Always' A/N: Welcome to the best district of all! No offense to the other districts.

We are excited to give to you…the reapings of District 3!

Erin Flight, 16 ~ District 3 Female

AlwaysHasAPlan

I woke with sweat all over my thin frame. I was an only child, and so I would never have the comfort of siblings on reaping day. I mean, sure, I had Siennia, but it wasn't really the same. Siennia and I would hug each other, comfort each other, because it was our worst nightmare to be reaped to participate in the Hunger Games.

It was six in the morning, so I had half an hour to get ready before going to meet Siennia. I looked in the mirror at myself. I was willowy, with straight, pure black hair that went to mid-back, and stunning emerald eyes. I picked my best dress, a purple one with a blue satin sash. I hurriedly brushed my hair before looking at my room one last time, just in case.

I walked down the stairs to my kitchen, where I assumed my mother was waiting. I was right. She was.

'Mom,' I said, 'the reapings are this morning.'

'That's nice, darling,' said my mother, entranced by the computer in front of her.

See, I guess I should explain. The easiest way to do that would be to say that basically my family was part of the 'merchant' class of District 3. Only, we didn't sell anything. We programmed, or coded, the computers and machines that District 3 produced. Normally, you had to be thirty to start programming, but I started at fifteen for some reason. But hey, I wasn't complaining. Just meant more money for my family.

Finally, my mother looked up and realized what I said.

'Oh, Erin, darling, I'm so sorry. Good luck, sweetie.' She reached over and gave me a big hug, and it felt like she was pouring all her love for me into it. 'Now, sweetie, for breakfast I have your favourite: acorn pancakes with a little bit of honey! Your father will be down in a bit.'

I sighed. My father was never there in the mornings, except on reaping day. All of a sudden, arms wrapped around me and lifted me up.

'Dad,' I shouted, 'put me down!'

He didn't listen.

'Now, now, NOW!'

He finally put me down.

'Yay, now I can finally eat my acorn pancakes!' I did the happy dance.

Dad chuckled and Mom just sighed, used to my antics. We sat down and feasted on delicious acorn pancakes until our bellies were about to burst. I gave them a hug and kiss each, and said:

'See you, Mom. See you, Dad.'

'See you after the reaping, Princess,' Dad said.

'Yes, see you after the reaping, Erin,' said my mother, already entranced in her coding again.

'See you after the reaping,' I repeated.

Wherever that may be, I thought grimly.

My dad looked up and smiled at me, and my mother looked up distractedly and blew me a kiss.

I put my coat on and then remembered it was reaping day, so I took off my coat, and then walked out the door.

I walked slowly, taking in the sights of my district. I spotted Siennia's house, and the arrogant classmate of mine who skipped a year, but I can't recall his name. Well, at least I think he's arrogant. Anyway, I saw his house too.

Finally, I arrived at the town square, however much I did not want to be there.

I looked around, but couldn't find her.

'Erin, over here,' shouted Siennia.

I took a look at my adorable best friend. She was wearing a red dress with purple stripes that really accented her blond hair and blue eyes.

'Siennia, I want to go to our place one more time, instead of going to your house,' I ask. 'Can we?'

'Oh, Erin,' Siennia cried, 'I thought you would never ask!'

So we walked to the music factory, and, while listening to the music that enveloped the entire area, sought out the little abandoned hut that no one ever used. Well, except for us, Siennia and me.

I took a look around the inside of the hut that had been my safe haven since I was twelve and eligible for the reaping. My one saving grace was that I had never had to take tesserae, so I only had four slips in.

The walls of the hut were brown, and there was a worn coffee table across from the door. A carpet that was originally white, now brownish-greyish from dirt and dust. I sank into the plush brown carpet, Siennia sitting with me.

I cried into Siennia's shoulder, and said, 'What did we do? Why is it us that need to die, and not them? I'm so scared, Nia, I'm so scared.'

'Shhh, Eri', shhh, calm down. We're sixteen, we don't have any tesserae. We will be fine, I promise,' Siennia reassured me.

