I wake up with a pounding headache, as the sun barely creeps through the window. It couldn't have been past seven o'clock. It didn't really matter what the time was though. I wouldn't be able to sleep through this headache, even if I wanted to. It was the same every Reaping Day. Every year was the same. My sleep would become plagued with nightmares about the Arena and I'd either wake up screaming and not fall asleep for the rest of the night, or I'd end up feeling ill in the mornings. The latter didn't happen as often, but I did prefer it. I always ended up feeling as ill as I would if I'd just slept through the nightmares. At least then I wouldn't be lying for hours, unable to do anything.

After a few minutes, the throbbing in my head subsides a little, though I can still feel it. I decide to get out of bed now, and prepare myself for the Reaping. It won't start for another few hours – until two – but it's best to just take whatever time I was conscious to prepare myself if I am the one to be chosen as Tribute. My odds weren't too good, but they were a lot higher than a few of the other boys my age. After exchanging slips for tessarae, I had twenty eight slips. It wasn't anything compared to the boys that had over fifty, but I still didn't have a lot of luck here.

I walk over to my wardrobe, and take out a simple shirt, and trousers, closing the door over. It isn't what I'll be wearing to the Reaping, but there's a chance that I'll go out to practice for a while. I can't risk my Reaping clothes being soiled, because the Peacemakers definitely won't look it over if I come to the town centre covered in dirt and grass; maybe with a few fresh holes in my clothes. And with the little grass that grows around here, the Peacemakers will know that I managed to get out of the District.

After I place my night shirt neatly back into my wardrobe, I close the door over, listening carefully to see if my father's awake yet. Though, I can hear his faint snoring coming from the room next to mine. I can't blame him for sleeping, though. This is the only day, apart from Sundays, that he gets a day off from work. It's good to abuse the few extra hours in bed, considering how rare they really are. I typically use this time training with Tina and Mercedes, my only two friends here, but I can't guarantee I'll be able to meet up with both of them this year. Mercedes is the only one that needs to worry about training now that Tina had won the Games last year. Tina did promise that she would continue to help us, but I'm not sure if her parents will let her.

Before I leave, I walk into the kitchen for something to eat. Not that there's much there to eat, apart from a few loaves of bread and some grain. Since the grain will taste far too dry, I decide to take a few slices of the cinnamon bread Tina sent us a few days ago, before heading to the door. After slipping my boots on at the door, I consider either calling out to tell my father where I'm going, or write a note, before I decide against it. He'll know where I am. I do this every year. He'll probably ask more questions and be concerned if I choose to stay at home.

I look around the streets, and as predicted, they're empty, apart from a few children running around. They don't greet me as usual as I pass them, and I can only guess they're savouring this time in case one of them is selected. I don't really understand why though. I know their parents, and each of them only have one slip with their name. Their odds are so slim they don't even need to worry too much.

It takes me just under a quarter of an hour to reach Mercedes' parent's textile shop. I don't know if any of them will be awake, but as I get closer I see Mercedes sitting behind the counter, working on her Reaping dress. We do this every year – make something for our Reaping clothes – but we usually have them finished in time. I open the door and smile at her.

“You still aren't finished?” I ask, smiling softly as I close the door behind me.

Mercedes looks up from the dress, and smiles “Well, Kurt, not all of us just need to make clothes with a hundred other girls. I have to help run this shop, and make half of the clothes.” She laughs before shaking her head “I should be done before it starts though, don't worry.”

“That's good, we can't have you walking around in some half hearted thing, can we?” I tease lightly, before handing her the other slice of cinnamon bread I had.

“Shut it, Hummel” She warns jokingly, before smiling as she takes a bite from the bread “Thanks” she says after swallowing the bite down “This the stuff Tina sent?”

“Yeah, we still haven't finished it yet. We still have a few slices left.” I say, before sitting up on the counter. “Where is Tina, anyway?”

Mercedes puts her dress, and needle down giving an eye roll “Her parents came by yesterday to pick up her sister's Reaping dress and told us Tina will be sleeping in as 'she doesn't need to wake up and prepare any more'. You know, even though she helps us” She frowns and continues working on her dress.

“Do you think your parents will do that next year?” I ask, trailing my hands over the surface of the counter.

“Who knows?” Mercedes shrugs “I think they'll be relieved that I made it through all Reapings without having to go into the Arena. But if I'm chosen today, then that's not happening, and you're going to have to train alone.

“Don't talk like that, Mercedes..” I frown as I turn to face her. “You do fine in Training, you have a chance of winning if you hide, because eventually, the Careers will get bored and end up killing each other. It happens a lot.”

