I opened my eyes, somehow finding myself in an unfamiliar crowd. These faces, though I never knew them, seemed quite strange. I thought I never really knew them and that this is just some kind of dream. But as I stared deeper into their cold, anxious faces, I seem to know them. On my right, lies Kim Yerim. A younger version. Probably at the age of 8.

    That's it! This is a dream! But, where am I? I was surely in my district. That explains why Yeri is here. But the question is, what year is it today? 

    I tried to make a move and ask the now younger girl beside me. “Yeri… What year is it today?” I whispered, making sure no peacekeeper hears me. But I received no answer. The old Yeri would never let anyone go unnoticed. Especially if that someone was talking directly to her. That was her trait before she changed. I tried to shrug it off, but it was still clinging into my mind. 

    “Welcome, Welcome!” my head shot upwards, turning to see the Capitol lady on the stage. It wasn't Yabuki Nako. It was someone else. I don't know who. And I have little to none interest to know. 

    She smiled, her white teeth gave off a shining aura, “Welcome to the 25th Hunger Games!” 25th. The first Quarter Quell. I gasped in utter shock as I covered my lips with my right palm. It was my first sister's year. 

    “I'm sure all of you are aware that the whole population of District 7 has to vote for a tribute to represent the first Quarter Quell.” She says proudly, as if the games were just some kind of entertainment. But I was not taken by surprise. Capitol people and their mindset are really something else. “The first ever anniversary of the Hunger Games!” 

    “As usual, ladies first!” she exclaimed. My heart dropped as I knew whom she was going to announce. Fishing the single white paper inside the clear bowl, she smiled, opening the paper that was holding my sister's name. I was aware of that. 

    “Ah. What a fighter we have here,” she grinned, almost looking like a psycho in the form of a green highlighter. “The Female Tribute for District 7,” she started, “is Seungwan.” 

    I looked back, seeing my oldest sister audibly intake a breath—probably because of her expectations of being the elected tribute of District Seven came true. Based on Yuri's stories, Seungwan was a great hunter. She was more experienced than other tributes—due to the fact that she used to hunt for the whole family. She knew more information about survival and she was more practical and swift than the others. 

    Back then, my mother normally helps me hunt and identify different kinds of plants—pinpointing whatever was poisonous and what's not. Those were the times when my sister's off to school. But if my mom's either busy or sick, Seungwan helped me learn a lot more things about mostly survival—given the fact that I was too young to catch a mere hare back then. It was fun. Being with your sister in the woods, laughing and learning more about the world. It didn't take time for me to know how cruel the world is. How unfair life is. How inhuman the Capitol's system is. 

    I see her walking towards the stage. Towards her death. Towards the same path I walked to. I thought, will I have an ending like hers? Will I die just the way she did? Will my corpse never be recovered at all? It stings, really. The way she walked down the aisle, leaving us all alone—probably feeling provoked about the District Seven's people electing her. A wave of pang hit my chest as I saw my mother running towards the aisle. The same way Yuri did to mine. 

    This is it, I thought. I looked at my younger self, clinging into Yuri's arms, the latter holding my tiny frame as if her life depended on it. We were scared. She probably knew what was going to happen.

    On cue, my mother begged for Seungwan-eonni to come back. To choose some random girl again. Seungwan was too young to die like this. And my mom was right. I felt my stomach drop as I saw the peacekeeper levelled a gun at her. Her eyes widened, horrified. She let out a shriek, trying to take her words back. Trying to beg the cruel peacekeeper to let her live one day longer. But it was too late.