GLACE DEBAY, DISTRICT 1

I woke up to the sunrise filtering itself through my curtains. I knew that it was Reaping day, but I felt oddly happy. It was early, but I went ahead and brushed out my long, platinum blonde hair and then I secured it in a bun. My dress that I put on was simple and white, and over it I had a light blue sweater and matching heels. My parents weren't awake yet; it was too early. Really, I didn't know why I felt happy on that day. The Hunger Games have always been a melancholy occasion for my family and me. My brother died 10 years ago in a hopeful second place, and my, um, friend Victoria died last year in the Games. The odds were not looking favorable for anyone associated with me.

I walked downstairs into the kitchen. I ate some nougat until I heard a knock on my door. Of course, it was my best and only friend Alcee, who my parents notoriously call "the early riser". "Hey!" She hugged me and I smiled. Okay, I'll just be honest. I like boys and girls, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that. My dad does, though, and when he found out I was dating Victoria he flipped out. I don't like Alcee that way. I like her and all, but she's incredibly gawky and I don't find her attractive.

"Ready for the Reaping?" I chomped on the nougat as I sat down on the couch beside her. "I guess so. I just hope both of us are safe." "Don't worry." I said as my mom came down the stairs in her bathrobe. "Morning Glace, Alcee." "Hi, mom." "Hi, Mrs. DeBay." My mom has been very over-protective of me since my brother died. She doesn't let me stay out past 10:00 or let me go to any new hangout spots. Neither does my dad, and not because he's over-protective, he just doesn't like the thought of me doing anything with girls. He accepts Alcee for the fact that she is a total klutz.

My dad walked down the stairs, and he looked furious. "Glace!" He stormed over to the couch. My already large, ice blue eyes widened. "What?" "How could you?" He held out a slip of paper. My love note from Victoria before she died.

"You were snooping in my room!" I stood up and grabbed the slip. Alcee scooted back. She knew I rarely got angry, and if I did it was for good reason. "Well, yes! If I knew I would've found this I would've snooped sooner!" My dad is a small guy. I am not big, but I trained myself in karate and even though I didn't think he would hurt me, I planned a counterattack. "Dad! This is who I am! Accept it, or… Or…" I ran out of words. Then, before I could do my counterattack, he snatched the carefully written, sentimental love note and ripped it up into tiny shards.

I gasped. "Dad!" I don't cry. I'm not a crier. But I felt like it then. Victoria poured her love out to me on that note. It was all I had left of her. My dad stood there with a smug look on his face. I knew what I was going to do. I was going to make him feel guilty. I wanted him to feel responsible. And I knew just how to do it.

As soon as we walked silently down to the square, our escort Ephraim, a tall, blue man, went over to the girls' bowl. I knew there were other girls wanting to volunteer; I just had to be first. "Our girl tribute is…" Ephraim opened the slip, which reminded me of Victoria's… "Ly-"

"I volunteer!" I didn't even recognize my own voice; it sounded strong and undeniably victorious. I walked onto the stage without controlling my feeble legs. My mom was crying, and my dad looked confused. I held my head high and waited for the remorse feeling that I knew I would get as soon as the brash one faded.

I didn't have to wait that long.

DRAKON MASTELIA, DISTRICT 1

I woke up to the all-familiar smell of roses. It sounds feminine, even though I am not, but I am an expert floriculturist. I am also a genius, but no one sees past my large and quite muscly exterior. As soon as I got out of bed, I checked on my blooms. They were doing well, of course, because I have an emerald thumb. That's what my parents call it, anyways. All that they have on their minds most of the time are fashion and luxuries.

I looked on the calendar besides my in-room greenhouse. Reaping Day was marked in red letters. Ah, Reaping day. It was that time of year again. I sighed as I looked through my ever-growing (due to my parents' fashion obsession) collection of clothes. I picked out a black suit with a tie to match my eyes. The Reapings here in District 1 are pretty swanky occasions. I do not understand or agree with any of it, but I am forced to participate.

My brother Ammolite was inevitably Reaped a few years back. I remember the day well as it was only a mere four years ago. I stopped in front of the mirror for a quick glance before I headed down to the square. Oh, yes, did I not mention my eyes? Well, my eyes are the color of a fresh, silky rose. Some argue that it is the color of molting blood, but I could care less about what those imbeciles think. I am a pretty caring person, but sometimes the oppression from my peers gets to me, even if I would like to say it hasn't.

I brushed through my neatly trimmed light brown hair before I walked downstairs. I thought that my parents were probably at the square already chatting with aristocrats about their new line of faux fur. I started walking; our penthouse is only a few blocks from the central business district of downtown District 1. It took me just a few minutes to reach the square, full and alive with colorful people decked in jewels and fur. It wasn't as eccentric as the Capitol, yes, but I do find it obnoxious even if my parents wholeheartedly comply.

The other 16-year-olds were conversing as well. Most of us see this as an average occasion, and it is hardly frightening to me. Death is not frightening to me. Nonetheless, the idea of sending children into the arena for reimbursement for the Rebellion is so very, very cruel. I found a group of half-friends (which is all I have for the fact that I am intimidating and somewhat morbid) from our training school and we began talking about who will most likely be chosen. I don't care, really, but it was something to talk about.

"Welcome!" Ephraim, the bald, blue skinned escort, piped. "Ladies' first!" He was standing over the bowl and I watched his sapphire fingers grab a slip. "Our girl tribute is…" He hesitated for one moment. "Ly-" "I volunteer!" The voice came from the 15-year-old section. The girl was a white-blonde haired beauty who I did not know. Of course, volunteers are not uncommon here. It was just peculiar to me why one would voluntarily participate. For pride, because if you think you are good enough to volunteer and win, don't you already have enough?

"Oh, a volunteer! How nice. Your name, dearest?" Ephraim held the microphone towards her. "Glace. Glace DeBay." She sounded weaker than she had when she volunteered. Still, she was shimmering and gorgeous, not unlike many of the girls here. Most of them who are in my grade either think of me as a teddy bear sort or they are scared of me. I do not understand it, but I do not feel sorry for me. One thing I despise is sympathy. I want no one to ever pity me.

By the time I was done talking to myself, Ephraim was holding the next slip in his hands. "And joining Glace will be…" He opened the slip in an agonizingly slow manner. "Drakon Mastelia."I heard shrieks from the audience which I assume came from my parents. I didn't move; my bones were frozen, but not out of fear. The noise of the stomping Peacekeepers got me moving. I joined Glace upon the stage, and I saw my mom cry. Yes, they spent a lot a time at work since their fashion empire was so successful, but they cared for me. Especially since Ammolite passed.

I guess they assumed that I was going to share his fate. However, I have a say in that.

Hello everyone! Hope you liked the first Reaping. I'm trying my best! I still have a few spots to fill; the most imperative being both for 3 and 5. Hopefully D2 will be up tomorrow. Thanks for all of your support!