“That's easy for you to say, Mr 'His Mother Was A Past Victor'.” Mercedes puffs a little, and I scowl a little, looking away from her “You've been doing this since you could walk in a straight line without falling over. You're like one of the Careers when it comes to this”

“I'm not like the Careers, the past eight years, I've been training myself, as well as you and Tina! I'm not that good” I let out an exasperated sigh. I've had this conversation with Tina and Mercedes a lot. While I won't doubt that I'm not completely lacking in skill, I'm nowhere near as good as they both claim I am.

“I'm not even going to argue with you, Kurt because you're not even going to listen to me anyway,” Mercedes tuts quietly before staring to work on her dress again.

There was a slightly awkward silence, before it was broken by someone walking through the door.

“I managed to get away.”

“Tina!” I jump off the counter, before rushing over, wrapping my arms around her tightly, choosing to ignore the slightly choked noise coming from her.

“Let the girl breathe, Kurt” Mercedes laughs, walking over as she manages to prise me away from her, before hugging her just as tightly, though, admittedly not for as long.

“God, I'm surprised you two haven't killed yet with your hugs” Tina laughs a little breathlessy “They're like death traps.”

“Never mind that, how did you get away from your parents?” Mercedes asks, pulling Tina to the counter, gesturing for me to follow.

“Well, my parents woke up to get Ashley up, but they went straight back to sleep. I'm never going to be able to just sleep through it, so I sneaked out.”

“How will your parents react if they find out?” I ask tilting my head a little.

“They won't.” She says, shaking her head. “They asked Ashley to wake them up, so that they could wake me up, and I managed to convince her, to wait until I was back in bed before she woke them.”

“Are you sure that'll work?” Mercedes asks sceptically.

“Do you not know my parents, Mercedes?” Tina sighs “They will not wake up early today. They'll spend as much time physically possible in bed.”

“Oh yeah, they're like that on Sundays too” Mercedes nods, dropping her gaze back on the dress.

“Anyway, enough of that” Tina shakes her head, reaching into her bag, taking out a small box “I got us strawberries!”

“How did you get them?” I ask, looking at the box.

“My prep team sent them to me” Tina says, opening the box, and placing it in the middle of us. “They thought I could do with a treat considering what's happening today.”

“God, I've not had these since you came home!” Mercedes beams, leaning forward to take a handful off them.

“Mercedes, your dress!” I say with wide eyes, looking down at it.

Mercedes rolls her eyes at me “Strawberries aren't something I get a lot, okay? I'm going to focus more on that than a dress to make me look pretty for the Capitol.”

I had to admit it, Mercedes had a point. But still, I didn't want the dress she'd been working on for so long to be ruined if any strawberry juice fell on it. Giving a soft sigh, I click my fingers twice, holding my hand out.

“Here, I'll finish it for you. You and Tina enjoy the strawberries.” I say, smiling a little.

“Are you sure, Kurt?” Tina asks, after swallowing down a strawberry, placing the stalk of it back in the box.

“I'm sure. I'll have some if there's any left when I'm done.”

“God, you are brilliant, Kurt. Thank you” Mercedes practically beams at me, before handing me the unfinished dress.

“Don't worry about it.” I laugh a little, waving it off.

We spend the rest of our time in Mercedes' textile shop talking about anything but the upcoming Reaping. It always was like this. Neither of us actually wanted to talk about it at all in what could be the last hours we spent together. We did talk about training for a while, but we don't stay on that subject for too long, as it's too similar to what the Games are about, and the Games and the Reaping are why we plan to train anyway.

As soon as I finish working on Mercedes' dress, Tina's eyes widen as she notices the time., and she announces that she has to go back home to pretend to wake up, before thrusting me the box of leftover strawberries, before dashing out of the room. I was about to suggest going to the woods with just Mercedes, but I frown when seeing the clock. There's no way we're going to get enough training done, and get ready in time for the Reaping. I jump off the counter, waving goodbye to Mercedes, before heading back home, eating some of the strawberries along the way.

When I get back home, I frown when I don't see my father anywhere. He couldn't still be in bed, could he? I walk over, and place the box of strawberries on the kitchen table, slipping off my jacket and boots.

“Dad?” I call out, looking around the room in case I just missed him “You awake?”

“I'm getting ready, Kurt” I breathe a small sigh of relief, before starting to walk over to my room, as he walks out in his old suit, though I can't help but frown seeing that his lapels aren't straight. “What took you so long? You need to be ready in an hour.”

I sigh a little, smiling as I walk over to him, fixing the lapels “I was just at the textile shop. I just lost track of time.”

“Just be on time next year” He says, giving a soft smile, trying to push my hands away as I fix the lapels, though he doesn't really try too hard to resist.

I frown a little, walking away from him as I head into my bedroom, opening the door to my wardrobe. “That's if there will be a next year.” I mutter darkly, pulling out my clothes for the Reaping.

“Kurt, you're not going to be chosen.” My father says, probably for the hundredth time this week. “There's kids out there that have over a hundred slips in that damn bowl. You only have twenty eight, Kurt.”

