A/N: I'm having some serious problems writing my interview chapter, because it's just so many words. This idea has been nagging at me for a while, and I'm hoping by getting it down, I'll be able to focus better on my current story.

"Katniss, I'm scared," I say.

"About the reaping?" she asks. I nod. "Don't worry, your name is only in there once, you're not going to get picked."

"But you might." I insist.

"I won't," she says. She shakes her head, as if it would remove the unpleasant idea from her mind. "I promise."

I hold out my pinkie, and she gives a small laugh, then shakes it with her larger one.

"Time to go," mother mutters.

"Alright," I say, heading for the door.

"Wait!" Katniss calls. She walks over to be, and there's a rustling sensation at my lower back as she tucks in the back of my shirt. "Better tuck in that tail, little duck."

I giggle. "Quack," I say, smiling a little.

"Quack yourself," she says, smiling.

On the forty-five minute walk to the Square, I ponder the unfairness of the Capitol. Not out loud, of course; I wouldn't want Katniss to know that I understand what she and Gale Hawthorne talk about, behind closed doors. I just think to myself. Even if our ancestors did do some things that were... frowned upon, why does the President think that continuing to pit 24 of us against each other in a death match 74 years later will stop it from happening again? I mean, if anything, it would make people want to rebel even more... Wouldn't it?

We get to the Square just in time. A masked Peacekeeper takes a sample of my blood, and I inhale sharply at the sudden pain. Katniss walks me to the twelve year old section before she goes with the other sixteen-year-olds. I stand next to Rory Hawthorne, and we chat a bit before the reaping begins. We're both nervous, because even though this is our first reaping, and even though both of us only have our names in the bowls once, Katniss and Gale are entered many more times than merchant class citizens of their age group.

All too soon, our manic escort Effie Trinket mounts the stage, stumbling in her tall pink heels, wig slightly lopsided. I tune out most of the speeches, because I've head them eleven times before. Rebellion, repentance, paying our dues, lone victor. I snap out of my trance only when Effie calls out "Ladies first!"

She walks over to the female reaping bowl slowly, as if to build suspense. She suddenly snatches a slip from the very top and opens it, ever so carefully. She takes a breath and says in a calm, clear voice "Katniss Everdeen!"

No. Not Katniss. She wasn't supposed to get reaped. She promised she wouldn't get reaped. She was supposed to stay and protect me; to help mother out of her depression. Katniss is the provider, if she was gone, I could never be able to provide for mother and I, let alone Buttercup and Lady. The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

A/N: Would you look at that? I already have more ideas for my main story.

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