A/N: Hey, guess who's making her comeback! Sorry this fic has been dead for a while, that's entirely my fault since Mango can't write the next chapters till i finish mine. I've got good reasons to suspect I have ADHD. Anyways a HUGE HUG thank you to my friend Dragonbookworm1 for a) continuously making me write and b) writing at least half of this because I have the attention span of a goldfish and the focusing skills of a hyperactive puppy. She deserves all the love. Once again because I need everyone to see it, THANK YOU Dragonbookworm1 FOR REPEATEDLY BEING THE REASON THIS CHAPTER GOT FINISHED! Moving on, enjoy the chapter!


DISTRICT SEVEN REAPING: AMBER ATKINSON, WRITTEN BY CRAZY

I hurriedly brush my teeth. Jason told me to meet him at noon, and I'm already almost late. I spit the saliva-infested toothpaste in the sink and watch it swirl down the drain. I drag my hairbrush through my short blond locks, watching as the tangles disappear. I look into the mirror and give myself a pep talk. "Don't get chosen." I glare back at the fierce, dark blue eyes reflecting in the mirror. Enough of that, I need to get to Jason's. He's probably already waiting for me, as usual.

I shove my feet into my shoes, grab my jacket, and run to the house next door. The door swings before I can even finish the knock, knock, knock-knock, knock.

"What took you so long?" he asks as he half walks, half jogs with me down the dirt road.

"Sorry. My house was bombed, my parents were burned alive, and I got caught up saving a few innocent loggers from a falling tree, stopped with my incredibly strong muscles." I flex my arm to demonstrate my strength.

"Woah, Amber, I might actually believe you if I didn't know you were so sarcastic." He pokes my flexed arm and laughs. "I've never seen a 17-year-old girl with such big muscles, except maybe the jerky Careers that train for the Games their entire life."

I laugh good-naturedly. "Well, the jerky Careers haven't been chopping lumber every day since they could hold an axe, so I must be even stronger than them!"

"I wish I had arms like yours. All the guys at school do."

"Of course they do. Mine are the best."

Jason turns to me and asks, "Oh, I forgot to ask, have you heard the new thing about us?"

"Last I heard we were only dating because I was trying to seduce you into telling me all your 'logging secrets.' Pshh, as if. I'm the one with all the juicy gossip on logging."

He laughs again, his hazel eyes glinting in the sun. "Then I'll get you up to date on the latest crazy conspiracy." I nod for him to continue. "Okay, so apparently everyone thinks we're on-again, off-again boyfriend and girlfriend. We hide our relationship because we're embarrassed about how rocky it is."

I snort. "I can't believe those idiots think we're a couple. Yeah, we've known each other since the day we could walk, but that doesn't mean we're in love with each other. Well, I love you, but not romantically."

"Right back at you."

The crowd of people comes into sight, and a swarm of butterflies-no, butterflies are delicate. I feel like a thousand knives are being shoved into my stomach. What if Jason gets picked? The knives twist simultaneously.

"Wow, we actually got here on time for once. I was thinking about leaving you behind this year, slowpoke." Jason interrupts my anxious thoughts, and I silently thank him.

I give him a half-hearted glare. "This is where we part. Good luck, Jason."

"See ya later, Amber. Good luck to you, too." We go our separate ways. I join the seventeen-year-olds and search for Jason in the crowd.

"Hi! I'm Ashpen. Have we met before? Your face seems familiar." I turn around to find a girl with shockingly white skin. I thought I was pale, but this girl far surpasses me.

"No, I think I'd remember you," I reply coldly.

"Really? Am I that memorable? What is it about me?" She looks genuinely curious about why I would remember her.

"Your overly charming personality," I say to her. When will the Reaping start? I'd prefer listening to the mayor, drone on about the history of the games than endure this girl's endless questions.

"And you didn't tell me your name. It's common courtesy to introduce yourself when som-"

"Do I look like I care about common courtesy?"

