Breakfast did little to calm Krista's frazzled nerves, her family uncharacteristically silent as each of them ate, tension in the air between them. Krista was sure other families would have held hands that day, but hers chose to ignore the events ahead all together, as they did every year.

To begin with, Krista's relationship with her family was already strained. Her father constantly regarded her with eyes full of resentment, and her mother's full of sadness. When she was a child, a single look from her father could make her feel unwanted and confused, and even send her into a bout of tears. It wasn't until Krista got older, and looked at herself in the mirror that she finally understood the angry glances and the tightening of his mouth. To put it shortly, she was either a genetic anomaly, or…..

The clearing of a throat, distracted Krista from her thoughts. Her blue eyes glanced at her mother. "Todays the day…." Her mother said, her voice straining. "We need to make sure you look presentable."

No one wanted to say it. Not the word. The reaping. The day the Capitol put children to death. Krista's name was going to be put into that accursed bowl four times. She was unlucky enough to have had her 15th birthday just a month prior, not that it would have mattered much. There were a lot children in District 3, so she had about as much chance being picked as the others.

The routine had become more and more familiar to her each passing year. Still, in the back of her mind a sick part of her almost wanted to be picked. Like maybe she could win and give everyone in her District hope. Which was ridiculous. Krista had zero fighting skill, and her tiny, fragile body certainly didn't help matters. There was no pride in being picked in District 3 unlike some of the other Districts; District 1 having a handful of career tributes as opposed to her district which had zero. District 3 had one winner in the past, but from what Krista had heard, she was a little on the crazy side.

Krista looked back her mother with a sad smile and nodded, "Maybe I could wear my hair up…?"

Each age group had a separate section, all years roped off from other years. Krista stood somewhere in the middle, those around her completely silent. No one spoke a word at the reapings, mostly out of fear of being hit. District 3 was notorious for "rebel-like attitude". In the past, there had been participants unwilling to be held down, but that changed very quickly when the Peacekeepers had beaten them within an ounce of their life. Now, everyone stood side-by-side in absolute fear, the younger ones murmuring to one another..

The blonde fidgeted with the small bow on her chest. Of course, her mother had insisted she wear it. To her, it had become a symbol of good luck. Krista had worn the same bow when she was twelve, and since then her mother wanted her to wear it at every reaping. "You haven't been picked yet," she said, "Let's keep it that way.'

Krista risked a glance at the boy's side, part of her wondering who was going to be picked. She wasn't particularly good friends with most of the boys, though they seemed to think differently. When she was younger, many of them tried to win her heart with gifts and charming words. Yes, she thought their advances were sweet, but no matter how hard she tried, she felt no romantic feelings for any of them. The connection wasn't there. While all the girls around her were going doe-eyed over boys, Krista just wasn't interested, much to her friends' dismay.

The Peacekeepers formed a square around the tributes, their stances wide and threatening, arms crossed behind their backs and batons holstered at the hip. It would be impossible for anyone to get either in or out unharmed. Their presence always made Krista feel uneasy. Too many times had she watched the Peacekeepers harm innocent people. It was hard to imagine there was a human beneath that helmet.

Silence fell as a very eccentric-looking female walked up to the mic, her bright blue hair matching the eyeshadow that went up to her eyebrows, and the 4-inch stilettos that she stumbled on as she walked up the stairs to the stage. Her face lit up as she tapped the microphone, a grin spreading across her face, making Krista feel a little queasy. "Tributes, Tributes…..Hello, and welcome to the reaping for the Hunger Games!" The woman's tone was cheerful, as if she announcing the arrival of a rockstar. "Now, before we begin, I just want to say I have a strong feeling that this District will have a victor this year! I mean, each District should win at least one year, right?"

The woman pointed to the glass bowl at her right. "Since girls went first last year, what do you say we switch it up?" She waited as if someone would respond to her which, of course, they didn't. "Now, for the boys…!" She stepped to the right, and stuck her heavily manicured hand into the bowl, taking her sweet time choosing. When the woman's hand finally emerged, she smirked, walking back to the microphone. "The boy that will represent District 3 in this year's Hunger Games is….." She broke the seal, reading carefully over the name before opening her mouth. "Armin Arlert!"

A pause followed the announcement. Everyone was hushed.. It seemed like an eternity until the boys parted, letting the called tribute pass. Krista remembered Armin. He was her age, and looked almost identical to her, what with his blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Many people had mistaken the two of them as siblings, sometimes even twins. He was short for his age, being just a few inches taller than Krista, who was probably the shortest of her entire age group. Usually he was in high spirits when the two talked, but now, even from a distance, Krista could see he was visibly shaking.

As Armin walked up to the stage, he seemed to be in another world. The woman at the microphone smiled menacingly and held her hand out to him. Armin ignored it, standing as still as a statue as he stood beside her. He was crying.

The woman patted his shoulders, "What a fine, young man!" She called to the audience, "I'm sure you will represent District 3 well!" She sauntered back to the microphone, "Now for the girls."

The woman walked to the other glass bowl to her left, stuck her hand in and repeated the process. She held the piece of paper over her head, as she walked up to the microphone, pausing when she stood in front of it. "The girl who will represent District 3 in this year's Hunger Games will be…."

Krista's palms felt sweaty as the woman broke the seal and held the paper out in front her. Krista's sense went into overloaded. Her heartbeat hammered in her eardrums, and she could hear the breathing of the girls next to her, which were shaky. Time seemed to go into slow motion until the woman opened her mouth once again.

"Mina Carolina!"

And that's when everything exploded.

Two girl from both older and younger age groups than Krista started screaming. The Peacekeepers unholstered their batons and strode into the crowd as people started to panic.

As the youngest was grabbed, she screamed, "NO, PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T! SHE'S MY SISTER!"

Krista felt light-headed. She swayed as the people around her shouted and screamed. Everything felt so far away, and in the midst of everything, she found herself opening her mouth.

"I volunteer."

The chaos slowed to a stop as the people around took notice. Krista was left wondering what exactly came over her when the woman on the stage excitedly shouted into her microphone. "Oh, we have a volunteer! Well, don't be shy then, come on up here."

The crowd around her started to part as she slowly made her way to the stage. Against her will, a burst of excitement went through Krista. Maybe she could help her District. Even if she died, Krista would be the one who volunteered, and maybe she could spread hope. She'd die for something.

The walk felt so much longer than it actually was, all her fellow classmates staring as she climbed the stairs. As soon as she got to the top step, the woman at the microphone gently grabbed her arm and lead her to the spot in the middle of the stage. Here, she stood with Armin who stared, his eyes red and puffy. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Krista took a shaky breath, and leaned forward into the microphone, "Krista Renz."

"Well, District 3 has its first volunteer tribute, how exciting!" The woman spread her arms in a gesture, "There you have it. The tributes for this year's Hunger Games are Armin Arlet and Krista Renz."

"May the odds be ever in your favor."