As I stood in the empty room, awaiting my friends and family, my brain began to panic, like being dragged by the foot under deep water, only a number of seconds until I drown.

The first one to visit me was Grace. She opened the door and ran inside and hugged me. She was crying hysterically. I hugged her back, not crying, trying my best to stay strong. I was looking for something– anything that would give me a sliver of hope, some source of positivity in the midst of this despair.

When I found it, I pulled her away, and looked her deep in her tear-stained eyes.

“Hey, I’m not dead yet.” I said calmly. A lot more calmly than I felt.

She smiled a little and sniffed back more tears.

“I’ve known you as long as I can remember. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She said.

I hugged her and rubbed her back comfortingly, as if washing the problems off.

“Stay strong. If not for yourself, do it for me.” I said.

“I promise,” she replied.

And that’s when the door opened and they took her away.

Now was my mom’s turn. She ran in also, crying uncontrolably.

“Not again! This can’t be happening to me again!” She said and hugged me with all the strength she had.

“I brought you a Tribute Token,” she said through her tears.

She backed away to pull something out of her pocket. It was a small bronze-colored item that looked like a pin.

I took a closer look and held it in my hand. It was a lilly flower with a circle of vines around it like a halo. It was beautiful, like seeing the sun for the first time.

“In her honor.” she said smiling for the first time since she came into the room.

I rubbed the smooth, cool surface, and thought of my sister. Her beautiful, flowing brown hair, and stunning, kind blue eyes; the pretty face I will never see again.

That’s when the first tear rolled down my cheek.

I loved my sister, and the Hunger Games took her away from me.

And I will do whatever it takes to do what she never could:

Win and, more importantly, survive.