The Reaping:

I'm actually very surprised with myself that I'm updating daily. Just barely, seeing as I usually post new chapters in the middle of the night, but who cares? Anyway, I'm really excited to have you all reading along.

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P.S: I love you too, Sarah Willy!

District Three:

Iella Callister-

Never walk alone. Never again. That is what Asha told me when we first met. Years ago, after my brother Bryll and I escaped our abusive parents, we ran into some trouble. Byrll and I barely got by, never knowing where we would be sleeping, or if we would have full bellies that day. One night, I left my brother in an old tavern while I went out. The owner kept him safe so I could go find us some food, since it's pretty challenging when you have a toddler following you around.

District Three is a very large district, covering the bottom of what used to be called the Rocky Mountains. It's filled with villages—some safer than others. I learned this the hard way when I went out, scavenging for food. I was digging through the trash in a lonely ally way when I heard footsteps closing in on me. Thinking it was the shopkeeper, I grabbed what I could from the garbage and started to run. A man grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him, causing all of my pickings to fall to the ground. He steadied me, and spoke in a quiet, ironically friendly voice. "What are you doing, digging through the trash? What could make a young girl, such as yourself, so desperate?" I remained silent, feeling shameful. The man pushed a loose strand of hair back behind my ear, and leaned in to whisper, "I wonder what else you would do with that desperation."

I was only twelve at the time, but I know what the man wanted, and he sure as hell wasn't getting it from me. "Stop," I ordered. When he wouldn't pull away, I slammed him hard in the chest, causing him to reel back a little. He only laughed, advancing on me again. Then, I gave him a good, hard, slap. The kind makes your neck snap to the side, creating a loud, satisfying 'SMACK!'. He slowly turned his face back to face me, looking furious. "That was really stupid," He said bluntly.

I closed my eyes as he pushed me against the building, and I continued to punch, scratch, and bite every part of him I could. All of a sudden, warm liquid splattered me in the face. I opened my eyes to the man with blood trickling down his chin. He fell to the ground with a knife in his back. My first instinct was to run, but it was like my feet were glued to the floor. I then heard a voice, coming out from the shadows.

"You have a fighter's instinct," Suddenly, a woman about seven years older than me revealed herself from her haven of darkness. I later learned that this woman's name was Ezra, and she was a leader of an all-girl gang. I took a few steps back from her as she approached me, but then I realized she wasn't alone. She had a younger girl trained at her side. Asha. "We could use that."

At first, I was frightened, wiping the man's blood from my face with disgust. But somehow, Asha's reassuring smile kept me calm. "Use it for what?" I asked.

Ezra ignored my question, and asked one of her own. "How long has it been since you ate?" I shrugged, and they both smiled at me sympathetically. Asha went digging through her pockets, and pulled out something wrapped in fine paper. She unwrapped it before handing it to me. It was a slightly melted wedge of cheese. I quickly snatched it away from her hands and devoured it instantly, feeling guilty that I didn't save some for Bryll. "How long do you think you can survive on your own—on the street, no less."

A lump formed in the back of my throat from swallowing the cheese too quickly, so I hesitated in my response. "I don't—" I stopped to clear my throat, sputtering a bit. "—have any other options,"

"There are always options," Ezra replied firmly. She went into her own pockets and dug out an apple. She handed it to me and I gratefully stashed it away, saving it for Bryll and me to share. "We have a place that you can stay. It's an abandoned warehouse full of girls, but we have open beds. You'll have food to eat, if you're willing to help out. We're like a family. You'll have our backs, and we'll have yours."

I frowned as I looked down at my apple, sudden feeling like there were strings attached to it. "What does that mean?" I asked.

Asha stepped forward, speaking for the first time. "It means that you'll never walk alone. Never again."

Maybe if I followed that advice, I wouldn't be in such a mess now, almost five years later.

Knox Brigg-

Clang, Clang, Clang. The sound of metal on metal fills my workshop, as it does on any other Sunday morning. Clang, Clang, Clang. This work is the only thing that can clear my mind. Clang, Clang, Clang. It's the only—clang—thing—clang—that keeps me out of trouble. Wielding is not only my job, it's not only my distraction, but it's my calling. Clang, Clang, Clang.

