Rosemarie Callahan

Aeava's lips form her words slowly, so I can read them better. "Storm," she seems to be saying, "We had better head to the reaping." The reaping. Just the thought of it makes me shudder.

My dress is already on. I can hardly believe I look this fancy. Who wants a gorgeous white vintage outfit if they only get to wear it once?

My fingers start tugging at the edge of my French braid like they always do when I get nervous. I wince as I end up yanking a strand of hair out, but later take the opportunity to examine it, procrastinating. I weave it around my hand. The fiery red catches the sun.

I feel a small tug towards the hip of my dress. Aeava must be ready to go. I grab her hand and tug her along the way to the square. The walking isn't far, but as we start reaching our destination, I begin to wish it is.

Of course, my wishes never come true, and we arrive in front of a stage. There are many groups of gossiping teens, but I belong with none of them. A girl my age walks up to me. She has black hair and blue eyes. She is as pale as Snow White. I recognize her. I hate her.

She gives me a sickly sweet smile. Two girls come to stand behind her. Apparently, once you start training for the Games, you get you own pack of goons that follow you around and back you up during a fight.

I let go of Aeva's hand and push her towards the 12-year-old end. I need to handle Beatriz on my own. "What do you want?" I ask her when Aeva is a safe distance away. I hope my voice isn't shaking.

"Well," she over-enunciates. Her posse's shoulders are moving up and down. They must be snickering. "I just wanted to let you know that the girls and I have decided that we won't mess up your big moment if you get reaped. We know how much you love the Games."

I scowl and stalk over to an empty corner in the 18-year-old section. I hate Beatriz and whoever the creeps who follow her around are. For some reason, they find it they're life goal to humiliate me. They call me psychic-girl. Usually I wouldn't be offended by that, but one can't help but be offended by anything that comes out of Beatriz's mouth.

The reaping is beginning. The first to stand is the mayor, who talks about what an honor it is to send our children into the Games. We hear this speech every year. He gives a brief history lesson about Panem, and then he announces all the victors. So far, there must have been at least fifteen. He introduces the escort, Sparkie Zenza. She literally looks like a disco ball. There are sparkles plastered all over her skin and hair.

She speaks about what a pleasure it is to be here; what escorts usually talk about, but she moves her lips so fast I can't read them. Then she says a bit slower, "Ladies first!" She trots over to what I assume is the female reaping ball. She pulls out a slip, and reads the name so fast I can't tell what she's saying again.

I start wishing. I wish for it to not be Aeva. All of a sudden, the group of eligible kids is pushing me up to the stage. Did she call my name, or are they just messing with me? I look to Aeva for reference. She's not looking at me. She's crying. I am really going into the Hunger Games.

One of my wishes finally came true.

Jamie Boslan

She's deaf, and she doesn't stand a chance. But who can stand a chance against me? This kid will just be one of the easier targets to take out. Then, I can actually have fun with these Games.

The escort asks for volunteers. I see some girls in the sixteen-year-old range snicker. No one volunteers for the deaf girl, which makes me that much more positive she'll die on the first day. The escort asks for applause, and the audience claps politely.

Then, she's walking toward the male glass ball. She grabs a slip. I prepare myself to volunteer. "The lucky District Two male tribute is… Jamie Bosland!" she yells in her squeaky voice.

I run up to the stage before anyone can shout, "I volunteer!" She asks for volunteers, and I give the eligible kids a death glare. No one steps up. I smile, happy with myself. Our escort is happy, too.

"Let us hear one bigger round of applause for our District Two tributes, Rosemarie Callahan and Jamie Bosland!" The audience claps again, but more enthusiastically this time. I pump my fist in the air as the Peacekeepers take us to the Justice Building.

My mother is the first one to visit me in custody. She says my father will be coming separately. It's weird- she's not sad or crying like I imagined she would be. It seems like she's grieving on the inside, but for me she's giving a stiff upper lip.

When the Peacekeepers come to tell her she needs to leave, she attaches her favorite coin to my leather necklace. "Wear it proudly," she says. She walks off. Next my dad comes in, and he pats me and the back and tells me to make sure I win, or there will be consequences. Isn't that the truth…

Okay, so this isn't like the Chapter 2 I had in my other story that FF put down. I changed a word or two. Therefore, it can't be taken down on the account of it being the same as my other interactive story. A big thanks to my only reviewer: stagewriter (Btw, I love the username!). Also, I'd like to thank MyrtleFalls, who has given me ideas for later chapters that I haven't posted yet. Another big thanks to Moonlit Kit who created Rosemarie and to Vccle10 who created Jamie. Until next update (which should be tomorrow)!