A/N: I wanted to try out writing this new story. I'm not sure how long i can keep it up, i might run out of ideas, sadly. Please tell me how you like it 33 CoolBeans.

For the sake of this story, there is a fourteenth district. This district's main export or theme (like District 12's is coal/mining) is automail. They are one of the poorer districts, but better off than Districts 11 and 12. As far as the Games go, they aren't really a district where winning is a "great honor." While the workers in this district are usually strong and tough, they don't usually join the careers.

Here goes;

I woke up before dawn, my body covered in a layer of sweat which made me shiver. I pulled the thin sheet up to my chin and rolled over to look across the room at my little brother. Alphonse and I had been living with the Rockbell's since I was ten. Al is a year younger than me. My father died right after Al was born in a factory accident, and our mother got very sick a few years ago.

I'm sixteen. I live in the fourteenth District in a country called Panem. Every year there is a drawing. One boy and one girl is selected from every district to participate in a monstrous event called the Hunger Games. The object of this "game", is to be the last one standing. The twenty-six children, between the ages of 12 and 18 fight to the death. I'm deathly scared to be picked for the Games, and twice as scared for Al to be picked. Today is the Reaping.

Its one o'clock and Granny is putting the final touches on our best clothes, which are rarely worn. The lunch on the table is the nicest we've had in a while because today is supposed to be a celebration, but none of us can eat. In our household, there are three viable candidates for the Games; Winry, Alphonse and I. Winry and I are the same age, we've been friends basically since birth. Her parents are dead too, we live with her grandmother.

"Edward, try to smile." she says in her raspy voice, reaching up to touch my chin. Granny is a small lady, coming up to about my chest and I'm only five foot five. Winry and Al are both taller than I am and it pisses me off. I mean, I'm a year older than Al for Christ's sake!

"Granny, we should be going down to the square now." Winry says timidly. The Reaping is a horrible day for Winry. She had an older brother who died in the Games.

Granny nods and we all stand up. Granny doesn't usually leave the house anymore, so we know we'll be walking to the square alone.

The town square is where it all happens. The walk down there is silent. It's still silent as we reach the square and family members are hugging, or saying goodbye just in case. Winry and I go to stand with the sixteens while Al stays behind with his class. We have a ritual of not saying goodbye, but Winry grabs Al's hand and gives it a squeeze before we depart from him.

It feels like forever until the fancy man from the capitol with his odd accent stands up on stage with a huge fake smile on his face.

"Good afternoon District Fourteen!" he says into the microphone with a booming voice. "I'm here to select the lucky tributes for this year's Hunger games!" His smiling eyes pan over the crowd, and he winks at a nearby camera, which is recording our Reaping for all of Panem to see later.

There are two living former tributes who have won the Hunger Games, and they along with District 14's mayor are sitting on stage looking miserable behind the fancy man from the Capitol. I know that the living tribute's job is to train and mentor the new tributes. One of them, is very close to us, and gives our little family money sometimes, because he was Winry's brother's mentor, and he feels bad for not being a good enough mentor. We know that it wasn't his fault, but he feels that it is, and that's why he helps us out.

Winry takes a step closer to me and presses her arm against mine as the Capitol man finishes his speech and walks over to the giant glass balls filled with the names of the children in our district.

"Ladie's first!" he says in his booming accented voice, and shoves a meaty hand in the bowl. The fake smile never leaves his face as he reads out the poor child's name. "Maria Ross!" he says.

I know Maria Ross. She's an eighteen year old and i've seen her at school. She's a small girl with short dark hair and a mole under her left eye. My friend Brosch has always thought she was cute. I look around for Brosch, and see him a few feet away. He has his jaw set and is looking straight ahead as he watches her climb the steps to the stage. I know he planned to marry her one day. My stomach clenches as I think of how i would feel if Winry's name was called.

The fancy man claps Maria on the back, and she lets out a small sob. Even from here, I can see the tears running down her cheeks. She isn't cut out for the Games. It's sad but true, but she knows she won't survive.

Still smiling as brightly as ever, clearly ignoring the Maria's obvious terror, the man walks over to the bowl of boys names. I glance over at Winry and she's trying not to cry, I know it.

I'm still looking at Winry when the man calls out a name, and Winry slaps her hand over her mouth, but i can still hear the sob. The tears start leaking from her eyes. She turns and looks at me. I look up at the stage and notice people are looking at Winry. No, not Winry. Me.

A/N: I want to stop here for now, yes i know it's a short chapter, but it is the first so get over it.