hook, line, sinker.

two.

For the first time in her sixteen years of existence, Mags was grateful her mother was dead. Mags would never have to see her heart physically break, like the way she watched her fathers. He fell to his knees as she walked up to the stage, gasping for breath, and Mags held in the tears that were forming rapidly in her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to search for Ridge in the crowd, it would be too painful.

"I'm sorry, Mags." Mayor Gill murmured as she stood behind him, and she shook her head. She couldn't speak without crying, and she needed to be strong. For her Dad.

Mags suddenly thought back to that girl from last year, the victor. Her song had been sung for weeks until suddenly, out of the blue, Mags never heard it again. She wondered if she should take the microphone, sing for the crowd. It worked for Lucy, why not for Mags?

How did it go, again?

You can't take my past..
You can't take my history.

Mayor Gill was reaching into the second bowl, and Mags wished, more than anything, that Lucy Gray would tell her how to win.

You could take my Ma,
But her names a mystery.

Gill really liked to take his time. It was almost as though he enjoyed the sweating of the crowd. He liked the power he had, but he didn't deserve an ounce of it.

Nothin' you can take from me was ever worth keepin'.

"District Four's male tribute is Grove Booker." Gill announced, and Mags watched as her classmate made his way to the stage. Grove was emotionless, but he softened when they made eye contact.

If Mags remembered correctly, Grove was a sailor. She had seen him and his family bring back hundreds of fish at a time, hauling them over their shoulders as they went to the markets. He would have no problem in the hunger games, he could probably throw her off a cliff if he wanted. She was psyching herself out, but she had to think about anything other than her own fate.

Grove wouldn't actually be able to throw anyone off a cliff considering the games were in a one room stadium. Actually, considering last year's game had ended up in the tunnels below the arena, they might still be open for this year's game. What if she hid in the tunnels all game? Last year Gaul's mutations had killed a bunch of tributes, but what if Mags hid just like Lucy Gray had?

She couldn't believe she was thinking about this. The fishing trip this morning was nothing but a distance memory at this point, and two peacekeepers stepped forward beside her. She had only watched this before, and had no idea what the tributes went through between now and the games themselves. Mags was dragged backwards, and she did so silently, knowing resistance would be futile.

They threw her into an empty room, aside a small wooden chair, then slammed the door shut. She immediately tried to open it again but to no avail.

It was here, in a wooden box in the middle of her district, that Magaret Flanagan broke down. She sobbed loudly, tears blurring her vision as she blindly reached for the chair she knew was there. It took her a second, but she threw herself into the chair and held her face while she cried. A tribute. She was a fucking tribute. Just like the twenty other children that came from her district in the years before, Mags was going to be a number. A face that lasted in the game for a day before dying, probably to one of the lower districts. She would be forgotten, erased from history, and the thought terrified her.

The door flew open with a bang and Mags looked up to see her father. The door shut behind him, and she stood up, furiously wiping away the tears in her eyes.

"Where's Ridge? Oh, Pa." She crumbled into her father's arms, and she felt like a little girl again.

"I love you so much, my sweet Maggie. They wouldn't let Ridge in since he isn't a blood relative, but that's okay. He told me to tell you that he loves you." Her Pa held her tightly, and Mags found herself without air for the third time today.