District 12 is depressing. Both the smallest and poorest District in all of Panem, there isn't much to do. Sure, there was the schoolhouse for the youth to learn what the Capitol provides, and there's the mine. District 12's export is coal, you see. Every day, hundreds of workers go down to the mines in order to harvest the necessary resources that keep the Capitol warm, and the factories fueled. It's a dangerous profession, hence why you have to be 18 to work there.

The miners have been assigned double shifts in preparation for the annual Hunger Games. It was coming close to Reaping Day, and the entire district was busy with the preparations. Main street was swept and decorated to look good on camera, and the Justice Building had been given a new lick of paint, hiding the blacked walls. An air of apprehension surrounded District 12, and parents held their eligible children closer at night.

"Helena!" Grayson called, trying to wake the thrashing girl. He shook her vigorously, startling the girl awake. She quickly took in her surroundings as tears welled in her eyes. Grayson immediately wrapped the girl in a warm embrace. "Same dream again, sweetheart." The worried father asked. Helena nodded her head. "They took me away from you again and forced me to fight. I don't wanna get Reaped, Papa." The girls sniffed into her father's shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's gonna be alright. This is your first year. You're not gonna get Reaped. Okay?" Grayson stated. "But what if I am?" Helena asked. "Then you fight, you hide, and you try your darn hardest to survive. Just like I taught you to." The father answered in assurance. "Now go to sleep, we all have a big day tomorrow."

The next morning was chaos. Everyone was rushing to get ready: washing, styling hair, and putting on their best clothes. Helena put on a cute little white blouse before putting on a dark blue, knee length pinafore dress. After tying the ribbon at the waist, Helena put her hair into a French braid, securing it at the bottom with a ribbon. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. "I'm gonna be fine." She told herself. She put on a pair of socks before slipping on her school shoes. As she was doing the finishing touches, a horn sounded out across the district. "Come on, Helena, we've gotta go." Her papa called. "Coming!" She responded.

The walk to the justice building was solemn. Families walked hand in hand, whispering silent prayers. No one wanted to be reaped. It was a fate of certain death, especially if you were from one of the outlying districts.

Helena's breath caught in her throat as the pair made it to the square. "I'll see you soon." Grayson said as he pulled his daughter in for a hug. The young girl held on for dear life as a feeling of dread set in her stomach. "All candidates stand with the others in their age group! Twelve year-olds here! Thirteens here!" And unnamed Peacekeeper called out. She quickly made her way to register. After her finger was pricked and scanned for tesserae records (there was none), she was escorted to the area for twelve year old girls, Helena, the youngest amongst them.

In front of the Justice Building sat a podium, three chairs on either side, a microphone, and two large glass balls containing thousands of slips of paper. On each slip, a name... The Square was packed - Helena noticed - by the 8,000 Residents of District 12. They filled the adjacent streets, too. Camera Crew's looked down from rooftops. A grim buzz was in the air, a shared tension between the people of twelve as the wait grew longer and longer.

Finally, people began filling the stage, each sat in their designated seats. Mayor Undersee stood at the podium, District officials to one side of him, and two absurdly dressed women on the other, one chair remained empty. The mayor began to speak into the microphone.

"My Friends of District Twelve, in anticipation of the Sixty-Sixth Hunger Games, I welcome you to Reaping Day..." An anxious applause filled the square whilst Helena stood there trying to stop her shaking hands. "This Day, like The Games themselves, provides us a chance to reflect on the costs of our violent rebellion all those years ago and to be grateful for the kindness now shown to us by the Capitol. It's a time for both repentance and thanks."

Behind Undersee on the stage sat the District Escort Ambrosia Daimont and her trainee Euphemia Trinket (though she goes by Effie). Ambrosia was dressed in a pinstripe suit with shoulder pads decorated with silver structures. Her red hair was done up in an intricate and elegant design secured with dagger like pins. The look was dark. Effie, on the other hand, was dressed in exuberantly bright colours. Her suit dress was green with large puffy sleeves, and her blouse had ruffles galore. Floral appliques were dotted around, matching the fascinator in her pink bun. The seat beside the pair remained unoccupied until...

