Jem Stunt

Wake up, check.

Look horrible, check.

Go into basement and train.

Mhaaa…I don't want to go down and train. I mean, I do that all the time, but now, I just don't feel like going through my daily routine, which was, by the way, made by myself to keep myself in shape.

In District 1, you have to be in shape if you're a guy. You have to be strong, good looking, and smart. To sum it up you have to be perfect. I'm good with perfection, but some days, I just don't want to do the drill; which is normal for teenagers.

My vision is still blurry, but I don't care. I grab something from the weapon rack and hurl it towards a dummy, or something that looks like a dummy. Then I grab something else, this one's larger and heavier, I guess it is an axe, and throw it towards the straw enemy. Finally, I grab a bow and arrow, pull the arrow, move it a bit around so it is aligned with the head, and shoot.

I trudge towards the dummies, rubbing my eyes, my vision clearing.

"Well, that's good," I say as I shrug at my dummies. I train myself to shoot for the head, neck, heart, and chest. Two out of the three went to the head, and one went to the neck.

Go into basement and train, check.

Make yourself look bearable.

The Stunt family is pretty famous and rich. Every room has a bathroom and study room, not talking about the finest furniture and equipment. I get into my shower cabin and just stand there.

"Start," I say and the water, from all direction, hits my body. First it is hot, but then my skin gets used to the disappearing pain, and now what it is left, is the warm sensation of cleanliness.

Sometimes I spend hours in the cabin, just enjoying a shower, but not now. My secound-to-last year of Reapings is today, and I have but three hours to get ready.

"Stop, and dry." This cabin is operating with voice, and not only it cleans the body, it dries it too.

Make yourself look bearable, check.

And now for your five kilometer jog.

Lovely, but that at least I enjoy.

I get my sweat pants on, my hoodie, gloves, all that warm and fuzzy clothing. I walk downstairs, through the kitchen, grab an apple and into the darkness.

The darkness, I feel so attached to the dark, and the night, and I cannot understand why. Possibly because no one can see you, people are more aware in the darkness, and most people are jumpy. Perfect for the enemy, make it a mugger or a murder, to strike in the cold night.

Great, and now I don't even keep my pace, I have a rhythm of how to run, but now I jog faster. Huh, even my body wants this day to end.

I notice a secound pair of feet hitting the hard ground; but it is still away in a considerable distance.

"Jem? Is that you?" The steps become faster, and now Karlo is next to me.

"Karlo, good morning. Didn't expect to find you here," I say as I tilt my head sideways.

"I started running a week ago."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, but I usually go in the later hours."

"How come you are early then?"

"Uhm…remember that phone call a week ago?"

Yes, how can I forget. He called and told me he loves me, not the brother way, but the lover way. That got me all screwed up. And now I was thinking how to confront the topic. If he really loves me, how should I tell him that I love him too, but not to that extent, but in a brotherly way. And then how will he react? Will we still be friends?

"It was a dare from Bella," He admitted it.

That is reasonable, our common friend, Bella, is the person with the most lust, ever. She enjoys kissing her boyfriend romantically for hours, and doing all kinds of pervert stuff, but not stepping over a specific line. She is not really a bitch or a whore, she's just…well, Bella.

"That explains some things."

"I hope it didn't cause any inconvenience."

"Haha, it's okay, I guess I shouldn't be surprised if Bella is our friend."

"Oh, I almost forgot, is she and Paublo still dating?" He asks.

"Yeah, they are. Yesterday they were chatting for four hours."

"How do you know this?"

"Well she and I were having a chat, and then she invited Paublo, and then only they were talking."

Five kilometer jog, check.

It was good having Karlo talking to me, made the jog seem shorter.

Anyway, he went home, and I went home. My endless list of things to do to keep myself in shape has not yet ended.

Take a normal shower.

Back to my friend, the shower cabin. Wash that skin! Feel the dirt dissipating! I wouldn't be surprised if some idiot army personal would say that. Oh wait, he did say that.

Take a normal shower, check.

Meditate.

I like mediation; it is a time of peace and serenity. I spend an hour or so for meditation, reflected on things in my past, planning for the future, discussing the undiscussable with myself.

Meditate, check.

Lovely, I have an hour left, my family is waking up.

Dia, my mom, I look up to her. You know how there are cliques everywhere? Well my mom is beautiful, and always was beautiful. No one would've expected her to stand up for people who aren't treated like celebrities in life, and protected. This is how my parents met.