She said a lot of similar things, but honestly, I didn't hear most of them in my worry, as foolish as I knew it was. I would never ever be picked.

We sat like that until nine, then we had to check in at the town square. I always had been more afraid of the Hunger Games than Siennia. It was a fact.

Siennia and I walked in silence, passing my house (which my puffy eyes just puffed up even more at), her house, and by the time we passed that classmate's house who I thought was arrogant, I was nearly calmed down.

When the town square came into sight, I squared my shoulders and held Siennia's hand until we were nearly there.

'Give me your hand, miss,' said a burly Peacekeeper.

I held out my hand and felt him prick it like always. He waved me and Siennia through, and we went to the sixteen-year-old section.

We waited, holding each others' hand and hoping against hope that we would be safe.

'Hello, District Three!' said our escort, Candy Apple. 'Are we excited or what?'

Everyone gave a fake cheer.

'Good, because now your mayor is going to show you the video of why the Hunger Games began.'

The video talked about the Dark Days, and how the Capitol was merciful, only asking for two teenagers every year from each district in payment. How our past victors returned to us had been a gift, blah, blah, blah, who cares?

When the video finally finished, Candy crossed to the girls' bowl and said:

'And this year's lucky female tribute is-' Everyone held their breath nervously. 'Erin Flight!'

I only realized what she said when Siennia started crying, and sobbed, 'Erin, she said your name.'

I gasped and headed up onto the stage, shock seeping inside my very bones.

'Do we have any volunteers?' asked Candy. No one replied.

Candy crossed to the boys' bowl and said, 'Ravi…'

I stopped listening.

'I volunteer,' said a voice.

Great, I thought. Now he's twice as likely to kill me.

A boy with curly blond hair, who I recognized from class, headed to the stage. Hey, he was that boy who I thought was arrogant.

'Name?' said Candy.

'Agustis Hurlen,' he replied.

'District Three, I present to you your tributes - Erin Flight and Agustis Hurlen!' Candy gestured for us to shake hands. I did so numbly. 'Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!'

Another Peacekeeper led me inside the Justice Building, to a plush room.

The room was the most comfortable I have ever seen in my life. The carpet was deep red, and there were several cream couches spread around. There was a beautiful window that overlooked the town square.

After waiting a while, my mom and dad rushed into the room.

'Oh, Erin,' sobbed my mother. 'I love you so, so much.'

'I love you, too,' I said. 'I'm scared, Mommy, Daddy. I don't want to go to the Hunger Games.'

'Shh, Erin. Calm down, my princess,' reassured my father, while crying himself. 'You will come back to us, and we will love you just as much.'

My parents told me how much they loved me, over and over, and held me for what I knew would be the last time.

A Peacekeeper entered, and said, 'Leave now.'

My mother pleaded for more time, whilst my father dragged her out the door.

It was a little while longer before my next visitor entered. As soon as that blonde missile hit me, I knew it was Siennia.

'Eri,' Siennia cried, 'come back to me. Please, God, Eri, come back to me.'

I started crying. 'I love you, Nia, you are the twin sister I never had. In case I don't come back, never forget me, please,' I sobbed desperately. 'Please, Nia, please.'

Siennia pushed a bracelet into my hand. 'It was supposed to be your birthday present. Keep it for me, use it as your token.' She sobbed brokenly.

I examined the bracelet. It was purple and blue, with little fake diamonds woven in.

'I love it, Nia. But if I don't come back, don't beat yourself up over it,' I said.

For the rest of those precious five minutes, we hugged and took comfort in being with each other.

A Peacekeeper entered. Siennia refused to leave, and clung to me even tighter.

'Eri, I love you,' she sobbed frantically, as the Peacekeeper pried her off me.

'Nia, I love' - the door slammed shut - 'you, too,' I finished.

I curled up and cried for the rest of the visiting hour, until my face was red and puffy.

'Erin, darling, it's time to go,' chirped Candy brightly. As soon as she saw my face, she said, 'Don't worry - even if you do die, your sacrifice will not be in vain. The Capitol will at least get some entertainment.'

