Hello my great people of the fictioning sort! This is my new fanfic about... you guessed it! House of Anubis! Well, technically it's a crossover. House of Anubis and the Hunger Games! Hooray! I'll make a District list below this.

District 1, jewelry: Amber

District 2, fighting and weaponry: Patricia

District 3, electronics: Mara

District 4, fishing: Mick

District 5, electrical power: KT

District 6, transportation: Joy

District 7, lumber: Jerome

District 8, textiles: Willow

District 9, grain: Nina

District 10, livestock: Eddie

District 11, agriculture: Alfie

District 12, coal mining: Fabian

xxx

Amber's POV

1:30 PM

I wake up to the sound of my little sister crying in her bed across from me.

I jump out of bed and run to her. "Louise. Louise!" I say and shake her.

She wakes up in a cold sweat and hugs me.

"I had a dream that you were picked." She whimpers. I hug her and pet her hair.

"You know I'm not going to be picked, Louise." I say. She nods and calms down.

"Come on. Let's get dressed." I say and help her up.

Mum then runs in. "Amber! Louise! Thank goodness you're alright. I thought you were hurt." She says.

"I'm fine now." Louise says.

"Are you ok, Amber?" Mum asks.

I nod. "Ok. I laid out something for the both of you. I'll cook breakfast." She says and walks out.

I look on my desk and see a baby pink dress with a collar. Louise has an identical dress but yellow.

We get dressed and I do our hair up in buns. "You look amazing." I say to her.

She smiles and I remember how time goes by. Now she's eight and I'm sixteen. I'm so glad that she isn't twelve yet. She doesn't have to put up with the scariness of the Reaping for four more years.

Mum walks in a few minutes later and gasps. "Oh, my darlings. You look beautiful." She says and hugs us both.

We pull apart after a few seconds and start the walk to Town Square.

Peacekeepers are walking in straight lines down the dirt road, faces cold as stone. I look at them all and wonder what it would be like to be a peacekeeper.

In Town Square, everyone is gathered in sections. "Go stand by Mum, ok?" I ask Louise. She nods and hugs me one last time. I hug her with all my might and let her run off.

A woman pricks my finger and signs me in. I walk to the section of sixteen year old girls.

Everyone looks terrified. I look at their faces and see nothing but sadness and scaredness.

Then I hear a tap of the microphone. Everyone looks toward the stage and I hear more teeth chattering, including my own.

"Welcome to the Reaping! Let us draw our names for the male and female tributes. Ladies first!" The peppy woman trills.

I shiver and the girl next to me takes my hand. I don't know her, but I don't pull my hand away.

The woman pulls out a slip of paper and I hear everyone take a deep breath in.

She opens it and reads, "Amber Millington."

All eyes turn toward me. I'm frozen. What do I do? This should be an honor.

"Where are you?" The woman asks.

I make my way through the crowd and up to the stage. "There we are! Our female tribute from District 1." The woman says.

My eyes flicker to Louise and Mum as the woman reads off the male name.

Mum's face is shocked and heartbroken. Louise looks terrified and also heartbroken.

That just makes me feel worse.

Patricia's POV

1:30 PM

I walk around the kitchen, bustling to get breakfast ready. That's my job in the family. Head. Since my father died (he was a peacekeeper) and my mother is out of town a lot on medicine jobs, I'm now head of the family.

My younger brother, Caleb, walks in from his bedroom. "Hey Caleb." I greet him. "Hi sissy." He says and hugs me. He's only six.

Then my younger sister, Alice, walks in. She's twelve.

"Hey Al." I say to her. "Hey Tricia." She replies and takes a seat. I'm trying to pretend it isn't Reaping day. For Caleb.

I smile and put the berries on their plates. "Thanks." They chorus glumly.

I sit down and eat my breakfast. Why is this happening? Why am I doing this? I have to face the problem.

"It's almost time for the Reaping. You can get your nice clothes on and meet me in here, ok?" I ask.

"Ok." They both say and head to their rooms.

I walk into my room and bathe. After I brush my hair, I get on a green dress and put my hair into a braided bun.

