressed."

Kayla Maree Fulton:

"Could you two, like, get a room?"

"Shut up, Chelsea. You're jealous."

"Of you? And him? No way." Chelsea grinned at me and Dexter, before rolling her eyes. If somebody asked me how long I'd been friends with Chelsea, I wouldn't be able to answer properly. Too long is probably what I'd say, but only because she's been my best friend for as long as I can remember and that's just the way we work. When I cry, she cries. When I laugh, she laughs and vice versa. I don't know what I'd do without her. Her long strawberry blonde hair and white smile don't even make me envious- it's just all the more for me to tease her about.

"Whatever. You just want a piece of this for yourself." Dexter joked. We've been together for a while now, and I know that it's only going to end one way. I'll be happy, and so will he. He means so much to me. For starters, he's completely gorgeous. I've always been a sucker for a blonde boy. He's so caring, and nice, and funny. We're like a perfect match and I know that we were built to last.

"You're beautiful. You know that, right?" Dexter whispered in my ear, causing me to blush a little. He's told me that before, and so have others. My blonde hair ends in brown tips, my eyes are emerald and I have naturally tan skin. I'm also taller than most girls my age. What drew me to Dexter was that he looked past all that, whereas most of the other guys in my District saw me for what I am, not who I am. Dexter loves me because of my personality, not because I'm 'hot'.

"Seriously guys. Reaping. Soon." Chelsea pointed out. I split away from Dexter and waved goodbye to him and Chelsea.

The square is always so packed on Reaping day, it makes me feel claustrophobic. I fiddled awkwardly with the silver belt on my blue and white dress while I waited for Chelsea to arrive. The sixteen year old girls' area was rapidly filling, but she managed to find me and tap me on the shoulder.

"You look great." She assured me. I glanced across the square, catching Dexter's eye. He shot me a thumbs up, reminding me that it would be okay. The video started rolling, startling me slightly. I'm not sure if anyone actually bothers watching it- It's the same every year.

"First, the gentlemen!" Our escort is new this year. Her name is Halley Ryder, and her purple wig looked like it was pushing two feet tall.

"Randall Mercer!" She called out, a big grin on her face.

"No!" A boy at the back of the square yelled. He pushed his way through to the walkway. "No! Take me instead!"

"Ian, have I won something?" I heard the boy say. I'm not usually one to point and laugh, but I had to supress a laugh. Chelsea didn't manage to stop her own laugh, but I guess it didn't help that Randall was wearing a bright red and blue outfit with a yellow hat that flopped to the side.

"He's nineteen!" Somebody else yelled. "He can't volunteer!"

Peacekeepers grabbed Randall's arms and dragged him up to the stage.

"What have I won?" He kept asking. I think I know who he is. He's the fifteen year old with the mind of a five year old. I felt bad for laughing at him now.

"Um, a round of applause for Randall then." Halley frowned in confusion at him before moving over to the girls' reaping bowl. Chelsea's fingers grasped mine in a death grip.

"Kayla Fulton!"

What surprised me was that I didn't cry. I held my head high and made my way up to the stage. Why cry? It's not like anybody's going to volunteer even if I do sob my way through this. Sometimes you just have to be strong.

Randall Mercer:

Ian burst through the doors. I knew he'd come to visit me, he'll want to tell me what I've won.

"Randy, you're going somewhere very dangerous." Ian said slowly.

"What?" I asked, confused. "But I won."

"No, no you didn't. You just lost a game." Ian placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"I don't like losing." I frowned.

"I know you don't, but you can still win. The rules are very special, okay? Not everybody likes games, so not everybody will want to play with you."

"But…Why?

"They just won't. They'll try and hurt you if they get the chance. Now, here's the game. Hide from them for as long as you can, or find some people that will be your friends to get rid of the mean people." Ian explained.

"But, I-"

"Listen. At some point, you'll have to leave your friends. Hide from them, and they'll try to find you. You can win by staying hidden. Then, when only one of your friends is left you have to hurt him."

"I don't like hurting people." My bottom lip started to tremble.

"I know that, Randy. I do. But if you want to come back home and play with Sandy and Tommy again, you have to hurt your last friend." Ian hugged me tightly.

"You're good at games Randall. I know that you can win."