Reaping day was never one of dread and fear in district 4 as it was in many other districts. It was rather a day of anticipation, yet anxiety and tension as well. You could see this on the faces of the citizens on this particular morning. Perhaps dread was a factor with many, but no one would show it – not in district 4 and certainly not on reaping day when peacekeepers were swarming the place. It was part of the image that district 4 had to keep for a very long time as a career district. Any slip and they would be no different than those of districts 11 and 12 in the eyes of the Capitol.

The school cafeteria projected more or less as much anticipation and anxiety as the households did, Finnick noticed as he entered the food court. Every year on Reaping day, their school day would get interrupted before the usual 3 pm final bell, since Reaping started at 2. Their final class would end at 11 – which was usually followed by a lunch break - and all the students would then head to the cafeteria in waiting for the district horn to sound, signaling to the people of the district that they must head towards the main town square for the public Reaping.

As Finnick headed towards the usual lunch table where Axon and Kreesa sat, he couldn't but notice their increased tension in comparison to yesterday – not that they weren't fighters, but both had siblings to worry about. As he took his seat next to Axon, Assile arrived with a near empty tray carrying only a bottle of water and an apple, with Grey following behind.

"Aren't you hungry?" Finnick asked, eyeing her empty tray with a concerned look.

"I've lost my appetite. Anything other than an apple and I think I'll throw up." He couldn't blame her. If it weren't for him leaving the house this morning on an empty stomach, he probably wouldn't have had much of an appetite too. Even Grey's usual cheerful demeanor was somehow missing today, Finnick noticed as he took his seat next to Assile. Well, or so he thought.

"Cheer up guys!" Grey suddenly perked up. "Next thing you know, it'll be over and we'll be dancing on the beach, chilling with spirits, and having a blast. We'll be cheering on and placing our bets on whoever plays, and all the better if Reese volunteers, that way we can place bets on who gets to kick his ass first on national television." He finished with a chuckle, somehow lightening the mood slightly.

"I like how you put it Grey," Axon retaliated, "but problem is, it's not even 1 yet, and the Reaping doesn't start till 2, so we're not really past through this yet. Let's just hope for the best, instead of assuming that our names and our siblings' are not in that stupid bowl."

"If you say," Grey muttered in a low tone, clearly displeased. "Speaking of which, do you really think Reese will volunteer? He's been talking about it for ages."

Kreesa made a choking sound while swallowing her food, "Reese always has been talking about it for ages, and surprisingly still is for two years!" Kreesa scoffed, spitting out the remains of what was in her mouth onto a piece of tissue. Just as she said that, Reese's tall figure passed by their table, clearly having overheard them, as his eyes were shooting daggers at Kreesa. However, very contrary to his usual reaction in such situations, he only headed towards his usual lunch table, without speaking or retaliating to any of them.

"Either that boy is still mourning from yesterday," Kreesa continued, gesturing towards Assile as she spoke, "or he's shitting his pants now that he realized it's Reaping Day and he has been assuring everyone that he'll volunteer." Finally, everyone laughed along, even Axon, glad to have been distracted by Kreesa's light sense of humor. And so for a short while they were able to forget about the horrors lying ahead. For a short while, they were able to laugh again, chat about mundane topics, and laugh at Reese - but only for a short while.

The blast of the horn was nearly deafening as it echoed across the school halls, in sync with the chiming huge cafeteria clock that just stroke at 12. It was like a wake-up call back to reality, and true enough, all the tension and anxiety was back. After the split-second silence that followed the sound of the horn, everyone began to stand up, pack their bags, clear food trays, and get ready to head outside the school grounds.

As Finnick and the others made their way outside to the school's main playground, they found their younger siblings all huddled together, waiting for them by the school's gate. Arielle was amongst them, waiting with an apparent fear in her eyes, being this the very first Reaping in which she'll have to attend. Although she would not be taking part in the Reaping, her mother still made sure she was adequately dressed, in a new blue dress that greatly contrasted her eyes. She looked adorable, and if the occasion were anything other than the Reaping, her smile would've been there, and she would've looked even more adorable.