I walk out into the living area and see Alice in a blue skirt and white long-sleeved shirt, even though it's summer. Caleb is in a nice collared shirt and very stiff jeans.

"Are you ready?" I ask. "I'm scared." Caleb says. "What if you're picked?"

I sigh and pat his head. "Then I'll go. There's nothing I can do." I answer honestly.

We go to Town Square and sign in. Caleb stays with the babysitter.

I get with my group of girls and Alice goes to hers. I'm very nervous, but I stay strong. For Alice. For Caleb. For myself.

A woman walks onstage and does her intro about how to be picked is a 'great honor' and all that junk.

"As always, ladies first." She says and picks a slip of paper. My stomach is in my throat.

"Alice Williamson!" She calls.

"No." I whisper.

Not Alice. She's too fragile. Too young. No, not her.

"I volunteer as tribute." I say. A ton of other girls say it after me, but I said it first.

Peacekeepers march me up. As I'm escorted past Alice, I see her tear-streaked face.

"What is your name?" The woman asks.

"Patricia Williamson." I reply.

I study my hands as she picks the male tribute. To avoid Caleb. To avoid Alice.

As I'm staring at my palms, a tear slips down my cheek.

Mara's POV

1:30 PM

Today is the day of the Reaping. Gosh, I'm so terrified. It's not humanely correct. I studied it.

I get on my best clothes, a red dress with sequins. My older brother, Sam, is silent.

"Sam?" I croak. "Mmm." He replies.

"I love you." I say. He looks at me and smiles. "I love you too, sis." He replies and gets on his dress pants and collared shirt.

Dad walks in and smiles slightly. "My girl." He says and twirls me. That's the amazing thing about my father. He can make any situation seem like a regular day.

"Oh, and Sam. You look great." He says and high fives Sam.

I smile. "Shall we go?" I ask. I want to get this over with.

Dad nods and we go to Town Square.

I'm signed in and I make my way to the sixteen year old girls' section.

The woman comes onstage and talks about the honor of becoming a tribute. I nod along with everything she says, as I read it in a book.

She picks the slip of paper and my feel feet like bowling balls.

"Mara Jaffray!" She calls.

I can't. No. It's not logically correct! I was only put in once. Once out of about two thousand slips!

I walk up and look out at the crowd. Some look shocked, and some look relieved that the 'know-it-all' is going to most likely die.

I'll show them.

Mick's POV

1:30 PM

The smell of home invades my nostrils. Home is the sea. The sea is home.

Focus, Mick. You're at Town Square. This is the Reaping. You'll have plenty of time to smell home later.

The female tribute is picked. Not someone I'm friends with, but an acquaintance.

The woman pulls a slip of paper out of the men's ball. I shudder and imagine what would happen if it was me.

She'd call my name. I'd walk up, stiff as a board. I'd get on the train and win the Hunger Games. And then I'd be rich when I came home.

"Mick Campbell." She calls.

I gasp lightly and realize I need to go up there.

I walk up, stiff as a board.

I will win the Hunger Games.

KT's POV

1:30 PM

Crap. Don't be me. Those words repeat in my head as the woman reaches into the ball and picks a slip of paper.

Not me. Not me. Not me. Not me.

It's me.

She calls my name and looks out at the audience.

No. Not me. No way. Me?

"KT Rush?" She calls.

A peacekeeper comes to get me and I'm escorted up.

As the woman picks the male tribute, I cry silently.

Joy's POV

1:30 PM

I think of lambs. I think of calves. I think of farm animals. They help me relax, and this is one of those times where I seriously need to relax.

My finger is still bleeding from the finger prick. I lick off the blood and the metallic taste fills my mouth.

"Joy Mercer, please come up!" The woman grows impatient.

Huh? She called me? No. Just my imagination.

"Joy Mercer." A peacekeeper says. That sounded real. I walk up slowly, still convinced this is my imagination.

"Thank you." The woman says stiffly. That was real.

This is happening. Why? Why me? Did I do something?

Is this my fault?

