District 5 Introductions: Statues


Jaxs Williamson, 18.


He was taught to be a statue.

"Sit still Jaxs," his mother ordered constantly.

"Smile Jaxs, the people adore it." His father suggested rather forcefully.

"Good posture!" His tutor yelped at the top of her bird-like lungs.

"Shoulders back."

"Walk like you have a purpose."

"Comb your hair."

"Shake his hand."

"Don't speak."

"Hands at your side."

"Wave your hand."

"Don't misbehave."

So many commands, so many people barking orders at him. Yet, he took it all in stride, like he was brought up to do. Being the son of an influential politician in District Five, he wasn't allowed to do anything else. He had to smile and wave, as if nothing was wrong. He was forbidden to show any emotion. Even if someone called him a dirty word at school or he got a promotion at his job, he had to remain stoned-face. It was his duty to hide all his emotions underneath his thick skin.

Jaxs stared at his mother from across the dinner table. She sat at the head of the table, her arms placed perfectly in her lap. Her back pressed up against the backside of the pine chair. His chair was of the same material, a hearty wood imported from the vast forests of District Seven. The wooden chairs and tables were a luxury most other citizens of Five did not possess. It had been a gift from the capitol, a thank you to his father for helping put down the rebellion a mere ten years ago. He had also been granted a top spot in the government of District Five in reward for his efforts. Yet, Jaxs knew his father had no real power. It was all for show, a gimmick to satisfy the people of Five into believing they had some real say in the decisions made solely by the capitol. Even his father knew that. He still kept up the act, just as Jaxs kept up his.

His mother coughed into her arm, snapping Jaxs out his stupor. "Napkin on your lap," she managed to say through coughs.

Jaxs spotted the white napkin laying right next to his ceramic white bowl. He picked it up, the soft material rubbing up against his rough and rigid hands. The silverware sitting atop it clattered to the tabletop. It made a loud noise, startling his mother. She scowled at him.

"Jaxs!" She exclaimed, her brow furrowed. It was a bad habit of his to not take the silverware off the napkin before he set it on his lap.

"Sorry mother," he replied, setting the placid white napkin on his lap.

She shook her head back and forth in disappointment. "What did I tell you about saying sorry?"

"Saying sorry is a sign of weakness. You must say my bad instead. Saying my bad means you acknowledged your mistake and won't make the same one again," he recited from memory. He had heard it enough times to know it verbatim anyways.

His mother nodded her head mutely and returned to her ridged position in her chair.

Just then, his father walked into the room, a giant bowl of steaming vegetable soup cupped in his hands. He set it down on the table and retreated to his chair on the opposite side of the table. As soon as he sat, his mother reached for the bowl of soup and served herself. She passed it on to Jaxs, who took a little too much then he was allowed by his mother's standards. From the young age of six, his mother had been logging all the food he ate to ensure he would grow up to be the right size and proportion. A future politician couldn't be overweight or look like they hadn't eaten in days.

Jaxs began to eat his soup in little sips, just as his mother had instructed. Still, he ended up finishing before both his mother and father.

"Don't eat so fast!" His mother yelped as she glanced to his empty bowl. "If you were to eat that fast in public, everyone would think you were a pig!"

"And my son is definitely not a pig," Jaxs' father said as he went to take another spoonful of soup.

Jaxs glanced down towards his bowl, blinking a few times. It was empty, a few droplets of water clinging desperately to the sides. "May I be excused then?"

His father nodded his head, flicking his finger upwards to motion his son out of his chair.

"And may I ask where you are going?" Jaxs' mother demanded.

"Xander's place." Jaxs responded.

His mother rolled her leafy green eyes. "You are still friends with that hooligan?"

His father interfered. "Martha, th-"

"No, Westley! It's not enough! My son needs more regal friends, I can't deal with him hanging around with that scum. He is the son on an influential politician after all. He is an incredibly awful influence on Jaxs. We should make it a house rule that he is forbidden from seeing that boy again."

Jaxs possessed the urge to scream at the top of his lungs. His friend wasn't a hooligan, he was an amazing person. Xander was everything Jaxs aspired to be, friendly, popular, and free. Yet he knew better than to lash out.

"Fine, then I am going to go sit out on the porch and read. It is a civilized activity, after all. And it follows all house rules," Jaxs responded, his voice possessing no emotion. He didn't even sound enraged, or the least bit upset.

