A death warrant.
Oliver "Ollie" Wright (16) – District 3 POV.
I stand in anticipation, waiting for the escort to take out a slip. The chubby, purple skinned woman has had her hand in that bowl for at least a minute now. It looks like she just wants to revel in the suspense.
I hope it isn't me. I'm absolutely terrified of death. The thought of not existing any more simply disturbs me more than anything else can. Of course, I'm sure everyone else is too. It's just that, I don't think I have much of a chance. I'm tall and wiry, without much muscle and I'm not athletic in the least. Oh, I'm not saying that I'm talentless.
In fact, I'm a genius.
I'm not tested but it's pretty obvious that I am. From a small age I've beat my peers in intellectual abilities by a long shot. My vocabulary has always been much more expansive and my quick thinking abilities have no rival.
So, I suppose I'm not completely hopeless. I'm pretty sure I can outwit anyone in the arena. Even the game makers themselves. I can also invent traps. After all, I have plenty of experience in that area.
Most of my days are spent inventing one thing or another. Not all of them work, but if I must say so myself, some of them are pure genius. The ones that don't blow up on my face always manage to make people stare, awe-struck, when displayed. If only they had the same effect on my father…
My dad is an inventor himself, but it seems like he has had no time for me since my mum left when I was 6. It hurt a lot. It still hurts a lot. I try my best to invent stuff so he'll pay more attention to me again. But it never works. He's always too busy for me.
I sigh. The escort had finally picked up a slip and now she's making a big fuss on opening the thing. I look around, searching for my dad, but as usual he is not present. He's probably in his lab, working on an invention. An invention that might be more important to him than me…
"Oliver Wright! "
I whip my head around in shock, hearing my name. That was the escort. She called out my name…
My eyes widen in realization. Am I…? Have I just been…reaped?!
Keith Kayden (17) – District 7 POV.
"Keith Kayden!"
I feel my mouth go dry as my name reverberates throughout the town hall. I stand there, shocked when the people around me step away.
I am reaped…
I am reaped!
Slowly I make my way towards the stage before the peace keepers have a chance to drag me there. My limbs shiver and beg for me to stop and fall to the ground. But I can't do that. I can't afford to do that. Everyone thinks the games start when the tributes are sent into the arena.
But they actually start with the reaping.
I try to look strong and make my face seem passive. I reach the stage and look around. I see my mother crying with all her might and my father stroking her hair while behind her wheel chair, tears glinting in his eyes.
My eyes start to sting as I try to imagine how my father must be feeling. He had already lost two children and will probably lose another one soon. When I was 13, District 7 went through an epidemic. While my father and I were left untouched by the disease, my mother and twin older brothers were not so lucky. Even the life of my one friend, Dawn, was claimed. My brothers had died while my mum was left incapacitated. Doomed to lead the rest of her life on a wheel chair.
I wonder how my father will manage if I'm gone. Somebody always needs to take care of my mum. You can never tell when her disease will strike again. Usually, during the day, while my dad works, I look after her. Then I take up his night shifts while he stays at home to care for my mum.
Refusing to cry I look up at my escort. His pretentious silver face was sporting a wide, cheerful grin. He holds up the mike to me.
"Now, who would you like to choose?"
Oh! Right. I have to choose my district partner. Not only does the capitol want me to fight to the death for their amusement but this year it also wants me to condemn another person to the same fate. How entertaining.
With a constricted throat, I glance at the girls' sections. Every face I skimmed over had the same expression on it. All those eyes said the same silent plea, "Not me…not me.".
I really don't want to have to do this. But I must. The possible consequences of not doing this are worse. Far worse.
With a deep breath, I lay my eyes on a tall, auburn haired girl with seemingly golden eyes. I know her. The whole district knows her. The grandchild of a previous victor. Lives a posh life in the Victors' Village. Can afford whatever she wants. Never had to work a day in her life. Never had to starve. Never had to suffer.
What was her name again? Oh yes. Hesitantly I bring the mike close to me.
"Cassiopeia Earnshaw."
Velvet Lapworth (15) – District 10 POV.
"Velvet Lapworth."
I stand there for moment, unable to understand what has just happened. Why is that boy calling out my name. Do I even know him? Why is he calling me?
Then, the full reality of the situation strikes me.
I am chosen. Somebody just chose me to take part in the Hunger Games.
I widen my eyes in disbelief. No! No! This cannot be happening to me! This shouldn't be happening to me! I am Velvet Lapworth, the daughter of a rich shop owner. The most envied girl in the District. I am supposed to live a very privileged, very long, happy life! I'm not some unlucky, worthless child like the others. They should be chosen. Not me!
"NO!"
With this cry, I started to run away, my vision clouded with tears. As I pass the 16 year olds' section, I can see some peacekeepers closing in on me. No! NO! They can't take me to the stage! They can't!
I struggle as strong arms take hold of me. I bite, scratch and do whatever I can. Nothing works. They're too strong…and they're leading me to the stage. To the Hunger Games.