“I still have a lot more compared to others.” I protest, starting to smooth out the creases of my clothes on the bed

“Kurt, you're not going to be chosen” My father says, seriously “Even if you do, someone is going to volunteer for you. I promise.”

I don't believe him. I know there's a chance that I might not be chosen, but there's only one person who will volunteer who can even compete in the Games that will, and Mercedes wouldn't be allowed. None of the guys in District Eight I know that well, and the ones that do know more than my face aren't anywhere close to being my friend, and wouldn't think twice about volunteering for me. It's not something that I like to think about anyway.

“Dad..” I say, exasperatedly “Can you just.. let me get ready?”

Fortunately, he doesn't try to push the conversation further, and leaves me to get dressed. I bought most of it from Mercedes' shop, but the ruffled shirt I made myself just last week. It doesn't really take me too long to actually put my clothes on, so I work on quiffing my hair, until I hear my dad rapping on my door, telling me that we have to leave. I quickly run my fingers through my hair, before standing up, feeling a hell of lot more nervous now that I had to leave. I sigh shakily at my reflection, before nodding, heading out of the room.

My father and I get to the town centre fifteen minutes before the Reaping was due to start. We don't stay together long, and he goes off to the side to watch with the others who are lucky enough not to compete any more, but yet still have the misfortune to potentially watch a loved one walk to their death. It's unusual to see the screens and cameras decked out across the town centre, but it's all part of the show.. Even though none of the Tributes die here, it's still a good source of drama for the Capitol watchers.

Within the hour, the town centre gets more and more full, and it's hard for me to see my father, or Tina and Mercedes. I push myself more to the side of the pen filled with the group of the other seventeen year old males, so it's easier for me to see. I find Mercedes a lot easier now, with the eighteen year old girls. I smile weakly as I wave, holding her gaze as she returns it before looking at the stage. It's all I can do or say right now. If I open my mouth to do more than breath, I'm sure that I'll end up spewing.

At two o'clock, the mayor comes out, giving the same speech and story about the history of Panem, and then reads out the Treaty of Treason. After all of this is read out, he reads out the past Victors of District Eight: Woof, Lily Hummel (my mother...I look at the ground, avoiding anyone's gaze as her name is read out), Cecilia, Christopher Morgan (apparently he turned into a complete pervert after the Games. Tina mentioned that he gave her a rough time when she was a Tribute) William Schuester, and Tina Cohen-Chang. Surprisingly, in this time, only one of them has died from the start, though I don't think Woof has very long to go. His hearing is getting worse, and he's becoming more senile. He might only have a few more years left.

They all walk into the stage, and it's clear that Tina only one last year. The others have a certain air about them, and they've all sat through this countless of times. Tina still looks as nervous as she did when she was still eligible to be a Tribute.

Once the past Victors take their place on the stage, our District's escort, Salena Papp, struts to the podium, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Her hair has changed colour from the last time I saw her, as it was now electric blue, compared to the sea foam green from last year – I suspect a wig. She clears her throat, and calls out in a loud, happy voice “Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!” She speaks for a while about how amazing it is to be here, but we all know she only likes District Eight because we're responsible for the atrocious clothes she was wearing. I really hope whoever designed that intended it to look dreadful.

“Ladies first!” She calls out, loudly and sharply. Salena shoves her talon like hands into the bowl, rummaging her hand around for a minute or so before pulling out a slip. I quickly turn to look at Mercedes nervously, who was looking at the ground, her eyes shut over tightly, and seemed to be praying. I continue to watch her until the girl's name is called out “Scarlett Grey!”

Well. I wasn't expecting that. I feel relieved that Mercedes is safe forever. She's noticeably happy, but once Scarlett walks out, her face drops. I turn around, and instantly feel horrible for the feeling of relief. Even though I didn't know the girl, it still hurt to see her walk up there. She wasn't going to make it home more than likely, and it stung that this could be the last time she's going to see our faces, and this is the last time we'll see her in person.

I don't have much time to think about Scarlett as Salena is trotting her obnoxious self over to the male bowl. I'm suddenly overcome with nerves, as they fill me completely, making me feel nervous. Why was she taking longer to walk to that bowl? Was she actually taking longer, or was it just the nerves slowing everything down. I shut my eyes over tightly, not daring to open them until the name is called out. I hear the slip being pulled out sharply, and my head starts reeling as my heart starts pounding so hard I can hear it ringing in my ears. I hold my breath as Salena unfolds the slips and clears her throat loudly, and I'm sure that I'm going to faint right there and then.

A quiet squeal of excitement comes from her lips, as she opens it, and I know that this isn't going to be good. Salena clears her throat and calls out the male Tribute's name loud and clear, and my knees buckle as it's called out.

“Kurt Hummel.”