Henz was a geek in all his life. He wasn't into sports, though he has a knack for soccer, and he was always this art and sci-fi person. He was regularly bullied, both from his parents and peers. His parents wanted to enter the Games, his peers wanted him to 'man up', but Dia wanted him to be himself.

Luckily, my mom doesn't want me to enter the game neither, so I'm good with the games. For now.

I dress into my formal clothing. Bowtie, white shirt, white pants, looking dandy as ever for the Games.

Daphine Ryte

I do not want to wake up. I do not want to go to the Reapings. I do not want to see what the Games bring. I do not want to see our escort, that spider crazy she-he, Rosse, on the stage and hear it use its screeching voice to damn us kids. Why didn't District 13 just use their nucleic bombs and bomb the shit out of the Capitol? Life would be much more normaler.

Then again, we'd have nuclear radiation, not fun.

"I'm leaving Farine!" Dad yells and slams the door.

God how I dislike my father. I mean, he is my father and all but he is an ignorant jerk. I try to like him, and be his little girl, but I just can't! Sometimes I wonder how my mother can stand him. Maybe he has a kind and caring side? I don't know. He was like this forever.

"Okay Day, wake up," I tell myself and roll out of my bad. I find my disgusting looks in a mirror. I look like a drunken hobo, well, that is what you get when party until midnight every day.

I growl and take a shower, noticing my short hair.

'Oh that's right, mom cut it.'

How I love her. She is an angel, except her hair. She has jet black hair and ice blue eyes. She is the kindest thing in the world; the exact opposite of my dad.

I remember when Polly, my younger brother, almost cut his finger off. The only thing dad could say was "Get over it," while my mom went crazy about her son almost cutting his finger. The funniest thing was that Polly was having the best time of his life. I'm not saying my dad should be as worrying as mom, but at least pretend he cares about us.

The warm water suddenly went cold.

"Polly goddamit!"

My bro's a genius…but he is also only ten; that is what I dislike. Little kids, they are so…just dumb! But that's me talking.

He can be a crybaby and a total idiot, compared when he is talking his smart talk. He got my dad's brown hair.

I dress in my usual clothing, a white t-shirt with some picture on it, on this there is an eagle, jeans and sneakers. My short wavy hair goes perfectly with my attire.

"Good morning hun," my mom greets as she puts her delicious pancakes on the table.

"Good morning mom," I hug her.

Polly comes out of the bathroom, walks besides me and I knock on his head.

"Gnome."

"Hey!"

"Shuut iit," I warn him and he shuts up and eats his breakfast.

"Daphine, what do you plan today, you know, reapings?"

Ugh. "Ugh. I go meet up with Kerry and Torres, go to the café or something and then to the reapings and then home."

I can just imagine Torres saying 'That is the good attitude love.' I think there is a little something-something between us, I don't know. I just might ask him, but he calls love without reason.

"Mom, I'm leaving," I call as I get my leather jacket.

"Okay, have fun."

That I shall mom; that I shall.

"So…" Torres broke the awkward silence between us. Kerry is still not here.

Torres is a typical Latino heartthrob. He has black spiky hair with large brown eyes, a mouth that curves into a smile, a fading goatee and something that he calls a mustache, but really, it's peach fuzz. He has a mania of showing his body off, which can be irritating at times, or quite welcomed. He has a wound on his … breast? That is the right terminology, from a training accident.

He is somewhat shy, but a little cocky and short tempered, but adorable times two.

"So…" I continue.

"Last year I have a chance to be a tribute," he says weirdly.

"Don't talk about that topic. Kerry and I have it bad enough, you might actually stand a chance."

"How come?"

"You know…you are a hot mess, with adorable attributes. You have various roles to play off and win the civilians' money."

"Are you calling me good looking?"

"There is no hiding it," I shrug.

"You're not that bad looking either."

And then that silence again. I hate this; usually I'm fine with silences, but not now. Not now when I want to be sure about a really touchy topic.

Kerry comes into view, running, her messenger bag bouncing in rhythm with her ponytails. I like her, she is funny. She is very timid and shy, but that is what makes her all that lovable. She is also kind of clumsy. She has creamy brown hair and brown eyes.

"Guuys! Guys I'm here!" She yells as she waves, not like we would forget about her. When she arrives, she huffs herself out, and sits down. "Sorry, my sister is really crazing over my appearance and all. Whew. So, what's cooking?" 'What's cooking' is her way of saying 'What's up.'

"Nothing, just waiting for you," Torres says, smiling.