"Hey there little princess." Finnick knelt in front of his sister, giving her the usual kiss on her cheek. "You ready?"

"I think so," she replied solemnly, before adding: "Do we have to go? Can't we just go to the beach where Kori is?" How he wished they could've, Finnick thought regretfully.

"I'm afraid not princess. But after the Reaping we'll go. That way we know we got it over with." He tried to muster as much of a smile as he could, in the hopes of cheering his sister up. It seemed to have worked, since her mouth slightly twitched upwards in response.

"Ok!" she merely replied.

"Ready to go?" Axon called out with the others waiting behind him, with his two younger siblings – Shell and Lisa - clinging to his hands from either side. Shell was being particularly jittery and restless as if the hand she held was one she was clinging on for dear life. Finnick didn't need to question why – she just turned 12 this summer. Shell's name would be in the bowl this year. Lisa on the other hand had three more years to go.

"Where's Ray?" Finnick asked, suddenly realizing Axon's missing brother. He was about Finnick's age and was in most of Finnick's classes in school.

"He went to with Annie and Thresh to the beach to drop off Kori and Rue. I'll see him there at the square. Right, let's go."

They started to make their way out of the school gates and head towards the main town square with all the hoard of children walking in the same direction. Attendance was mandatory for all aged seven or above unless one was dying. Straight after the Reaping, peacekeepers would storm through the district households and beaches to ensure if this were the case. If not, those who missed the Reaping would be severally punished, and if they also happened to be eligible to have their name in the bowl, they would be publicly executed for their 'defiance of the Capitol'. So no one missed, not since the first quarter quell thirty nine years ago when a 15-year-old boy was hanged in public after he was found hiding in a cave during the Reaping.

Unfortunately, every year the Reaping took place in one of the most pleasant areas of district 4 – the famous main town square. It would always be busy with the morning hustle of citizens running off to their errands, and a "hang out" arena in the evenings – one in which Finnick has spent most of his childhood in. Surrounded by shops and a public market, the main square always projected a holiday-merry feel to it. Despite its more colorful appearance today, with all the lavish Capitol banners hung on buildings and street boards, as well as the many cameramen perched everywhere around the square, Finnick could not help but only detect an air of grimness, although nothing of the sort was clearly projected on the citizens now filing in by the masses.

The sign-in procedure was usually quite long and time-consuming, since each child had to be individually identified by blood type and fingerprint, and district 4 was a one of the bigger and hence more populated districts.

"This is it. Here we are," Axon spoke, as they finally stopped just before the lines of children waiting for identification. "So I guess this is where we split up as usual."

"Finnick!" Finnick turned around in search for the source of the shout. It was his father. Behind him, his mother and Axon's mother – who by her appearance looked like she was suffering a severe case of sleep deprivation – appeared. Without hesitation, Lisa – Axon's youngest sister – went to join her mother. Arielle on the other hand, refused to let go of her brother's hand.

"Arielle," Charles spoke as he approached his two children. "We have to go stand there at the back, Finnick is a big boy. He can take care of himself."

The 7-year-old looked once more at her brother, as if waiting for confirmation from him to leave with her father. Finnick nodded to her with a smile, and slowly, she let go of his hand to take her father's instead.

"Good luck Son," Charles said, patting his son on the shoulder. Without further ado, he turned to leave with Arielle and his mother, who blew him a goodbye kiss before she headed with the rest towards the families' section.

Turning around to face his friends once more, he looked at them with a concerned look, yet the last thing he chose to say was: "Well I guess I'll see you all later," and with that he made his way towards one of the lines, which has become significantly shorter as many have now already filed in. The others followed his lead.

As Finnick reached the front, he readily gave his arm to the Capitol attendant, waiting for the prick of the needle that would extract his blood for identification. It was only a small prick, yet knowing that it was the official sign in to the Reaping, it superficially felt more painful than it was supposed to. As he made his way in to the line of the fourteen-year-olds, he could feel the space getting tighter, more claustrophobic as more children filed in after sign in. The town square was humongous, yet district four's population was an approximate one million, with around two hundred thousand aged between twelve and eighteen. You can only fit so much in one space no matter how humongous. Many families had to in fact wait around the outskirts of the square, where screens were fixed in order to televise the event.