She passed out the door without a second glance.

Just before I followed her, I muttered, 'Air-headed twit.'

I walked, surrounded by Peacekeepers, to the train station. I looked greedily at everything and everyone I could. Trying to absorb my home district. The Peacekeepers loaded me onto the train, and I numbly stared out the window, looking towards my home district for as long as I could, till it passed out of view. I was sure I had seen it for the last time.

I walked to the room that had 'Erin Flight' carved on a gold plate fashioned to the door. I opened the door, and gasped.

The room was twice as big as mine, at least, and that's saying something, because my family isn't exactly poor. Then again, we never get everything we want. But, the important thing is, we never go hungry.

There was a huge king-size bed with light violet sheets and the fluffiest pillows I have ever seen. The floor was plush cream carpet, and did it feel good against my bare feet. A walk-in closet was behind one door.

And behind the other, a huge bathroom with a shower with weird buttons, a bathtub (yes, a real bathtub), and a sink. The best thing of all? I could have as much hot water as I wanted!

I got a nice, long hot shower for the first time in, well, forever, and put on a plush bathrobe. I then went over to the bed that looked oh-so-inviting, lay down, and tried to go to sleep.

Nothing worked, so - eventually - I just cried myself to sleep, and thought, Who cares about dinner?

'Oh, God, Siennia, I am going to miss you so much.'

A/N: I'd like to thank Dances With Vampires for helping me with this reaping, and John 'Doc' Holiday, wjjmwmsn5, hiilikepie1937462, everyone who read and reviewed it before it was published. So, without further ado…

Agustis Hurlen, 15 ~ District 3 Male

geekysmartnerd

The rosy fingers of dawn force their way through the smog-filled air, as I stop my ascension to watch through a dust-coated window. The colorful sky contrasts greatly against the many shades of grey District 3 consists of.

"Hey, what's the hold-up? This is taking too long." The complaint comes from below me. It's Mercury Wattson, or 'Merc', for short. He's one of my best friends. His easygoing nature makes it hard for him to complain, but since I took away his oh-so-precious beauty sleep, he's complaining.

"Gus, I am going to hack off those golden curls of yours if you don't move your butt right now!" That is Ravik Nambikrishnan; we just call him Ravi, and he's my other best friend. His threats don't carry much weight normally, but since he actually did cut off my hair once, I'm not going to idle.

I smirk (not like anyone's going to see it), and sigh as I ascend the narrow flight of stairs. "My hair's blonde, not golden. The people in the Capitol have golden hair if they dye it; I have blonde hair because it's natural." Yup, it is natural: I got it from my mom, she's a natural blond too. Mom and I stick out like a sore-thumb in District 3, where people are dark-haired. I have blue eyes and freckles to go along with it. Oh, and not to mention I'm short, all courtesy of Mom and her wonderful genes.

Finally, we climb through a cramped doorway. The rooftop of an abandoned factory isn't exactly the ideal place for hanging out; after all, it's decades-old, dusty, and at risk of spontaneous destruction, also known as caving in. But it's too high up for prying eyes, especially those of Peacekeepers, and no one comes here. Except, of course, Ravi, Merc, and I.

We take a seat at our customary spot: the edge of the roof. We sit in silence as we either stare at the colorful sky (me), look down at the District Square (Ravi), or fiddle with a Rubik's Cube (Merc).

"So tell us why you really dragged us here," Merc says, not once looking up from his Cube.

"Yeah, and why'd you have to wake us up at the crack of dawn too?" Ravi demands.

When I don't answer right away, Ravi fixes me with an intense stare. The thick, black-rimmed glasses he's forced to wear don't help. Finally, I cave in. . .not literally.

"Well, I just want to hang out with you guys before the Reaping starts."

"Yeah, right." Ravi immediately shoots down my answer. Merc bobs his head up and down in agreement.

Apparently, they know me too well. I sigh, and stare at the sun's steady climb over the horizon. It does make sense; if I really wanted to hang out with them before the Reaping, it wouldn't be so early. I guess that's the downside of having extremely intelligent friends.