"Scuse me. Sorry to be late." It was Haymitch Abernathy, stumbling onto the stage, clearly not sober.

The TV cameras zoom in on him as Mayor Undersee continues: "By law, each District is required to send one boy and one girl into the Games each year. 24 young people, fighting to the death until one emerges victorious - bringing great pride, and great material reward, to his or her District. Joining me now on stage is the only Tribute from our fair District to have ever done, so Haymitch Abernathy." Haymitch rises drunkenly and gives the mayor an enthusiastic slap on the back. But when he tries to hug Effie, he ends up lurching across her and slamming into the empty chair.

And it all just went out live, across Panem. The youth of District 12 attempted unsuccessfully to stifle a nervous laugh, whilst Effie, tight-lipped and professional, fixed her skewed wig."I'm sure whoever's chosen today will -under Haymitch's steady guidance - represent our beloved district well." Undersee continued. Helena began to feel sick as the uneasy sensation in her stomach began to swell with nerves. "Now it's my privilege to introduce our tributes' escort. Joining us from the Capitol, Miss Ambrosia Daimont"

Ambrosia was a sharp, stern looking woman, but behind the jagged facade lay a motherly glint. She walked up to the podium with grace, elegance, and power, aided by her sleek metallic walking stick. Her presence was commanding. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" She spoke in a melodious Capitol accent. "As I look out towards you all, I see faces waiting in anxious anticipation, and so we shall get right into it. Effie, if you please, boys first."

Nobody breathes. Hardened coal mining families - terrified.

The bubbly trainee bounced over to the glass ball and carefully selected a name with her gloved hand. She walked over to Ambrosia and passed her the name. "The boy tribute representing District Twelve is....Cole Fallow." A path cleared in the eighteen year-old section, revealing a ginger boy, broad and hardened from his year working in the mine. Steadily, he walked to the stage, showing no emotion on his face. He took his place next to Effie.

"Now for the girls." Ambrosia stated, walking to the other ball. All you could hear was the metallic sounds of her walking stick and her heels clicking on the wooden stage. Her slender finger reached into the glass ball, and as her red stilleto nails reached the peice of paper, Helena's breath became stuck in her throat. The woman made her way back to the podium and began to read. "The Girl Tribute from District Twelve will be..." Time seemed to slow in that moment. "Helena Jade Baird."

Helena stood there frozen, praying for someone to volunteer. The sea of twelve-year-old parted revealing the young girl who was shaking, tears threatening to spill. The Square is deathly silen. No one can believe what they heard. The light of the district, the girl who always had a smile of her face, who was polite and generous at her own expense, thrust into the Games without a second thought. Grayson staggered. He knew there was a possibility, but he didn't want to admit it. Mr Everdeen helped to steady the gentleman as his own child hung to his leg, his daughter who would be in a similar predicament many years later.

The young girl slumped backwards, dumbstruck. How could this have happened? Everything was spinning as thoughts filled the girls head. Her train of thought was shattered as Ambrosia spoke again. "Come on up, sweetheart." Her voice was warmer this time. One foot in front of the other, Helena made her way to the stage. Her face filled the large screens, her eyes puffy and tears streaming down her face, for all of Panem to see. She sniffed as she reached the podium, looking out across the crowd, eyes pleading for someone to volunteer. Then, she thought, 'Why should I put someone else in my place to die? Why am I being so selfish?'. And so she hung her head and accepted her fate.

"Let's give a big round of applause for our tributes." Ambrosia stated, raising her arms to gesture to the two children. No one applauded. Instead, they do something else - a gesture. In unison, the people of District 12 touch the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then hold it out to her. It is a gesture of immense respect. Also, a fond farewell. Helena acknowledges it with tears in her eyes as the Panem anthem plays. Cole stood beside her, observing the young girl and district partner.