His mother smiled, shooing him away. Reading pleased her. It looked good for him to be scholarly, especially in the public eye. Little did she know Jaxs was throwing knives at a concrete wall behind their sparkling fake mansion because he couldn't keep his emotions bottled up inside any longer.

Statues do crack, after all.


Lux Ward, 14.

The camera zoomed in. It seemed to follow her every movement, her every step. It followed her right this very moment as she sat in her springy bed.

"Rise and shine girls. Work doesn't do itself!" An enthusiastic voice crackled over the loud speaker. The other eleven girls in the room stirred, their eyes blinking open and their sleep vanishing. Some grumbled and others groaned. They were all exhausted, as they were only allowed six hours of rest at the Training Center for Indigent Female Youth, or she liked to refer to it, the Louse House. A white light flickered on, signaling the girls to get dressed.

She, along with the eleven other girls, scrambled to the single rotting wooden dresser at the back corner of the room. The top drawer flew open to reveal twelve pairs of plain grey work clothes. The girls yelped and shoved as they all tried to get the cleanest one. Still, even the cleanest one reeked strongly of sweat and body odor.

"Get out of the way, skank!" Torent, the oldest girl in the house screeched at the top of her lungs. In addition to being the oldest, she was by far the tallest, standing at a high 5' 11". She towered over most of the younger girls and pushed them out of the way with ease. She always got the cleanest clothes.

Lux hung back slightly, watching as all the girls practically ripped each other to shreds over a simple piece of cloth. She chuckled slightly, amused at their squabbling. Getting hurt wasn't worth a clean shirt or pants that actually fit.

After they had all dispersed with their prizes in hand, Lux headed over to the dresser and peered in. A single pair of clothes remained sprawled out inside the drawer. She shrugged, slipping the shirt on over her head. It reeked of body odor and was littered with orange stains.

Once the girls were all dressed, they scrambled down the creaking stairs to the kitchen. Waiting on the dirtied table was a few slices of burned bread. Donated by the bakery, their meals mainly consisted of mess-ups and food that had long gone stale. Only on reaping day would they receive food that was edible.

It was the same show again. Lux watched at the girls scrabbled for meager crumbs of bread, stuffing as much as they could get into their mouths. Lux weaved through the crowd, heading over to Ester, a small girl with a large slice of bread in her hand.

"Remember our deal?" Lux asked, her blue eyes narrowing downwards at the tiny girl. Ester nodded her head mutely, her fingers wrapping around the piece of bread even tighter.

"But I'm hungry," Ester whined, clutching the bread tight to her chest. "Can't you just forget the deal for day? Please?"

Lux shook her head back and forth, extending her hand out in the direction of Ester. Ester reluctantly plopped the bread down in Lux's palm and stomped away. Lux didn't feel the least bad for the girl. Here, it was indeed survival of the fittest. Lux needed to play dirty in order to live another day. That including blackmailing her fellow housemates, including the meek Ester.

Lux stuffed the bread in her mouth before another girl could snatch it out of her hands. She swallowed it whole, not bothering to chew it. The taste wasn't very appealing anyways.

Lux hated it here, but she admitted life wouldn't be much better even with her parents. They had once been a wealthy family, the owners of a popular casino in the district. People from all over Panem came to gamble their money away. Some even hailed from the capitol, wanting to try their chance at luck. A few turned out to have "luck", while most retreated home with empty pockets. Most of the casino was rigged. Lux wasn't surprised though, as her parents never played fair. Again, neither did she.

"Please report down to the plant for work," the same voice crackled over the loud speaker. Like a flock of birds, the girls migrated towards the door and out into the blinding daylight. They made their way through the streets of the district and eventually to the power plant. There, Lux headed towards the maintenance closet and retreated a broom.

Work at the plant was same as always, mundane. Rarely anything happened that was out of the ordinary. Lux slaved the day away, wondering if anything eventful would happen. Nothing did.


A/N: Hello all! Thank you for reading, this is your first glimpse into some of the tributes lives. How did you like little Lux and Jaxs?

Note: I am still accepting tributes, these were just two that I really liked and wanted to get a headstart on. I am particularly looking for males, but still feel free to submit females. Submissions close this Friday, May 19th!

Note 2: I wrote this when I was sick with the flu, so it may have some errors and such. Constructive criticism is well appreciated. Oh and just because your submitted District 5 tribute wasn't written here doesn't mean they won't be in the story. They may appear in another district I think works better for them.