"You're worried about the Reaping, aren't you?" Merc guesses.

I explode. "There's three hundred sixty-four days in a year. That means I have been living in constant fear for one thousand, four hundred, and forty days that I will be Reaped! Not counting Leap Years! The prospect of being Reaped is with me almost every minute of every freaking day!"

Ravi punches my arm before I can wake up the whole District with my ranting. "Stop being so self-absorbed," he chides. "You think we forget about that? There are other people living in fear too, you know."

"Yeah, that's why I'm always doing this all the time," Merc said, lifting the Rubik's Cube slightly.

I sigh and stare at the rising sun once more. "You're right. Sorry, guys."

"No, it's fine, that's what friends are for," Merc says mildly. Ravi grunts in agreement.

I smile slightly. "Thanks for understanding."

We sit in silence for who knows how long before Ravi stands up. "I think we should go home before our parents know we're gone."

We climb out of the factory, and we're about to part ways when Merc stops us. "Wait, I need to give you guys something." He puts his Rubik's Cube in this drawstring bag that he carries around, and fishes out two parcels wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. "Here, these are for you to keep."

"Uh, thank you?" I frown at the parcel. It can't weigh more than four pounds. Curious, I begin to pull at the string.

Merc slaps my hand. "No, don't!"

"Why not?" Ravi demands.

"It's obviously going to explode, Ravi," I say sarcastically. "After all, it has the exact weight of an explosive."

Merc raises an eyebrow at me. I return the favor. "Just don't open it until you are preparing for the Reaping, okay?"

Ravi shrugs his bone-thin shoulders. "Sure, whatever." He turns to leave, but stops. "Are we going to meet at our usual spot?"

"Yes," Merc replies.

"Ravi, we're going to be meeting at the stage where the escort is," I say, sarcastic as always.

"You know what, Gus?" Ravi flips the finger, and then walks off.

"Your sarcasm will get you nowhere, Gus," Merc warns before walking off, waving a goodbye over his shoulder.

I smile at the receding backs of my friends, before heading home.

My home isn't very big. Well, it's huge compared to other homes in the poorer area of the District. It's a one-story house that allows me to sneak in and out quite easily.

I climb through my bedroom window, and immediately collapse on my bed and fall asleep.

Someone shakes me awake. "Leave me alone, Mom," I complain.

Laughter. "I'm not Mom, I'm Celsun."

I crack open a blue eye to see the black hair and grey eyes of my twenty-two-year-old sister. "Oh, hey, Cel'. Now could you kindly go away?"

"Aww, I came all this way and you rebuff me? I'm hurt, Gussy." Cel ruffles my hair, showing that she really isn't.

I swat away her hand and cover my head with my pillow. In response, Cel scoops me out of bed and carries me to the bathroom like a sack of potatoes, and dumps me on the floor.

"You better get ready for the Reaping," Cel said, "I know how much you hate them and love sleeping in, but you gotta' do it." With that, she closes the bathroom door.

Typical Cel, I should've seen it coming. Whenever she comes over from her place (she's married), she always wakes me up and then carries me to the bathroom, and I hate it.

Anyways, I get up and do my morning routine. Done. I go back to my room after peeking into my other sister's room, Fahres. Cel is trying to drag Fahres out of bed, but she's a lot bigger than I and Cel is unsuccessful.

Cel and Fahres could pass as twins, even though Fahres is two years younger; they stand at the same height, same long black hair and grey eyes, and skinny. Well, everyone's skinny in District 3, maybe except the mayor and his family. However, personality-wise, Cel is all rainbows and sunshine and cute kittens, while Fahres is more grey skies and rain clouds and dead puppies.

I shake my head and grin at the spectacle before heading to my room. Putting on the clothes Mom laid out for me the night before (a white shirt tucked into black slacks and socks; my shoes are on the shoe rack by the front door), I finally open the parcel to reveal. . .a tie. . .?