Ashpen (stupid name anyways. Who names their kid Ashpen?) is taken aback for a moment. "Well, I guess not. But can you at least tell me your name?"

"No." I turn around and act like I'm interested in the people setting up onstage, hoping she'll leave me alone.

"So are you nervous?" I grit my teeth and sigh. There's only one way to get rid of people like her.

"No." I turn around to face her and feign kindness. "But I'm going to tell you something very important. You need to listen carefully, okay?"

Ashpen nods, excited by my mood change.

I lean in close and whisper to her, "You are the most annoying person in the Districts. Get out of my face."

The girl's eyes widen and she runs away, probably to blabber to her friends, if that runt has any.

The mayor walks on stage to deliver his speech. He couldn't have done this two minutes ago? The speech drags on, and it seems to go on for hours.

"...and that, my friends, is how the Games came to be. Now, please welcome Bubblyn Bright, your escort." Everyone gives an obligatory round of applause as Bubblyn steps forward. She has shockingly bright blue dress, hair, eyeshadow, lipstick, all I see is blue, blue, blue.

"Well, let's get straight to it then, shall we?" Bubblyn says in her high-pitched voice. "As usual, ladies first." Her hand reaches into the bowl and shuffles around. I know I won't get picked.

"Amber Atkinson."

Well slap my socks and call me an idiot. I'm dumbfounded. Out of the hundreds of names in that stupid bowl, mine gets picked. I make my way up to the stage. I'm putting on a brave face, but my mind is hardly processing anything. Bubblyn puts her hand into the male's bowl, and shuffles it around some more.

Pleasenotjasonpleasenotjasonpleasenotjason. I repeat the mantra in my mind again and again as she pulls out one of the pieces of paper.

"Cian Phade."

My panic ebbs. Not Jason.

The boy—Cian—walks up unafraid. My eyes stray behind him, looking for my best friend. I'm unable to find him in the sizable crowd.

"Give it up for this year's tributes, Amber Atkinson and Cian Phade!" Bubblyn announces. Everyone enthusiastically applauds, glad they're not going to be killed by vicious teenagers in the near future. My eyes scan the crowd for Jason one last time before Bubblyn leads me and the other tribute to the Justice Building. I only have to wait for about two minutes before my parents come in, immediately engulfing me in a hug.

They step back, and the lines on their faces are even more pronounced than usual. I can plainly see the pity and worry in their eyes, and tears in my mom's.

"Amber…" Mom starts, but she can hardly get that out, much less words of comfort or encouragement. The tears she had been holding in slowly leak out, tracing sad, wet lines along her cheek.

"It's okay, Mom," I say, forcing a confident smile onto my face. "Don't worry. In a couple of weeks you'll see me on TV in the Capitol, standing on a pedestal with a crown on my head and servants at my feet." That puts the tiniest of smiles onto her face.

My dad is a lot less emotional than my mom, but I know he doesn't care any less. He says what Mom had been trying to say, "Amber, we are so, so proud of you. You're so tough, and I know you'll be able to make it through this. We will miss you while you're gone, though, kiddo." Here his voice catches, but he clears his throat and moves on. "I love you, Amber."

I'm a little surprised at this, because my parents know I don't exactly like affection, verbal or physical. But this time it feels… right. This could be the last time I see them. But no, I can't think like that.

"I don't know what we would do if you-" Dad's voice fails him, but I know where he's going. That's the most likely scenario, that I die a violent death while having it broadcasted to millions of people. But I can't exactly tell that to my dad. I have to keep their hopes up.

"No, Dad. Do you have no faith in me?"

"You know that's not what I-" he starts.

"That's not going to happen. And even if it did, Jason would be there to help you out, do things you can't do-"

He interrupts me with his voice raised. "But Jason isn't you!"

My mom and I both look at him in surprise. I had only heard him raise his voice once in my entire life. One of the guards pokes his head in, and asks if everything's okay. We assure him that we're fine, and he gives us a two minute warning. My dad nods.