As they roughly throw me onto the stage, I get an idea. My father can take care of everything. He can talk to them. He can make someone else be chosen instead.
" DAD! Dad, save me! Please dad!"
I scream and scream in desperation. But all I see my father do is stand there. Standing there as if he is helpless. He is NOT helpless.
"DAD!"
I scream louder and clearer. By this time, people have started to smirk at me. I even hear someone laughing. Feeling betrayed, I look over to my friends. Then, I truly feel stabbed in my heart.
They are giggling.
Shaking, I stand up and look up at my district partner. I give him the worst glare I can. This is ALL his fault! He did this to me! He looks at me with sympathy but his brown eyes also hold some disgust. How dare he have the audacity to be disgusted! HE chose ME. Not the other way around!
Then, I glare at the escort behind him. He is the one who picked this monster, who in turn picked me. The escort looks at me, his made up face showing discomfort. That's good. He should be scared! Wait till my father gets down to this!
I hope my father gets down to this…
My parents never really paid much attention to me. But they always gave me whatever I wanted. This time is no different, right?
Regal Keane (18) – District 1 POV.
I smile at my cousin, Clarity. She looks petrified and her olive green eyes glints with fear. She probably chose me because she thought I will look after her. Her brother, my friend Loyal, must also think the same. Well, too bad. I plan to win.
I smirk as I revel on that thought. I wanted to volunteer this year anyway, but I thought I had lost the chance when the Capitol's new Quarter Quell rules were released. But lucky me, my cousin was reaped and she decided to choose me. I can't be more thrilled.
I turn around and try to spot my family. There they are. Exuberant, I give them a wide grin. Don't worry, mum and dad. I'm going to make you proud. This is the victor you're looking at.
I see them smile back at me. My father gives me a thumbs up and I become , if possible, even more excited. My parents are finally noticing me! They always fawned over my sister, Glamour. They always found me worthless.
Unlike my sister I am naturally clumsy. I am always tripping over things or knocking them over. So my parents decided I was useless, and prepared Glamour for the Hunger Games since the age of 4. They didn't bother to start with me until I was 7. Glamour however, being the idiot that she was, ruined her chances of becoming a victor when she became pregnant at the age of 17. Glamour was kicked out, but even then, I never became my parent's favourite child.
Now, I finally have a chance to show them that I'm better than her.
With a happy smile, I wave at the cameras. It's never too early to get sponsors. But I'd probably get some anyway. With a large frame, 6'2" tall, I am easily more intimidating and competent than those other scrawny District kids.
I run a hand through my thick, messy blonde hair to show off my muscles and wink my blue eyes for extra effect. Yes, Panem, be jealous .
My escort, smiling like an idiot, tells my cousin and I to shake hands. We happily comply, though I saw that Clarity's smile was strained, then look back at the cameras again as the escort raises both of our hands.
"May I present to you, the tributes of District 1, Clarity Lancaster and Regal Keane!"
As we are lead into the Justice building, an uncontainable smile breaks through. I can't wait for my parents to tell me how I will soon become their new favourite child.
Hi!
So, I decided to set up a sponsor system. To spice things up, you CANNOT sponsor your own tributes :D.
This is how you earn points:-
Submit a tribute : 50 points.
Submit a bloodbath tribute (Also included if tribute dies in bloodbath) : 100 points.
Follow my story : 25 points.
Favourite my story : 25 points.
Review of less than 20 words : 5 points.
Review of 20-49 words : 10 points.
Review of 50-99 words : 25 points.
Review of 100+ words : 50 points.
You can only sponsor baskets containing a certain variety of items.
Basic basket - Contains an empty water bottle, a small bag of crisps, a small bag of beef jerky, a very small bottle of iodine and two small plasters - 150 points.
Intermediate basket - Contains a small water bottle (filled), a bag of dried fruits, 2 bags of crisps, a bottle of iodine, a backpack, a small knife, a small roll of bandage and a small bottle of disinfectant - 300 points.
Superior basket - Contains a large water bottle (filled), a weapon of choice (I'll inform you whether the weapon is acceptable), a loaf of bread, a large bag of dried fruits, 2 large bags of crisps, a bottle of iodine, a backpack, a roll of bandage, a roll of gauze and a bottle of disinfectant - 750 points.
Deluxe basket - Contains 2 medium water bottles (Equal to 1.5 of one large water bottle)(filled), a weapon of choice, a hot meal, a loaf of bread, a large bag of dried fruits, 2 bags of crisps, a small bag of beef jerky, a bottle of iodine, a large backpack, a first aid kit and a thermal blanket - 1200 points.
Ultimate basket - Contains 3 large water bottles ( 2 filled, one empty), two weapons of choice, a large hot meal, a loaf of bread, a large bag of dried fruits, 2 bags of crisps, a bag of beef jerky, a bottle of iodine, a first aid kit, a small tent, a thermal blanket, a large backpack and an object of choice (I'll inform you whether it is acceptable) - 1500 points.
When you want to sponsor, please ask through pm and not through review.
Thanks for reading!