Really? Of all things, a tie? There's got to be a catch to this. I turn it over several times in my hands and examine every inch. Well, it's not bad-looking: it's black with small blue stripes, and feels real enough. I shake it for good measure. Merc didn't leave a note telling me what to do with it, and he did say to only open it when I'm preparing for the Reaping, so he must be telling me to wear it. . .but why?

Whatever, I'll wear it. It's a nice tie, and I shouldn't put nice gifts to waste. I mean, what else am I going to do with it? Strangle myself?

I race down the stairs two at a time for breakfast, hug my family (my dad compliments the tie), run out the door (after putting on my shoes) to meet up with my friends, only to see that they are. . .wearing the same thing I am?

Ravi doesn't look too happy (he never does on Reaping Day), but Merc is beside himself with laughter.

"It's not funny," Ravi grumbles, and (unsuccessfully) tries to kick Merc's shin.

"You guys are so predictable!" Merc says between laughter. "I couldn't help it!"

Ravi scowls. I'm not too happy either.

"We're gonna' look like triplets," I point out.

"Agustis Hurlen, genius of the day," Ravi gripes.

"No, I think it should be Mercury Wattson, genius of the week," Merc says, wiping away tears of joy with his tie. "And, Gus, we can't possibly look like triplets." He points at Ravi. "Your skin is a lot darker than the normal, default ashen skin of a District Three person, although you do have curly black hair." Ravi's scowl only deepens. "You" - he points at me - "are shorter than the average male-"

"Gee, thanks for pointing that out."

"Plus, you look like a District Two person." I give him the evil eye. "And I look normal."

"Whatever," Ravi says rudely, "let's just go and get this over with." We head in the direction of the District Square.

"You know, I only did this to cheer you guys up, it was supposed to be a joke."

Ravi kicks a pebble. "And look what it did."

"On the bright side, Glasses Geek," I say; Ravi punches me, "we've got this sweet tie. Thanks, Merc."

"No prob'."

We sign in and take our places. Mine's in the fifteen-year-olds, and the others in the sixteen-year-olds.

"Hello, District Three!" District 3's escort walks onto the stage, teetering on six-inch heels. "Are we excited today or what?" Cue in fake cheer from the crowd.

Candied apples gleam in her elaborate hairdo as she smiles down at us with a heavily-lipsticked face. I wonder if the apples in her hair are edible, but even if they are, I won't be eating them.

"My name's Candy Apple." Oh, so that's why she has apples in her hair. "And I shall be this year's escort," she says in her queer Capitol accent. She continues to drone on and on, and then the District Mayor shows us the video about the Hunger Games that I memorized when I was eight, when I had to watch in anticipation for my sisters.

Bored, I turn to wave at my family and my friends' families. I then look over to where my friends are. Merc is solving his Rubik's Cube for the billionth time, his wavy black hair slick with sweat. Ravi is fidgeting with his glasses, something he only does when he's extremely nervous.

I don't show it, but I'm extremely nervous too, although I really don't need to be; after all, Dad has a decent job working as a manager in this factory that produces machines, and the whole Hurlen family works there too (my job is to fix the machines that make machines), and I only had to sign up for tesserae once. Merc twice. Ravi, however, had to do so plenty of times. So I really shouldn't be worrying about myself, but about Ravi.

My train of thought is interrupted.

"And this year's lucky female tribute is-" The escort, Candy Apple, slowly unfolds the slip of paper, after teetering over to the bowl that contains multiple slips of female names. "Erin Flight," she finally announces.

A girl with long black hair and green eyes emerges from the sixteen-year-old section.

I smirk. "Bye-bye, Erin," I say under my breath.

Erin and I have a history of violence. Ever since I skipped a grade, we've been battling each other as to which of us will be top of our class. I'm proud to say I currently hold the crown; I grudgingly admit that we are almost equal in intellect. I don't know why we're enemies (although I am grateful for the rivalry), 'cuz Ravi and Merc are plenty smart too. I guess she just rubs me the wrong way.

