Krystal Latrell POV

The knife strikes perfectly between the eyes. I smile. Another perfect kill.

Then I think to myself, Today's your last day here. Are you sure you want to spend it training? The answer, obviously, is no. I leave the academy and jog back to my house.

My mom already prepared breakfast, toast and pancakes.

"Today's the day!" I say to my mom over breakfast. "This year I'm volunteering for sure!"

"Are you sure, honey? I just… I don't want to lose you." My mom says this with doubt.

"I've been training since I could walk. Of course I'm going." I frown. "You are proud of me, right?"

She smiles. "What mom wouldn't be proud? Good luck darling"

After breakfast, I change into a golden dress. Literally, it's made with tiny gold fibers. I look beautiful in the mirror, and my mom says the exact same thing down stairs.

I meet my friends from the training center, Velvet, Ruby and George. They're not volunteering this year. They know I'm going to. I tell them thanks for giving me a chance. They're really great people. We exchange small talk, like who the male might be, or the arena, or fashion.

I head on down to the reaping. Some scrawny girl is reaped. I don't think she's even done talking when I say "I volunteer!"

The escort asks my name. I say, "Krystal Latrell."

"What a pretty name! Now onto our boy tribute."

I just hope he lasts as long as I do.

Derrick Drake Decivion POV

Before I go to the reaping, I decide to train one last time. I set up five dummies, then I choose my weapon, a silver axe. I decapitate the first one and slice up the stomach of the second one in a single, smooth motion. I snap the "neck" of the third one. I knock the fourth one with the side of my blade, then throw the axe at the final dummy. It splits the head, right between where the eyes would be on a person.

My brother, Jace, was watching this whole time. I didn't see him until now. He claps. "The odds are not in the other tribute's favor this time around."

I roll my eyes. "Tell me something I don't know" He pauses for a second, then says "OK. Dad wanted me to give you this"

He hands me a small, golden eagle with rubies for eyes and diamonds for claws. It has the family motto inscribed along the wings: "Vita brevis. Victoria est semper" I've heard the motto many times. It means "Life is short. Victory is forever" Jace tells me it's only given to those who volunteer for the games. He and dad both volunteered and won. They went to the academy, but Jace trained me personally instead. He cocks an eyebrow. "You are volunteering this year, right?"

"Of course I am. I'm 18. This is the last chance I get!"

"Just making sure. Now get dressed. Everyone is going to see you volunteer. You need to look your best!"

I go upstairs and change into some decent clothes, a tuxedo and diamond studded tie. I take one last look in the mirror. The girls will be lining up for me.

I go downstairs and meet my gorgeous little sister, Vivian.

I smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, gaze with wonder at the victor of the 29th hunger games, Derrick Drake Decivion!" She giggles. "Good luck out there, Derrick."

My name is Derrick, but my friends call me 3D because my first, middle and last name start with D. I go by either.

"Let's go. The reaping isn't waiting for us."

Twenty minutes later, the Girl is drawn. "Katie Black!" Some girl I think I saw at the training center volunteers. Now it's my turn. The reaped boy is some kid. I don't hear his name. But I yell out anyway, "I volunteer!"

Our escort, Petunia, says "Lovely! Now, What's your name?"

I tell her. She says "Ladies and gentlemen, your district 1 tributes, Krystal Latrell and Derrick Drake Decivion!"

The crowd cheers. All this attention for me.

I never want to leave.

Authors note: Thanks to TotalZayaGirl14 and CassussFett for these tributes! Also congrats to bookworm131998 for winning the sponsor question. The answer was Ireland.

Here is the new sponsor question: The first person to give me the name of the book this is quoted from gets 10 sponsor points. Ready? Here is the quote:

I am home.

Don't feel like writing.

The dead are the lucky ones.

This is a really hard one.