Casper:

It is not like that I do not want to look back on my life and see it exactly how it was. I just prefer to look at it as my own, instead of one that my family created for me. With a few twist and turns I finally made something that I will never regret. Drawing, sketching, and fashion separate me from the other members of my family. I remember when I came home and told them of my talent. At first all of them laughed, finally I just slammed the door to my room shut. None of them understood me; the mark that I wanted to leave on the world.

When I first got my home, nobody came over to visit me, and there was no Thanksgiving or Christmas. Just me, my sketchbook, and my imagination that roamed through the halls day and night, some of them better than the others. Most of the time I channeled all of the emotions from being in the arena into my work. Dresses made out of dying leaves in the fall, until a water pattern on a tank top in the summer; which respectively shown my arena since it was forest and beach put together. During the victory tour I found myself drawing in my sketchbook of the other tributes according to the district that I was in the day before.

It is funny how time flies; today is the day of the reaping. This year I am going to be a mentor for the first time. Well my aunt Ameliorite is the one who is going to mentor the female; my father is going to be the mentor for the male. I just have to go to the Capitol, and pretend I am actually doing something.

"Oh crap," I scream as the last knot is pulled out of my hair, my aunt just sighs behind me and lays the brush to the side. Remind me again why I let the blind one do my hair? "Stop being a baby, Casper. The last time I checked us Hawthornes do not grow up to be wimps," she scowls at me, pointing a finger respectively at the mirror. I did not know how she knew the mirror was right there, but she was pointing into it.

"I apologize, but it happens that I do not respectively belong into this family," I whisper, "none of you care enough for my feelings."

"Stop saying that," she sighs, "we do care for you, we just wish that you would do something with your life."

"I am doing something with my life," I shout and get up from the chair I was sitting in and push my aunt to the side before heading into the hallway. She quickly follows behind and grabs my wrist. "You listen to me now, Casper," she scorns me, "I kept you alive in that arena, so did your father, so you should be a little more grateful to us. You actually think Cecelia and Woof actually cared about you?"

"They do care more about me than you two," I shout, adjusting the hair that fell into my face. She lets go of my wrist, turns around, and walks away in the other direction. Oh she is going to get my father now, so I must get out of here. I quickly rush outside into the Victor Village. I just stand there memorized by the flowers growing on the trees and the greenery changing back to its green state. What a pretty day for somebody to be reaped to live in hell, and hope to come back alive. Really I do hope they come back alive. I do not want to see any more death.

Eventually I am opening the door to my home and stepping in from behind. I gently close it and lock it before heading upstairs to look at my hair and dress. I walk up the dark wood stairs up into my bedroom. The first thing I go to is my full-length body mirror, to only found that I was in a blue dress with extremely puffy sleeves. I quickly take it off to make some adjustments. Throwing it on my tan quilt that laid on my bed and grabbing my scissors. I gently cut off the sleeves to that heinous dress. It became something that I would ware, actually something I would design.

When I put it back on, I find it to be a right fit for my personality, but I wanted to put a belt in the middle between my chest and abdomen. I find a black, more knit one and put it exactly there. Now I glance in the mirror one more time and smile. This was the look that I want, something not too old for someone my age. I quickly brush my long black hair before putting in a blue headband, throwing a dark blue cardigan, and heading back out the door.

I head downstairs to find myself about an hour early for the reaping. I take out my sketchbook, deciding to sketch a picture outside of my house. Then there is pounding on the door, not a gentle tap, but a pound that shook the items around the door. "Open this god-damn door up Casper, before I knock it off its hedges," my dad's rough voice shouted from behind the door. I drop my sketchbook on the floor and rush over and open the door. "What in the hell do you want!" I shout up at him, to find him standing there with an angered look on his face.

"You are coming here right now!" He pulls me out the door, almost dislocating my shoulder. I pull away from him, and this makes him even more angered than before. "I need my glasses," I whisper running back into the house and locking the door, quickly pushing a small chestier drawer that I have in front of the door that was next to the door. I pull my knees up to my chest, and slowly the tears fall out of my eyes like little dewdrops.

I cannot stand them, their pesky little issues with me, or their easy angered life styles. None of them do care about me; well Amelia and my father never care for me. Cecelia, she always treats me as one of her kids, even though I am not. Even old Woof can care for me, well before his mind goes somewhere else.

The Reaping…

I sit down next to the mayor, waiting for the escort to get ready. Damn, did they have to take that long to get ready? I swear the Capitol people are always like that, think we have all the time in the world. Really I wanted to sketch, but I knew doing it on the stage, in front of the District Eight citizens was not a good idea. "Know what, I am going to ask her what is taking that woman so god damn long," the mayor finally announces to us. Once he starts to get up, the escort finally arrives. Her face is unfamiliar; she must be new.