There was a short silence. "Yes, I suppose Jason could help us with the chores and such, but you make us happy, Amber. Our life would be bland and boring without you in it."

At this point, even I'm starting to get a bit teary-eyed.

I pull my parents into a hug. I know, I know, I said I didn't like physical affection, but this could be the very last chance I get to hug them, or even see them. "I'm going to miss you," I say in a low voice.

My mom says, "Oh, Amber. We're going to miss you so very much."

The two guards come in, telling us our time is up. "Good luck," my dad says, and my mom echoes it.

"Thanks," I tell them.

My parents are dragged out of the room and a couple minutes later they send Jason in. He smiles, but I can tell it's forced. "Hey," I say with an ironic smile.

"Hey. So… how you feeling?"

I snort. "Like I'm about to go fight two dozen bloodthirsty teenagers in a few weeks."

Jason gives me a grim smile. "That is a valid feeling to be feeling right now. Do you have a strategy? Like… maybe you could hide away while the others slaughter each other."

"That might work. Or I could break up the Careers this year by turning them against each other."

"Brilliant! It's foolproof."

As I laugh with my best friend, the stress of the last half hour falls away. "Of course it is. It's my plan. My flawless plans never fail." I give an exaggerated bow and Jason claps his hands.

"Bravo, Bravo!" We both burst out laughing.

I say, "Well, with your advice and incredibly superhuman strength,"-I pretend to take a swing at Jason's face to demonstrate-"there's no way I won't come home. When I win, you can brag to the entire school that your best friend is famous. My name will be in our history books!"

"I can't wait for that moment," Jason says.

My face turns somber as I think about the reality of the situation. "Jason… you know I probably won't come home."

"I know. I wish you could."

I sigh. "I wish I could, too, but we don't always get what we wish. If I don't come back, take care of my parents for me, would you? They'll be devastated."

Jason nods. "You know I will, Amber. They're practically my parents, too." The guard outside tells us to wrap it up.

"Thanks, Jason. You're a great friend. Like, a brother, but less annoying."

"The same to you. But sister. 'Cause you're a girl."

I give him a half-hearted glare. "Did you really need to state that?"

He scrutinizes me. "Yeah, it's hard to tell what gender you are. Boy, girl, goat. I don't know."

I roll my eyes. "I take back the part about you being less annoying than a brother. I think you're more annoying than a brother."

He gives a half-hearted smile, then his eyes get sad. "I'm going to miss you, Amber. Words can't describe how much I'll miss you." He holds his arms out and gives me a questioning look. Can I give you a hug? I oblige, wrapping my arms around him. The guards come in, signaling our time is up. Bubblyn follows them in, ready to escort me to the car. I let go of Jason.

"Bye, Jason."

"Goodbye, Amber."

We exit the room, one guard taking Jason, and one guard coming with me and Bubblyn. We pick up the other tribute, Cian, and head to the car that will take us to the Capitol. It's small and cramped, but I can't complain. I haven't exactly seen too many cars in Seven. I might've been in one once. After a short car ride, we arrive at the station. There are a dozen or more cameras flashing in our faces, and I turn mine away to hide my face. We hop into the train car, and a couple minutes later, we start moving.

"So, who's excited?" Bubblyn bubbles, drawing out the latter word.

I feel a burst of anger. She leads kids to their death every year and she's asking if we're excited? "Yeah, I'm super excited to get maimed by a teenager. How's your day going?" I say scathingly. I cross my arms and sit back in my chair.

Bubblyn is taken aback, but soon regains her cheerfulness, which now seems forced. "Alright. What about you, dear?" She looks at the boy.

He shrugs, looking down at his shoes.

"I'm doin' this for my sister. But I'm not all that excited about it."

Bubblyn purses her lips. "Well, I advise you to enjoy this while it lasts, children. Because it may not last for long."

The train's rumble is actually calming my nerves. I try to prepare myself for all the craziness that's about to happen, but no one can fully prepare for the Hunger Games.