Finnick found himself standing around mid-way between the stage and the sign-in desks, with a sea of younger children all filling up the space in front. The stage was lavishly set up and decorated. One side of it was occupied by several rows of seats, while the center held a silver podium. The mayor of district four – mayor Hanes – his wife, and several other officials of the district, occupied the front row. On the seats behind, all the past victors of district four were seated. As a career district, district four was able to boast a number of twenty-one victors, a third of the total number of victors, of which sixteen of them were alive. All sixteen were present today, the oldest being 60-year old Mags – district four's first and only living female victor – and the youngest Cinna Kleffield, aged 23 and having won the games six years back.

Finnick could now spot Ray filing into the line behind him, looking somehow nervous. Catching his eye, Ray waved to him with a relieved expression, glad to have spotted a familiar face amid this crowd. As everyone began to settle down, Finnick was finally able to spot Assile from over the girls' section. When she too spotted him, she mouthed a silent good luck. He nodded back to her in return, before focusing back onto the stage, as the crowd miraculously silenced down.

Just as the clock stroke two, a tall slender woman wearing a dark red suit and heels for shoes, with her brown hair done up in a neat bun stepped onto the stage and up to the podium. It took a while for Finnick to register that this would be their new Capitol escort for the games. That was surprising – their old escort never failed to keep away flashy colors, bright white face paint and colorful wigs off her appearance. This new escort on the other hand looked… well normal! While she did apparently apply makeup to her face, it was nowhere near as heavy and freakish as their old escorts'. In fact the only obvious eye-catch on her face was her red lipstick, which did not look half-bad with her overall poised appearance.

"Good Afternoon, citizens of district 4, and welcome to the sixty fifth annual Reaping!" There was a round of applause following her greeting. Even her voice lacked the usual bubbly and singsong tones that most Capitol escorts projected. Instead she spoke in a rather professional and straightforward monotone, as if she were addressing a group of politicians. "My name is Stacey Freeda, and as of today, I am district's four new escort to the annual Hunger Games. I would like to also welcome the honorable mayor of district four, mayor Hanes." Another round of applause projected at the mention of the mayor. "And please, a very warm welcome to all sixteen victors present here today." The clapping turned from monotonous to hearty cheering as Stacey Freeda listed the victors' names, ending with Cinna Kleffield, who garnered the biggest applause. Obviously he was the most popular.

"Now," she continued after everyone was silent again, "before we choose our tributes, I would like to present to you a special video from the Capitol, that for those who do not know, will explain the background and history of this annual ceremony." As if that's even possible, Finnick thought, for no one to know. It's not like the Capitol ever allowed room for people to ignore the existence of the Hunger Games.

As the video played, it told the same old story as every year. In fact, it was the exact same video as every year. It retold and depicted the history of Panem, the country that rose up out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America. No details were given about what North America was or used to be or anything concerning its civilizations. The video listed the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the encroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, and the brutal war for what little sustenance remained. The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens. Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol. Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. The Treaty of Treason gave the districts the new laws to guarantee peace and, as their yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gave them the Hunger Games.

Taking the kids from the districts, forcing them to kill one another while their families, friends and the whole nation watched — this was the Capitol's way of reminding them how totally the districts were at their mercy. Even worse, everyone was obliged to treat the Hunger Games like a festivity, a sporting event and a ceremony. What sickened Finnick even more, was that many actually did see it as a festivity.

When the video reached it's ending, Stacey Freeda stepped up to the podium again. "Right, as you can see, the Hunger Games entitle us today to choose two tributes, one boy and girl to compete in this year's Games. As usual, volunteers are allowed once a tribute has been reaped. Preference does not go towards the reaped tribute, but rather towards the first requesting volunteer."

There was something odd about this escort, Finnick thought incredulously. Not only was she calmer, and less flamboyant that a regular Capitol citizen, but her demeanor did not generally project that she was happy or exhilarated with this so-called ceremony. Could it be that she hated the Games too?