"I am sorry that I am late," she sang her in annoying Capitol accent. She had the Capitol look as well, a dark blue wig that went to her chest, contacts that made her eyes look like a cat, and three jewels that are implanted in her neck. The most hideous thing that I have ever seen in my life, but if I ever what to get my designs up in the Capitol, I better not criticize. "Yes, you are late, now I can begin," the mayor scows at her, getting up and walking over to the podium.

The speech was long and annoying, as always, at least this time I did not have to fear for my life. I just tone it out thinking about what I was going to wear in the Capitol, I have my leather sandals packed and these shoes but that is it. Room to design I guess. "And now, with further ado, may I introduce our new escort, Ellatrix Avery!" he shouts into the microphone, there is no claps. Everybody stays silent, to show our disapproval, just like every other District in Panem.

She just steps up to the glass balls that we draw out of, the podiums under them are marble and have dark green table runners, much to large to have on there, but placed to look beautifully. The woman steps on them to reach into the bowl, the girls where first. She selects a piece of paper, and takes it over to the microphone. "This year's female tribute is Velvet Smith!" she announces. I knew that girl from school; she always had been the one that everybody made fun of, now she is leaving for hell. I wanted to jump up and volunteer for her. However, that is not anything that I could do.

The girl leaves the group of sixteens and heads up to the stage, stands there silently with no words to describe the event currently unrolling. The escort does the same for the males, once she unfolds the piece of paper and announces the name I am almost screaming inside. It was twelve-year-old Marcus Daniels, a boy that I have taken care of over the years, despite only being three years older than him. I pull my hands tight into fists, they where not going to survive. I had to let them survive, but they would never let me be mentor.

"Let me introduce your tributes for this year, Velvet Smith and Marcus Daniels!" she shouts in the microphone. There was no response. I shake my head, lets just get this thing done and over with. She brings them into the justice building, then they walk back, then I notice Marcus sobbing under his breath. He glances over at me, I say to him, "Be strong, you will make it." He nods his head and walks into the Justice Building.

By now his family is crowding to get into the Justice Building, but Peacekeepers are keeping them from stepping any forward towards the stage. I will give them the time; I could talk to him on the train. Eventually they do go in, and I smile. I am going to help them as much as I could.

The Train Ride…

I sit there in my room; Cecelia was sitting next to me, trying to comfort what I am currently hiding inside. She knew that I needed help; it is her mother's instinct. "You okay?" she asks, "If you want me to I can stay."

"No I am fine," I whisper, "you may leave." She nods her head in respect and heads out of the room. I sit there, just weeping silently by myself. There was a knock on the door; it was Marcus wanting to come inside. "Come on in," I shout, trying to hide my emotion. He walks in and sits down next to me on the bed. "You know, I am going to take your advice, I am going to be strong," he starts off, moving his black hair over his forehead, "where are your glasses?"

"You should, I am your mentor now," he cuts me off short and starts speaking again, "no, you are not, your father is. If you where my mentor, I would not be talking to you right now." I just shut up and nod my head. He looks down, his blue eyes just staring right down at the blue carpet. "I wish I was home right now," Marcus admits, "my mum was crying. I hate seeing her cry, she was the one who gave me my token." He fidgets with his pocket, and then takes something out. It is a black chain, on the end a small little locket. "My mother was exactly the same way," I explain, "it is hard to see your parents cry."

"Come on Marcus I need to get you prepped for when we get into the Capitol," my father shouts from behind the door, "you can talk to Casper when we are in the Capitol." Then he pulled from me, heading out the door. Whatever my father could do to ruin my life, he does it. He really pushed me over the line right here; I get up and head in the other direction of my father, trying to find Woof or Cecelia.

The Last Night...

We all sit at a table in the District Eight level; I was sitting across from the male stylist, who keeps on trying to talk to me about my designs. I just give him one-word answers like fine, or okay. I had no reason to talk to this man, he is taking away Marcus, who I have known since elementary school. I feel like I need to protect him right now, but he is going to be so far away. "Okay, the interview repeats are coming on right now," Ellatrix shouts, "shut up right now."

I sit back and look up at the screen, and watch as the other tributes go through everything. Our tributes where not going to survive, judging by the scores, and the amount of people actually liking them in the Capitol. My sources tell me that we are gonners. I excuse myself from dinner once District Twelve starts their interviews; I needed some time for myself.

A/N;; Well, hello! Anyways, I am currently writing another story on here called Wildfire. Anyways, review and wants not. Cinna is coming actually next chapter, so no need to worry. XD Okay, well I am going to type up his view next.