"Oh jesus! I'm so sorry!"

"Meh, it's okay," I pat her head, just something I usually do to her. "Uhm, sire," I call for a waiter.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Uhm, fanta for me," I tell him.

"Same for me," Torres nods.

"Here too."

"Anything else?"

I think about it. "Oh,what the hell, three tiramisu please."

"So, three fanta and three tiramisu. Okay, got it." He writes our order down in her note card and leaves.

"Any ideas with reapings?" Kerry starts a new conversation.

"None," I say.

"Well now, I'd love to see some good fights, and I bet there will be something special this year, since it is the hundredth games this year."

"Oh yeah, that will be a bummer for the tributes," Kerry says.

"I bet it is something really evil. Like, … I don't know, but something evil indeed. Like, yeah, like fight naked!"

"Heh, I bet you'd enjoy that…" he was about to agree with me, "the guys."

Kerry started laughing her cute laugh and high fived me.

"Here you go," the waiter comes back with three bottles of orange amazingness, and three slices of tiramisu.

"Thank you."

"It'll be fifteen dollars." I gave him a twenty dollar bill.

"Keep the bill."

"Thank you," he gently nods and walks away.

We talked for two hours at least, and then Kerry had to leave…she left me with Torres… Oh jesus.

"So…" Torres began, again.

"So…"

"I hope you will not get reaped." The loudspeaker cracks on.

"All citizens of District 1 between the ages of twelve and eighteen need to be present at the square in ten minutes," Our escort screeches.

Torres stands up and extends his hand. "Come on, fair lady."

I stand up without his help. He starts to walk, but I stay.

"Do you feel love towards me?"

Very smooth Daphine, very smooth.

Daphine Ryte

The square is packed with children. I see some familiar faces. Some angry, some worried, some annoyed or just plain bored.

You've just two more years Day, just two more years and you are free of the games, hopefully.

I send Polly to the section where the ten years old are, and I make my way to the seventeens. I worry, I have a bad feeling, and I do not even want to think about that.

Torres, the boy whom I'm confused about waits for me, because I do not happen let Polly go the whole time. In fact, I was still by Polly's section.

"Day, Day, let me go please?" His voice comes to me, bringing reality black. I let him go.

"Sorry, take care," I tell him.

Even though I dislike him, I do not want Polly to get hurt.

"Come on Daphine, let's take our seats," Torres says as he smiles at me.

Just like nothing happened; like I haven't blurted out a vague question that also held maybe my feelings towards him.

We take our seats and Rosse, our Escort walks on the stage.

Rosse has his spiky, deep purple hair and pink eyes as always, with dark shoes and some really old fashioned purple pants, with a purple shirt and a purple jacket. His spider, something called, is in its hair.

The thing's voice is even unidentifiable as male or female, only that it is like a bat screeching sometimes.

"Good morning District 1! I could talk about the weather and the importance of today, but we both know you and I do not care about that. So anyways, since it is the fourth Quarter Quell, you know, there is a twist. The twist is," she looks at the yellow card labeled '100', "In the honour of the fourth Quarter Quell, the tributes friends, family, and other acquaintances also will be the part of the Games, as a prize," a dramatic silence, "The female tribute this year is Daphine Ryte!"

Yeah right.

No?

Oh fuck.

Fuck!

Think, think! There is Torres, Kerry, Polly, dad and mom…or more? I don't know! My brain is dead!

Anyway, I have to go up. My legs feel like jello, my heart feels dead, my head is spinning, but I will not give the impression of a pathetic little girl. No. Not this girl.

I walk up the stage, shake Rosse's hand, she or he congratulates me, and the only thing I can think of is Why isn't there anyone who volunteers for me?

Jem Stunt

Being a lone child, I walk to my section. I see Bella and Paublo somewhere in front of me, and Karlo in the eighteens' section.

Take your seat and feel nervous as always. Well, I do not feel nervous, just bad, and I do not feel sick, that's good.

Rosse announces the twist this year. Using our friends in the games. Damned will be the tributes.

"Daphine Ryte!" The girl tribute. As if she is emotionless. Her black hair not moving, still body, like she's a robot. She stands there and stares. Stares at the children, as if asking 'Why don't anyone volunteer for me?' which is strange, since this is a Career district, why doesn't anyone volunteer for her?

But, she is strong nonetheless.

"The male tribute is Karlo Suul!"

Damned tha…wait.

My dear friend goes up the stage, looking horrible, like he would faint anytime.