"Now, time for the men." Candy reaches and grabs a slip from another bowl.

My palms start sweating. Ravi spins his glasses in his hands. Merc works furiously on his Rubik's Cube.

Candy takes her time in opening the slip, and squints at the name. "Ravik Nambikrishnan," she says slowly, mispronouncing almost every letter. Wait, Ravi's picked? I feel a cold chill up my spine as I look at one of my best friends - no, brother.

Ravi is frozen, his glasses in hand and mouth agape at the queer escort as if her words are the cause of his inability to move. A Peacekeeper nudges Ravi with a gun, which seems to restart him.

Merc is frozen as well, his hands still for once. Only his eyes move, and they follow Ravi's receding back. I'm doing the same thing, and I wonder if he - Merc - knows what I'm going to do, for he runs after me.

I prove to be the faster of the two and leap onto the stage, grab the mic, and say, "I volunteer."

"Gus, are you crazy?" Ravi demands.

"Gus, don't," Merc says, out of breath.

I ignore them both. "My name is Agustis Hurlen, and I volunteer for the Thirty-seventh Hunger Games."

A scream comes from the crowd of people as Erin and I shake hands, and are then ushered into the ironically-named Justice Building. I'll probably be named The District 3 Martyr in less than five minutes.

My family are the first to visit. Tears streaming down her face, Mom assaults me with a hug. "Oh, my son, my Agustis, why?" Why, indeed.

Next, my father. "We will be rooting for you."

I crack a smile. "Thanks, Dad."

"C'mere, you." Cel pulls me into a hug. "I - we - will be cheering you on. Always."

Fahres hugs me next. "Be careful out there; they already saw your weakness, and it'll be broadcast any minute now," she whispers in my ear. Oh, right, my weakness, it's gonna' be broadcast…great.

Mom kisses my forehead before they are ushered out. My friends soon replace them.

We stand in silence until. . ."That was stupid," Ravi deadpans. And then we all embrace. I know. Cheesy, right?

"Sorry I didn't bring you anything to bring to the Games," Ravi apologizes.

"It's fine, Ravi."

"Here, take my Rubik's Cube," Merc says. "Use it however you want. It isn't much, though."

I accept the gift without protesting. Nice gifts shouldn't go to waste, after all.

We embrace again. "Brothers for life?" I ask.

"Without a doubt," Ravi replies, a smile on his face for once, albeit a sad one.

"You guys are going to make me cry," Merc says, wiping away an imaginary tear - or was it?

They are ushered out of the room soon after, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a Rubik's Cube.

What have I done? I think, as I look out the window. Not only have I volunteered for my death, but Ravi will have to live with the thought that he killed me! And my family! Mom was beside herself with grief!

"It's time to go," a Peacekeeper says, coming into the room.

I nod numbly, look outside to commit the image - my home District - to memory, and follow the ironically-named Peacekeepers.

Walking to the train station, I notice Erin looking around District 3 one last time before getting into the high-tech train; I decide to do the same.

"In you go, dearie," the escort says. I comply.

The train takes off, and the surroundings muddle into a blur. Erin, a few seats away from me, is numbly looking at the passing foliage, probably thinking about the people she left behind.

Not wanting to reminisce on my actions, I go to another compartment of the train. I find a wide, flat-screen TV showing the beginning of the District 3 Reapings, and a young man - no, teenager - of eighteen. He jumps when I enter, and grabs a knife from a platter.

"Whoa." I hold up my empty hands. "I'm unarmed."

The teenager visibly relaxes. "Sorry about that," he says, putting down the knife, "it's just that…" He trails off.

"You won the Thirty-second Games and your name is Beetee, which makes you one the mentors." And mentally unstable, apparently. "I'm Agustis Hurlen."

"Yes, I am, and nice to meet you, Agustis." We shake hands. "Sorry again, by the way." Beetee's eyes trail off into the distance, and I realize that he has old eyes. They saw things a person his age shouldn't have seen; things that I will be seeing.

