Ledsia Alieer

What is it like to be one of the unfortunates? Those who are chosen to fight to the death when the ones they love is on the other side of your weapon. Some never have to find out. They are those fortunate's who walk away from a reaping with a smile on their face. Some have small problems like, a beloved pet dyed, or their sister skinned her knee playing on the dirty cobblestone in the middle of their district. These are problems, I won't disagree with you there, but they are not anything compared to the loss of a child. You might as well die as well if the person you raised is ripped away from you. Limb by limb.

So I'll ask you once more. What is it like to be one of the unfortunates? The answer is quite simple really, because there is none. It is a feeling only they can tell you. But, they would have to come back to tell you that.

Cinna Welkins

I look around the cramped office for a pencil for nearly an hour. Come on! I think to myself. This is a design building for Christ sake! You'd think they'd have a damn pencil!

"Mr. Welkins?" a young woman's voice comes from behind me. I blush from under the table and scramble to my feet as soon as I catch my breath. I look at her once, and notice her curly blonde hair, and spring green eyes. Not exactly the norm, but neither am I. I look more closely and take note of her tan skin, and red cheeks, her eyelashes are big and full, and she's slender, but not small.

"Mr. Welkins?" she asks again. I shake my head, and remind myself over and over again not to stare.

"Y-yes?" I stammer. My tongue is in knots, and I can't keep my cheeks from burning.

"I noticed some of your designs by the printer," she says in a clear voice. "They're brilliant."

"Thank you. I worked hard on all of them," I tell her, desperately trying to keep my cool. She takes a gentle step towards me, and smiles a slightly crooked smile.

"I'd love it if you were to look over mine," she says, casting her eyes down.

"Sure. Of course. Yes!" I answer. Over doing it? Yup.

"Great!" she looks me right in the eye. "How about coffee tomorrow?"

I nod in agreement, and she gives me one last triumphant smile before turning on her heel, and walking back down the line of offices.

"Wait!" I call after her. She turns back to me, about halfway down the long hall. "What's your name?"

"Portia."

Aimon Lynch

I wake up to the thud of something coming from the front door. I hold the flask tightly, and stumble after the noise. I look down at her, and frown. My wife is standing there with her bags packed.

"Where are you going?" I ask her.

"Home!" she yells back. "Aimon, I knew this was never going to work out. I knew it. You never came out of those games and… and you never will!" Amy screams, picking up her bag in a huff.

"Wait!" I hold my arm out, and stop the door stops from slamming. "Why?"

"I never had your heart. You gave it all to her."

"I've told before! Dalayla is a distant memory! I can't go back to thinking about her again… I-I-I won't!" I yell back at her. I remember months after the games I had nightmares that Dalayla was still alive. That she was still with me. But, then, as if out of no where, blood drips from her chest, and she falls to the ground. Months turned into years, and then I meet Amy. For six whole months I felt slightly happy. Now she was leaving.

"Goodbye Aimon."

Felix Welkins

I look at Peeta from the counter. I watch carefully out the window as Peeta sighs as a young girl walks by, holding her sister's hand. I know her, but I've only spoken to her once. Her name is Katniss Everdeen, and my poor little friend is hopelessly in love with her.

"Why don't you just go talk to her?" I ask him encouragingly.

"No," he glares at me. "I don't want to."

"Didn't look that way to me. Looked like you really wanted to," I tell him, and give him a big, toothy smile to make sure he knew I was teasing him. "Just go, what could be the harm?"

Peeta looks from me, to the back door, to Katniss, then back to me again. "I guess…"

"I'll do all of the cakes today," I offer.

"All of them? But the mayor's brother is getting married! The cake will be huge!" he exclaims.

"No. I want you to have some time off," I smile at him. He gives me a wary look, and turns too walk outside. He makes it up to her, and she smiles while brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

"H-hey," I hear him say, and she's about to answer him when he comes running into the bakery to vomit in the waste bin.

~ Kind of a prolog. The tributes so far are on the previous chapter :)