User blog:Angry birds12/Fanfiction: The 61st Hunger Games!

I can't do it. I can't save her.

That's all I think as I'm caught in a snare.

One of them is on her back pinning her down, holding up her head by her hair. The other is holding a trident, poisied to throw.

She screams my name as the trident sails through the air, straight towards her neck.

"Were gonna be late!" My little sister, Rachel yells.

"I know, I know!" I yell back as I run down the hall.

I run into the parlor of our house were Rachel's waiting.

It's her second reaping as she's 13 and she only has two slips in the reaping ball, my family is wealthy enough to not need the tesseae. After all my parents are in charge of the Nut. For me, this is my last reaping.

We race down the streets of District 2 to the town square. We make it in the nick of time because District 2's escort, Ronnie Bell is going over our list of victors. I hate all of them. How do they get pleasure out of killing? I now, I now. I don't sopund like a 'normal' tribute from District 2. I look like one though, I'm pretty tall and muscular, a little tan, I have brown eyes and black shaggy hair.

Ronnie grabs a slip from the girl's ball and reads the name.

"Trina Smith."

Oh, no.

Trina was my best friend, without a doubt. We've known each other since we were little and we always hung out together.

Trina is a lot like me. She hates death and the games. Sometimes we do volunteer work together for the poorer familys since we don't want anyone to be forced to take the tesseae.

The shock is registered on her face as she slowly walks up to the platform.

She has straight brown hair that falls just below her shoulders, she's pretty tan and has bright blue eyes that light up like the sky when she's happy.

She's not happy now. And surprisely when Ronnie asks for volunteers, nobody steps forward. The girls almost always volunteer.

Now Ronnie reaches into the boy's ball and pulls out a slip.

I now what I have to do.

"John Walters," Ronnie calls out

"I volunteer!" I scream just before the chorus of other boys yelling the same thing.

Ronnie points at me and the other would be volunteers groan.

When we shake hands, I see tears threating to spill in Trina's eyes. She knows.

Only one of us can come back.

This story is written by me, Brony12. I hope you like it! :)