Fiona Fierry

Fiona held her brothers' hands tightly as they entered the square. This was their first Reaping, and they had been up all night with anxiety. This was Fiona's last, and after today she'd be able to go back to work in the plant and hope that Flynn and Fein stayed safe. As she led them to their section, a strong gust blew in and made the hairs on Fiona's neck stand on end. She missed her long hair. Right now it was all rough and choppy. Soon it'd grow back, but she'd probably just sell it again.

Back in her own section, Fiona caught up with her friend Joella. She had lost her younger sister to the Games two years ago, and had bee pretty shaken ever since.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen of District Five. Today we'll find out the names of our eight lucky tribute who will compete in the Fourth Quarter Quell." Fiona despised the escort, Cornelius, more than anything. He was always so happy to lead tributes to their deaths. Without hesistation, or a speech or anything, Cornelius walked to the girls' Reaping ball and pulled out four slips of paper. He must not have wanted to waste anymore time than he had to, so he could get back to his beautiful Capitol sooner.

"Please welcome miss Fiona Fierry." Said Cornelius, and Fiona froze.

Ganch Sightson

Ganch hated the Reaping. Every year she had to watch two unfortunate, crying kids be taken away from their families and essentially murdered. She didn't have to worry about that, anymore though. She didn't care if she was Reaped, and her brother had ust been taken away to her aunt in another District. With both her parents gone, Ganch had no one left to worry for her, or worry about. This time she'd make a difference.

"Kira Mack." Called Cornelius. Ganch saw the thirteen-year-old girl pulled from her section by two Peacekeepers. She was so tiny, clearly from a poorer family. Ganch wouldn't watch this girl die when she at least had a family to go home to.

"I volunteer!" She shouted, and Ganch became the very first volunteer to come from District Five.

Iris Dreamcoat

A volunteer? Are they related? Iris was confused, which didn't happen often. Never before had Five produced a volunteer tribute. She was nervous, too. This was her first time in the Reaping, and being from a large, poor family, she'd had to take out multiple tesserae to help out. Her sister, though, was the one she worried about. Chartreuse was seventeen, and had been taking out tesserae for the past six years. Her name was in there over forty times. Her odds were worse than most of Five. Iris didn't even want to think about what would happen if Cha…

"Iris Dreamcoat!" said Cornelius. Iris hear screams from the crowd, surely her family. She wouldn't break down. She wouldn't cry. She was too smart for that. Tributes didn't get sponsors by crying.

On stage, when Cornelius realized he had Reaped a twelve-year-old, he called for any volunteers. Iris liked him in that instant. If Five had just gotten its first ever volunteer, would someone save Iris? Seven other members of her family were in the Reaping, yet none stepped forward to save Iris, the youngest of them. She was alone.

Seairra Lightwater

Seairra fidgeted with the pink ribbon tied up in her hair. She kept pulling out the bow and redoing it over and over. She wanted to go home. She didn't want to be at the Reaping. Seairra just wanted to get today over with, so she could enjoy another year before she was brought back here again.

"And here we go. Our final female tribute." Conelius stopped talking to up the dramatics. "I can feel the suspense in the air," he said proudly, thinking the audience cared about anything he said. "Miss Seairra Lightwater. Where are you, dear?"

No. No. No. No. No. Seairra wanted to run away. She didn't want to be a tribute, but she had to accept this news quickly. Refusing to show any fear, Seairra skipped her way to the stage.

Zane Aperetchton

Zane watched in confusion as the last girl skipped to the stage. Was she stupid? Did she not know what the word 'tribute' meant? How could anyone take that so calmly? Zane swayed back ad forth on his toes, anxiously awaiting to hear the names of the ulucky four guys going to the Arena. Cornelius pulled four names from the boys' reaping ball, one at a time. As he walked back to the podium, Zane's friend Skander elbowed him in the side. When Zane looked, Skander held up his hands, fingers crossed.

"Zane Aperetchton!"

Skander's face froze in a look of horror. Zane just didn't know what to do. He turned back around to face the stage, ad already a Peacekeeper was combing through the crowd to collect him. He followed the Peacekeeper to the stage, where he unfortunately took his place on stage next to the girls.

Alarzin Blackley

Cornelius slapped a hand down on Zane's back, and returned to the podium to call out the next name. He picked up on of the slips of paper.

"Alarzin Blackley!"

Alarzin had been wringing his hands nervously in his section, and with good reason. In the past year, his mother had gotten sick and couldn't work, so Alarzin had been forced to take out a lot of tesserae to feed his family of eight. Before this year, he'd only needed to take out one or two tesserae, to make ends meet, but now he was the main source of sustenance for his family. It wasn't a shock to him that he'd been reaped. Without pausing, and keeping his head down, Alarzin walked forward and took his place as a tribute.

Bridgely Olivier

Bridgely was nervous. With so many tributes going to the arena this year, the odds of being chosen were much higher and the odds of coming out alive were much slimmer. He and his older brother were nearly free of any tesserae, but it only took one slip to be sent off to the Capitol. Bridgely thought of his little sister, alone at home with their father if the brothers were taken. He didn't want that thought, and quickly thrust it from his head.

"The third male tribute." Bridgely looked over to Maron, in the oldest section, and hoped it wasn't his brother. "Our third male tribute is Bridgley Olivier." It wasn't Maron, but Bridgely had just been handed his death sentence.

Gustin Waters

"Our last tribute is Gustin Waters!" called Cornelius.

Gustin refused. He would not become a tribute in the Games. His place was here, in Five, working in the power plants that kept the Capitol running. He would not leave. But still, the Peacekeepers came for him. He tried to fight them off, but they were stronger, better fed, and the subdued him. He wasn't small, but he was lifted off the ground and forced to the aisle. They would make him walk himself to the stage. Gustin stood his ground. He would not give in that easily. There had to be some way out of this. Gustin knew the only way was for a volunteer to come forward, and her knew that no one would come, but this couldn't be it. He couldn't just give up, allow himself to be shipped off to the Capitol, and brutally murdered on television.