I wasn't always like this—throwing myself into work to release turmoil. I used to find more dangerous way to let off steam. Fighting, for example, used to be my greatest pastime. After working out some, I developed a bit of an ego. This caused all sorts of trouble between me and my best friend Sinna Lyx. She got pretty tired of me beating on lesser kids. Eventually, when one of those kids ended up being her twin brother Rhodey Jax, she completely lost it. That's the only fight I can remember us ever having. It ended with her giving me an ultimatum. I had to quit the big bully routine. It was either that, or lose her completely. And of course, I chose Sinna Lynx. I would do anything for her.

I've known Sinna for quite a while now, and I guess you could say that she was my only true friend for a long time. Most of our class was filled with kids who either didn't like me, or were afraid of me. I guess Sinna saw something inside me that nobody else could—something I didn't even know was there. When she first sat down next to me at lunch, I ignored her, thinking it was a joke. Then she started talking. Nothing important, or particularly interesting; our history teacher, the weather, the factories—she chatted through the whole lunch period. Finally, when the bell rang and she stared to stand up to dump her tray, I grabbed her wrist. "Why are you talking to me?" I asked. She just shrugged, and walked off to her next class. She sat with me every day since.

Her brother Rhodey and I had a little trouble warming up to each other, but Sinna insisted that we try to get along. It was awkward for a while, because we didn't have anything to talk about. That was before I learned that he liked wielding too, which finally gave us something to bond over. I showed him my small workspace, and we became fast friends after that. The three of us—Rhodey, Sinna, and I—became inseparable. Now that I have friends, I don't know what I'd do without them. I'd be lonelier than I ever care to admit.

Iella Callister-

"Just what in hell were you thinking, Iella?" Asha demands, fussing over me as I'm carried into the warehouse by two other girls. My life has changed so much—I'm no longer the helpless twelve year old girl I was when I joined the gang. For starters, I'm lieutenant now, seeing as Asha took over as leader. Ezra was killed a few years after I joined up.

"Nothing," I reply simply, holding a towel to my injury. It nearly bleeds through, but I don't have much strength at the moment to put enough pressure on it. Once the girls lay me down on a table, one of them presses down on it forcefully, causing me to wince.

"Nothing, hmm?" Asha asks, raising her voice in fury. "Well that's damn well obvious. Why did you go out by yourself?"

I sighed impatiently, just wishing I would go unconscious. "I went on a walk. It was nothing. I was clearing my head."

"You ended up three blocks away from the center of operations of another gang! One that, to say the least, doesn't like us very much!" She's screaming by now, causing some more girls to come around to see what's going on. "You're lucky you're not dead,"

Regardless to the fact that the flesh over my stomach is sliced open, Asha won't give it a rest. There is no point arguing with her, but ignoring her is equally dangerous. "I know, I'm sorry. I really just got distracted. I was lost in thought. I didn't know where I was until it was too late."

She calms down a bit, but I know she's still pissed. "Well, next time you're on one of your little soul-searching missions, take one of us with you. Got it?" I nod immediately, and she sits down beside me. She scowls down at my wound, but doesn't say anything more about it. She just replaces the towels. The bleeding has slowed down a lot, and I know what a terminal injury looks like, and this is not it. Still, it hurts like hell. It wasn't one of my better knife fights, but that may just be because I was taken off guard.

"Iella?" I hear my brother calling for me. "Iella, what's wrong?"

I pull Asha towards me and whisper in her ear. "Get him out of here," She nods, and turns towards Bryll. He can't see me like this. He already worries too much. "It's okay, Bry. Asha just—fell out of a tree. Let's go out and pick her up some bandages, hmm?" I don't believe for a second that Bryll buys it. I've fallen out of lots of trees in his lifetime with the scars to prove it, and he's getting a little old for that excuse. He's going on eight pretty soon, but all the girls still baby him. After all, he's not just my brother—he's our brother.

Rose, who's putting pressure on my stomach, looks at me with exasperation. "Pretty rotten time to get sliced up, huh? Reaping day?" I roll my eyes, and then shrug. "Well—are you going?"

"To the reaping?" I ask in disbelief. "Are you kidding? Of course I'm going. The only way to get out of meeting at the square with the rest of the District is if you're—"

"Fatally wounded?" She interrupts with a smirk.