Getting your best friend reaped, giving you an unexpected blow to the guts. Check.

And then, he looks at me, right into my eyes. Dead into my eyes. That look from a pray into its hunter's eyes.

Those large dark blue eyes, clouding in. That makes my feel horrible, maybe even suicidal.

Karlo. He has two brothers and a sister. He has a lot of friends, but Bella and I are his besties. He has his diabetic mother and hard working father.

Jem. Single child. Weak father, mentally strong mother. Bella and Karlo, possibly Paublo. Trains every day.

The odds are stacked.

I stand up and walk up the stage, not using the stairs, but jumping on the stage.

"Jem?" He whispers.

"No time for regrets," I tell him, and then look at Rosse. "Guess who's your new male tribute?"

Daphine Ryte

I never really liked the Justice Building. It is big and ominous, gives me the creeps. Anyways, the thought that I'll be in the Games is much, much worse.

First my mom comes in, her eyes red of crying.

"Oh Day…why?" She says just these words and starts crying.

"Mom, mom I'll be alright. I'd worry about you and Polly, you two will be in the Games too."

"And Dad," he says.

I resist the temptation to say something about my dad.

"He can take care of himself."

"That, that is true," she admits.

The rest of her stay was filled with sobs and worries, and with some things I did when I was a kid.

After my mom, came my father.

The father that ignore Polly and I throughout our lives. He worked and bought things we liked and wanted, but then, he wasn't there for us, as a father. He was more like a sponsor for a tribute, than a father for his daughter.

Of course he says the obvious career father lines.

"I'm proud of you," he says, and it angers me. He is proud of me? Now? When I'm sent to my death? "Not because you were reaped. No, but achievements in life. Look at you; you've grown up to be a beautiful lady. All the boys would kill to be your lover; all the girls would kill to have your looks."

I listen to him. Silently, I listen to him, thinking about a lot of things.

"Then where were you? Where were you in my life? In your son's life? Where? Why were you just so ignorant? Polly almost cut his finger off, you didn't say anything!"

"Why? Did I have to? I told him not to play with the knife, and he played with it! Besides, nothing happened to him!"

"When mother was sick?"

"Who do you think bought the medicine? Who do you think looked over her at night?"

We've been going back and forth, yelling at each other, uncovering the truth, little by little, and the time of leaving draws near.

"Look, I'm terribly sorry for how I was behaving…there are things…things that you cannot understand."

"I'm seventeen goddamit! I'm a grownup almost, I understand most things! You just don't want me to know…Am I right?"

"Daphine," he says, and wants to hug me.

"I hate you. You were never by my side…physically." I hug him. Maybe even for the last time, but I still didn't forgive him.

The Peacekeepers come, and my father leaves.

Kerry and Torres come in.

She doesn't say anything for a time, just stares at the window, and the pictures of tributes on the wall.

"By tomorrow, my picture will be there," I say.

"I know," Torres says. "With Jem. So many strategies you could play; the sad lover, the lover in the Games, the evil witch, the pretty witch…heck you might even with the Games."

"Heh, for the lover, I need to have a boyfriend," suggestive sentence.

"Day, just come back…please," Kerry finally speaks and then leaves in a hurry.

Torres walks to me, and looks deeply into my eyes. "Yes."

Yes? Yes what? There are so many things that 'Yes' but I connect it with one simple question.

'Do you feel love towards me?'

He looks into my eyes, and kisses my nose.

"Yes, I do feel love towards you."

Oh the hell. I grab his shoulders and kiss him, a long one.

I live only once, and now I'm sent to the Games. There's a good chance I won't come back alive, so let's make my last minutes with my friend memorable.

Kissing Torres is memorable.

Jem Stunt

Going into the Hunger Games sure wasn't on my list of things to do, but since no one volunteered for Karlo, I did. Thinking logically, he would endanger more lives if he'd be in the Games, but me…well, my parents and my two friends. That's four. He has his parents, two brothers and a sister, and a lot of friends.

I don't know maybe they won't even get in the Games.

The large doors open, and my parents come in.

My mom, shielding her emotions comes in and hugs me for a long time.

"You're heart is what sets you apart from other people," she says. "Remember that."

"Oh Jem…I never thought this would happen, but I feared the moment when your name will be said on the stage…but, I knew that you are lucky enough for being chosen. You got your mother's heart. I had the feeling that you will volunteer for someone."

"Mom, dad, I've been putting money apart to buy something for your anniversary. Do not dare to spend it on anything else. Go on a vacation or something, because you deserve it."