"Please, have a seat," he says, coming back to the present. We sit in silence, until one of the anchormen calls me the District 3 Martyr. A-ha, so my prediction was true.

"Huh, you must really care for this person," Beetee observes when they show my volunteering.

"Yeah, he's like a brother to me," I say quietly.

"Hnn. Well, I hope you don't like people in general, and are hard to get along with," he replies.

"I am that kind of person," I deadpan.

"Good, because that's not what you just showed everyone." He gets up. "Although, you're surprisingly civil to me."

"You're my mentor; I should be nice to you. After all, you're the one who gives me gifts in the Arena."

"Ah, good strategy. You should try faux-friendliness to the Capitol too, or at least charm them; they're the ones who buy the gifts, I just send it to you," Beetee says, smiling.

"I'll keep that in mind," I reply. Beetee nods, and leaves the compartment.

I take out Merc's Rubik's Cube and start solving it while watching the other District Reapings. This year's tributes look tough. They all look capable of doing something. I sigh; I guess I'll just have to outsmart them.

I'm on District 11's Reapings when a shadow falls over me. Freaked, I turn around and throw the Cube at the shadow, only to have it hit the escort's face.

There is a man behind Candy Apple, and he bursts out in laughter. Enraged, Candy Apple rounds on me. "Young man," she fumes, "what you did was-"

"Hilarious," the man says between tears, "absolutely hilarious! And not to mention good aim and great instincts." He continues laughing.

"No, it was not, Bolt!" Candy screeches. "It was rude and completely unacceptable!"

"What are you going to do about it?" the man, Bolt, challenges. "After all, you can't hurt this poor tribute; it's against the rules and 'completely unacceptable'." He mimics the Capitol accent on the last phrase.

Enraged, Candy spins on her six-inch heels, a feat I dare not do, and storms out. I go to retrieve the Rubik's Cube, wiping off the lipstick stain from it.

Still smirking, Bolt plops himself on a couch and studies me. In response, I study him.

Bolt Sullivan is the other mentor, and the first District 3 victor. He won the thirteenth Hunger Games when he was sixteen. He's currently forty, but he looks older.

Bolt finally speaks up. "You're that District Three Martyr, aren't you?"

"No, I'm the District Six Savior," I reply, my sarcasm returning.

Dinner passes in a blur. I eat delicious Capitol delicacies, but I would trade them for a regular District 3 meal any day.

I wander around, absently twisting the Cube this way and that, until I find the name 'AGUSTIS HURLEN' in big bold letters on a door. For fun, I rearrange the words so it says: 'A GUST HURLS INE', which doesn't make much sense, but at least it occupies my mind and vanquishes my homesickness, however briefly.

Opening the door, the room inside is luxurious. A king-size bed in the corner, a bureau containing clothes of foreign material, a door leading into a high-tech bathroom, and a lamp. My family isn't poor, but they aren't rich enough to afford these luxuries.

Changing into nightclothes the bureau kindly provides, I collapse on the bed, feeling dwarfed by its vastness and suddenly alone.

To comfort myself, I decide to recite a story to myself that Mom used to tell me when I was young.

"Once upon a time, there was this slave who worked for a rich man. He was unhappy with his job, his master was mean to him, and he didn't get paid.

There were other slaves too. They were unhappy, Master was mean, and they didn't get paid either.

All of the slaves were forced to work hard to bring the things the rich man wanted, and the rich man didn't have to work at all; he just said: 'Do it', and the slaves did it.

This particular slave was unhappier than the rest. He hated the rich man more than the others. One day, the slave realized that he actually didn't have to work for the rich man, so he wrote a note saying that he didn't want to anymore. He sent it to the rich man, but the rich man laughed at the note.

The next day, the rich man found the dead body of the slave.

The End."

A rather morbid bedtime story, but I guess she thought I was too young to comprehend the meaning. Or she told me this because she knew I'd remember the story, and then understand it when I was older.

Whatever, I'm too tired and I don't want to think about it. So I curl up in my massive bed and try to sleep.

Sleep comes to me, and I dream dreams of blood.