Hello guys, this is my first hunger games fanfic.

I do not own anything from the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. Let this disclaimer represent my lack of ownership for characters and setting from the Hunger Games which you may find in other chapters in this fanfic.

Review to tell me what you think!


Sabrina Jackal was pronounced dead a few days ago. I think she died of starvation of something. Her family, or what's left of her family, were very sad, and were shedding more than enough tears for all of District 12 to see. That's because they did think I was dead. That was one of the reasons why, unlike every other twelve to eighteen year old girls, I was slouching lazily, my left foot taping softly as Effie snatched one unlucky name from the bowl.

Primrose Everdeen. The little girl cried as she stepped forward. Katniss, her sister, leaped towards the stage, and when the Peacekeepers pulled her back, she volunteered. A boy, who I recognized as Katniss's hunting partner reined the blonde girl back as Katniss took steadily walked up the steps.

Harsh wind rake past my face as I stand in the organized squares of children. Around me, the other fourteen year old boys let out short shaky breaths, their fingers crossed with hope that it is not their name plucked from the tiny rectangles of paper inside the big bowl. In the background, older family members hush the children, comforting them, promising them another year to live. Promising them safety. I thought of my ill brother, locked in a his closet today, his thin, fragile body shaking with pain as each cough battled the air out of his lungs. My toes curl up inside his brand new dress shoes, and I straighten my back.

Katniss Everdeen was already on the stage with Effie Trinket. Haymitch on the floor unconscious while the cameras of the Capitol rolled. Smiles of sympathy at the courageous sister spread across the faces of those who had long lost hope. The grey eyed girl showed no signs of tears escaping, in fact, there were no trace of emotions on her face at all. I tilted my head subconsciously, taking her bored expression into consideration. She was going to be competition. She was going to be an object that would be ruthlessly taken out if gotten into my way of victory. No, I was not a blood thirsty Career deep down, I was just desperate. Winning the 74th Hunger Games would not only mean the continuation of my life, but an end to my brother's sickness, a chance for my mother to rest for a day without worrying if we were able to eat dinner. Winning would save our lives, and Katniss Everdeen was just another tribute.

My black brown hair is tucked inside of my brother's polo shirt, the dried hay-like ends brushing just below my shoulders. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I turned my arms, my palms facing out as I stretched my stiff muscles. The boy next to me shot an frustrated glare at my lack of nervousness and interest. Or intelligence maybe.

Before the bobble headed hostess pinched the peice of paper out of the stack, I smiled to myself. Because, when your me? The odds would never in my favor.

"Sebastian Jackal," the oblivious, pink haired woman called out. Her shrill voice echoing across the silence, the quiet sighs of relief. As fists unfurled slowly and breaths of air was exhaled, heads whipped backwards, sympathetic smiles and sorry shrugs were sent my way. I made my way to the stage. I knew my mother and brother were at home sobbing into each others arms. I knew that my brother didn't ask for this, that if he could, he would've walked straight to his death, head held high, not one tear would escape from his eyes. I laugh humorlessly as I pass the familiar faces, he can't even stand without support from his sad excuse for a cane.

The camera's were all on me, lenses were rotated to zoom in on my bored face. My cocky smirk captured for the whole of Panem to see. My footsteps sounded across the vast maze of bodies. I walked up the steps and smiled at the beeping red buttons that flashed above screens. Gripping Katniss's hand, we shook. Her palms were sweaty and she sniffed, her sharp intake of breath went unnoticed. Her grey eyes met mine, our height the similar, enabling her hard stone like eyes to glare into mine. I smirked again while the speakers enlarged Effie's voice as she said:

"Good luck! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"


Please tell me it didn't sound like my OC had a crush on Katniss or anything. Hehe, review!

this chapter is shorter, cuz its more like an introduction. Tune in for chapter two~

-Tricksk8er