Jerome's POV

1:30 PM

Wood stage. Wood watch. Wood. Wood. Everything is wood. Wood microphone. Wood bracelet. Wood.

At the Reaping, everything is wooden. Everything is wood. I'm so tired of seeing wood. I want to go someplace new and see velvet. Cotton. Wool.

"Now for the boys." The woman says. She picks a slip and reads, "Fargo Motta."

No. I need to go. No more wood. "I volunteer." I say, not thinking about where I am.

"Excellent." She says. I walk to the stage. The floor is wood. Wood. Everything wood.

Wait, why am I here? No. This isn't right. Can I take it back? No. Did I volunteer? She didn't call me. I'm not... no! That's not my job. I'm supposed to stay here.

Willow's POV

1:30 PM

"No, no, no, no." I whisper. I know what you're thinking. That I'm the bubbly girl, right? No. Inside I'm different. Very different.

I do hate fighting. That's one thing right. But everything else? No.

So that means I especially hate the Hunger Games.

"Willow Pennyfeather (sorry, I forgot her last name, but I just tried to come up with something delicate)." The woman calls.

"No." I say out loud. That's not me.

I don't know what makes me, but my feet shuffle themselves onstage.

"Thank you." She says and moves on.

Tears of rage slip down my cheeks.

Nina's POV

1:30 PM

I shiver a little as the bubbly man who will call us walks onstage. "Hello, welcome, welcome, welcome! This is the Reaping of the 74th annual Hunger Games!" The man says. As if we need any reminders of that.

I look across at the boy's section and see my twin, Leonard. He looks even worse than I must.

His head turns and our eyes meet. I smile as large as I can in this moment, which is only a closed-lipped smile. He doesn't even try to smile back.

"Ladies first!" The man says and reaches into the glass ball. He pulls out a slip and I whisper, "Please."

Apparently nobody's listening.

"Nina Martin!" He calls.

I look around, terrified.

"Nina." A peacekeeper says. I know him since he was my kindergarten teacher.

I walk up slowly.

"Great. Now for the boys!" The man says and reaches into the glass ball opposite the girls', the boys.

"Leonard Martin!" The man says.

I gasp. Leo looks tough, but inside he's as vulnerable as a marshmallow.

He walks up just as slow as me.

Since we always went everywhere together as kids, now I guess it isn't so different.

Eddie's POV

1:30 PM

"Come on," I whisper excitedly. The Reaping is today, the most important day of the year. I have to be in the Hunger Games. I have to bring pride to my district. It's me. Only me. I live to win the Hunger Games. I AM the Hunger Games.

"Now for the boys!" The woman says and crosses to the boy's glass ball.

"Edison Miller!" The woman says.

"Yes!" I exclaim audibly. Everyone looks at me as if I'm strange. Just like they do all the time.

I won't be strange once I win this thing.

Alfie's POV

1:30 PM

I smell the field. It's welcoming me. I want to be there, not here. In Town Square. Painfully so.

"The boys." Says the man. This year he's very stiff in his words. I guess the Capitol has finally figured out that being chosen isn't an honor.

"Alfred Lewis." The man says wistfully.

My eyes widen. I have to go up there. But I can't.

My legs move me slowly to the stage.

Now that I've been chosen, I'm going to win.

Fabian's POV

1:30 PM

It's the Reaping and I'm terrified. I can never hold in my emotions. My breath is coming fast and I know I'm hyperventilating.

The female tribute is called. I know her, unfortunately. She's a black-haired girl with green eyes, and she has a crush on me. No, I'm not lying. She really does. She's admitted it to my face. Multiple times.

"And the male!" The woman says and puts her groomed hand into the large glass ball.

"Fabian Rutter!" She calls, trilling the R at the beginning of 'Rutter.'

I close my eyes and look down. Tears are threatening to spill.

I have to do something. I want to run as fast as I can, into the forest. Into oblivion.

Instead I walk up slowly. The girl looks overjoyed at her companion.

"Right! The tributes for the 80th annual Hunger Games. Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor."

The odds aren't exactly in my favor.