District 5! Tributes (and mentor) courtesy of Hollow-Kuchiki (Raidon Shimizu), tylee4ever (Avri Veen), and Stop-IBegYou (Celeste Valentine)

Raidon Shimizu

I stare at the dilapidated ceiling of our latest home. It's better than staring up at rain clouds. Sure it's a ramshackle dump of a place, but someone once said that home isn't a building, it's the people you're with. Of course, another shot of morphling would make it a whole hell of a lot better. Unfortunately, we're out of funds.

I pick up one of my few possessions: a worn, loved book dating back before the Dark Days. If I can't have a real drug, this is the best next thing to escaping this world for an hour. I read by the dim light filtering in through the boarded window. I'm lost in the final battle when a soft voice snaps me back to reality.

"Hey Rai?" she whispers. Meg sits up and shakes out her messy blonde curls. She isn't technically related to me, but she might as well be. She's practically been my little sister for the past eight years.

"What?" I say.

"Do you think I'm getting reaped?" She asks in all sincerity.

"No, I don't," I reassure her. It's true. "You only take one tessarae a year, so you have how many slips?"

"Six"

"There's about let's say four thousand teens in the 12-18 age range, so figure on roughly half of those being girls. At least 80% of those have multiple entries. Odds increase as you get older, so there is a chance on some in larger families having fifty plus slips. So for calculation sake, let's assume there is eight thousand girl entries..."

"I get it! I get it! Just shut up please!"

I grin at her, "There is roughly only a .075% chance for your name to be drawn."

"Thanks, Einstein."

"Did I just get a compliment?"

"Almost. Don't let it go to your head, it's big enough already..."

Avri Veen

Day of Fear. Day of Agony. Day of Doom. Reaping Day.

Why this day is treated like a holiday, I have no idea. There is nothing to celebrate, unless you're the grim reaper of something. People get hurt. People die.

Tears well up in my eyes just thinking about it. How can people be so cruel and heartless? It sickens me.

My mom can't see me be nervous, or else she's going to start crying...I'll start crying again. I really don't want to start that vicious cycle. Dad doesn't like tears. I wipe my face real quick, my skin is a little blotchy, but there's nothing I can do about that. Darn the curse of red hair, pale skin.

I walk slowly down the stairs. I happen to be lucky enough to have one of the few two story houses in District 5. Some people might think I'm stuck up because I'm not in poverty. I'm not, I promise. I'm just...blessed, very blessed.

I barely reach the kitchen when my mom wraps me up in a tight hug, "Sleep well, honey?"

"Yes," I lie. I lay awake for hours before finally falling to sleep only to be haunted by nightmares.

"Nervous?"

No use lying here. "Yes," I say almost unintelligibly.

And why wouldn't I be? It's my first ever reaping! I have a piece of paper in the giant bowl. I could be chosen. I could be killed.

Celeste Valentine

My turn again, whoopde-damn-do. That's one of the disadvantages to a District without victors, you have to mentor a whole heck of a lot more.

It's not that I hate the kids. I hate watching them die. And, sadly, that's what happens to all of them. I'm 5's the most recent Victor and I won four years ago. Before me, we went thirty years without a winner.

The Games have devoured my life. It ate my best friend and spit out the bones. It swallowed my peace. It consumed my sleep and overall well being. Yet I have to obey it's every call.

I take my seat on stage at the last possible minute, avoiding small talk with the fat bumbling mayor. Next to me, Raaven is already snoring. He is at least sixty, and by the smell of it quite drunk.

The escort doesn't waste any time. "Ladies first!" She digs around in the giant glass bowl. "Avri Veen?" She sounds uncertain.

No one moves for the longest time. Then finally a small ginger emerges from the crowds. Oh gosh, she's twelve. That makes it so much worse.

Nervous tears run down her face and she doesn't bother to wipe them away or try to hide them. The pain is too much. She chews on her bottom lip, probably trying to keep a sob from escaping. Poor thing.

The escort pats her shoulder, "There, there, sweetie. It's all going to be okay." Wow, sympathy from the Capitol. Gotta be a first.

Only I catch the eye roll as she turns to the boy's bowl. "Raidon Shimizu?"

As the boy makes his way to the stage, a bitter sounding laugh echoes humorlessly from him. "4.2% chance of making it back. Odds sure not in my favor."

Smart ass. I have to crack a grin, even though he's right. My tributes never win. District 5 curse I suppose.