"This—" I say, gesturing to my injury, "Is not fatal. We can call Cara to give me a few stiches, wrap me up, and send me on my way. I'll be fine."

Knox Brigg-

I hear a knock at my workroom's door, and let my hammer drop to my table. "Come in!" I yell, a little bothered to be disturbed. The door creaks open to reveal my father in its frame.

"You should get ready pretty soon. You only have about a half hour before we leave for the Square." He says, striding on in and making himself comfortable in a chair.

"Yeah, I know," I reply, picking up my hammer again. "I'm almost done."

My father stands up and peers over my shoulder at my work. "Almost done?" He asks in doubt. "It looks like you've only just started. Now son, I know you're a fast wielder, but—"

I laugh, cutting him off. "Almost done for the day, I meant."

"Alright," He responds. "Ten minutes?"

"Five," I correct him, already pounding the sword with my hammer. He watches me a few moments longer, than exits without another word. My father has always been supportive of me embracing my more constructive nature. He always jokes that when I'm not destroying something, I'm creating something. And it's probably true.

My home has always been a happy one. I live with both of my parents, and am an only child. My mom and dad are better parents than I could ever ask for, and sometimes better than I give them credit for. They give me everything they can. We're not the richest of families, but we live a comfortable life. I don't even have to wish for siblings, because that's basically what Sinna and Rhodey are.

After a few more minutes in my shop, I go back to the house. My parents already have my clothes laid out for me, which is a little annoying. I sighed irritably before snatching up the clothes and heading towards my bedroom. I throw on some black jeans, and button up a red dress shirt over my white tank top. I go to the mirror and rough up my hair a little, but there's not much I can do with it, seeing as it's buzzed. I take my time tying my shoes, and end up putting on an assortment of metal rings and bracelets, just for something to do. I'm ready for the reaping with time to spare.

Iella Callister-

By the time I get to the square, it's packed. I misjudged how much my wound would hold me up. I impatiently careen through people, trying to get to my age group, Asha at my side. The reaping goes the way it always does. Long, tedious speeches… Inappropriate laughter and applause… It's a joke.

My ears perk up just in time for Luke Kelpanns, our District Three escort, to announce the female tribute. "And here we have—" He takes a pause. "Lilith Emmers!" I turn to Asha, and her face turns white.

Lilith Emmers is a young girl who lives with us in the warehouse. She's only twelve years old, and still recovering from years of mental and physical abuse. She can't hold on to a thought, let alone a weapon. She would be dead within the first five minutes of the Games. Suddenly, the words are out of my mouth before I can help it. "I volunteer!"

Luke Kelpanns searches the crowd, and I wave my hand at him. "That's the spirit! Alright, then. Please join us on the stage." I start to push my way through the crowd, being weary of my stitches, when Asha holds me back.

"No, take me! I volunteer!" She yells, not letting me go.

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, young lady. Miss—" He pauses, not knowing my name.

"Callister," I oblige.

"Ah, Miss Callister then, has already volunteered. She beat you to it, it seems. But don't worry, there's always next year!"

The look on Asha's face is murderous, and I realize she may never forgive me. But I know that eventually, once she was over the shock, she would have done the same thing for Lilith. She's only a helpless child, after all. I don't know how I would go on without Asha, but I also don't know how the gang would go on without her. If I die in the games, the girls lose a lieutenant. If Asha dies—they lose a leader. Their true leader. And, if I do end up winning, I would have more than enough money to give us all better lives.

So, yes, I volunteer for the 45th Hunger Games. And I have every intention of returning.

Knox Brigg-

The first girl tribute is picked—some girl named Lilith—but another girl volunteers in her place. Luke Kellpans introduces her as Iella Callister. I don't recognize the name, but when she goes up on the stage, she looks familiar. I'm still trying to place her when she takes a seat next to Georgio Hernadez, last year's victor. I don't have time to ponder it further though, because Luke Kellpans dunks his bright orange hand into the glass bowl filled with boys' names. He smiles brightly before announcing a name. My name. Knox Brigg.

And that concludes the reaping of District Three! Let me know how I'm doing here, and check back for a new chapter tomorrow.