"You are such an idiot," dad admits the obvious.

The rest of the time was spent in mourning silence, like I already died.

After my parents, Bella came, or ran at me.

"You motherfucker!" She says and starts crying. "Why did you volunteer?"

"Why, you want Karlo to be in the Games?" I ask her with a plain voice.

"No! But why didn't you wait for someone else to volunteer?"

"No one wanted to volunteer for him…that is why I did."

She starts pounding my chest.

"Besides, Karlo is much more danger than I am. He has a large family and a lot of friends. I only have you two and my parents."

"Shut up! Why can't you show at least a little emotion?"

"You want me to bawl my eyes out and breakdown?"

"Yes! Or at least stop the emotionlessness!" I pet her head.

"It's okay honey…it's just a week or so, and then I'll be back."

"You better be or else I swear I'll…I'll…Goddamit I detest your very existence!"

That is typical of Bella. Only cares about her friends, and when she has strong emotions inside, she cannot think complex things, as shown she forgot about Karlo being reaped, and the twist in the Games.

"Go on beloved one," I tell her when the Peacekeeper's knock on the door.

"Kill someone at least…please?"

You cannot not like her…

"I will, I will. One last thing, I never thought you'd dare Karlo to do that."

"That?" She looks at me.

"Calling me and telling me that he loves me."

As if I wouldn't have been repead, she starts smiling from ear to ear.

"Yees," she starts to jump up and down, squealing.

"Bella, why did you dared him?"

"Mmmhmm…you'll see," she says smiling and leaves.

That is exactly what I was talking about, short memory!

My last visitor, not surprising me, is Karlo.

He walks in like he has done a capital crime.

Why was Bella so happy? Was that…no…but then, Karlo doesn't lie. Does he?

"Thank you," that's the only thing he says, not looking up, and he puts a little rectangular something into my shirt pocket.

"You're welcome, I guess…" Why does it feel like I'm on a funeral?

"I know why you volunteered for me," he says, and makes me wonder what he thinks. "I'd danger more people than you…then again, you are too kind to let your friends get hurt."

"Karlo," I began. "What did Bella say to you?"

He starts to stare down again. "Well…she dared me to tell you I love you."

"She said other than that."

He blushes. "I told her about my feelings. She dared me to tell you. She was surprised about them, and she said 'Ha, I dare you to tell him' and I thought she was serious. Turned out she was joking. I got anxious and bended the truth…"

"So you do love me. Oh man…I don't know what to do! It's like…I don't know…many girls to be my girlfriends…but I didn't feel that special thing. Here comes my best friend, saying that he loves me…and…gosh. I mean, if it is love, then show or prove, my mom used to say, but," Karlo has a tendency to do what he hears, no matter if it is an order or just a matter of talking.

He kissed me.

I don't know how long it was, maybe it was just short or maybe it was long. I don't know!

I never really kissed anyone, nor has anyone kissed me. I wanted my first kiss to be special, but…well…I guess this is special. I'm off to the Games, and my best guy friend kisses me.

Next thing I notice is that Karlo starts to ramble on and on about how he did the worst possible thing in life, how I now hate him, and how he should just die.

I don't know if this is right to say, but I think he kisses good. I mean, this is my first kiss, I think he kisses good.

"Karlo, Karlo," I grab his shoulder and turn him around. I never saw him crying; guess it is never too late. Karlo is the last person I can imagine crying, and now, he is. "Karlo, I do not hate you. I don't detest you, want you to die or anything." He starts to calm down, and he was now only having trouble breathing.

"But I kissed you!"

"So?"

"A guy kissed you!"

"And the problem is? Look, how I look at it, is that love is not only guy girl. If a girl likes a girl, or a guy likes a guy, so what? That is life, their life. No one should judge them, or be mean to them just for who they are. Not like I wasn't very surprised by your kiss…but I do not hate you. I just do not know what to say."

"You are talking endless."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, yes I do. Come on, gimme a hug," I say as I pull him into a bear hug. He starts to sob again. "Calm down Karlo, don't start crying." I never noticed how muscular he actually is. I never saw him in the gym, or showing his biceps to girls, but I swear, a week ago I thought he'd die in the Games in a secound. Now I firmly believed that he'd have a better chance of surviving than me. "Karlo?"

"Hm?"

"I tell you about my feelings when I come back, okay?" He nods, and he is not even crying. "For now, I love you like a brother I never head."