"And finally," she added, "I wish everyone a Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

It was time for the drawing now. She made her way to one of the two huge glass bowls, set on a table. The boys' bowl! "Contrary to what you were probably used to every year with ladies going first, I would like to have a change of habit and go for the boys first this year."

She reached in, dug her hands deep into the bowl, and pulled out a white crisp slip of paper. The crowd was stunningly silent. Any pin drop could be heard. Not one breath could be heard, as it appeared that everyone was collectively holding one. Finnick was now looking at the escort, feeling quite nauseous because of the constant flipping of his stomach. Just say out the name, he thought desperately. Get it over with. Let us go and enjoy the beach and the sun, and the relief of another safe year. She opened the piece of paper, now the name clearly visible to her. Her eyes averted back to the crowd before uttering these next two words:

"Finnick Odair!"

One winter, when Finnick was only 6, he remembered falling into a freezing pond, because of standing on thin ice. When he fell in, it felt like there were a thousand knives stabbing at him on every bit of skin he possessed in his body. It was fiery and harsh, and if it were not for his father getting him out of the pond on time, he would've died then.

This was exactly how he felt right now, stabbed a thousand times over, except that it was worse, since there was no one to save him as his father did eight years ago. He was trying to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, totally stunned as his name echoed out across the huge town square. Apparently, the shock did only paralyze him alone. He could even hear gasps erupting from several kids, shocked at this revelation. No one expected this. No one. Finnick Odair, the prince of district 4, the wealthy son of one of district four's wealthiest families, who never ever had any need for tesserae, who amongst hundreds and thousands of slips, had his name only three times inside.

How could this happen? His chances of being chosen were near zero! There were countless others whose names were in there multiple times because of the tesserae! There were countless others who always boasted to wanting to volunteer! Well apparently not anymore. Not one male sole out of the hundred thousand stepped up to claim his place.

As he slowly moved his feet to make his way out of the crowd, he could feel the eyes of everyone on him, disbelieving, sad and many even angry. Obviously, the citizens of district four were not happy about sacrificing their golden boy. Yes, he was a great fighter and swimmer, but then again, he was only 14! How much will he be able to compete against an 18-year-old for example, from district 2, twice his size?

He was walking now straight towards the stage. It only took minutes to reach the platform, yet the process felt like it would never end. As he slowly climbed the stairs onto the stage, and turned to face his whole district, he realized how terrible it was to be facing that many people at such a moment. He wished they were much less, so that he could easily spot his family and his friends, so that amidst this turmoil, he would not feel alone. But the crowd was huge. He could not spot anyone, no one he wanted to spot. Even Assile and Ray, who he was able to make eye contact with just a few minutes ago, were lost in this suffocating crowd.

Before Stacey Freeda had a chance to comment, a slow yet elaborate clap erupted from amidst the crowd. Finnick averted his eyes to detect the source of the clapping, realizing that it came from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. It was Grey.

"You can do it Finnick! Show them your strength!" Grey shouted with the loudest boom he could muster. At that, everyone else started to clap along with Grey, and in seconds, the whole one million of the population were cheering for Finnick, shouting out his name and whistling. In no time, the cheerful clapping turned into a collective and repetitive chant to his name. They believed in him. They were telling him to fight, to come home. To Win!

He could fight. He could win. And he will! He will come back home. It won't be the last time he sees district 4 or his family. He will fight and win. For his parents. For Arielle.

"Well then," Stacey Freeda continued, in an attempt to silence everyone again. It took what felt like an eternity before everyone did finally silence down. "Congratulations to our boy tribute. We wish you the best of luck Finnick, and apparently everyone seems to do so. And now, it is time for us to choose our girl tribute."

By the time she crossed the stage to the glass bowl with the girls' names, roamed her arm through the pieces of paper in that bowl, and eventually extracted the paper with the chosen girl's name, Finnick barely had time to wish for his friends' safety. He silently prayed that no one he knows gets picked. He was praying for Shell, Axon's little sister; he was praying for Kreesa, for Kreesa's sister; he was praying for…

"Assile Fenning!"