Benjamin Romulus (15), District Seven Male-POV

Unlike the many other citizens of the lumber District, I had not been born among their ranks. I had not received a postcard from the Griffin Company, informing my parents about how they would be expected to return to work in a week's time. My first memories had not been of peopling sobbing, drowning their happy tears in a meager portion of mead, and the younger citizens looking on with awe. That must have been the way the memories of each other child in this place, including Enobaria, my sister, who had been born in this beautiful yet dreary place.

Enobaria, the brat was almost sometimes tolerable. The two of us looked nothing alike, with the only exception that each of our eyes had become hardened, appearing more like slits of steel than soft blue irises. It was remarkable that we even shared that slight similarity, as I had been adopted; Enobaria had not been. My original District is a mystery to me, though my sister enjoyed to haughtily inform me about how the, "Losers in dumb old District Twelve," had tossed me through the gates as to avoid being disgraced anymore. Despite the fact that there wasn't any truth in it, my soul felt pained, tormented by dancing flames of the purest white; almost the color of Enobaria's hair.

"So which one of you is going to Volunteer, eh?" Julius, my adopted father, interjected sharply, "Back in my District, the Masonry District, it was not uncommon for siblings to fight for the crown. Yet I have no desire for that to happen here as well. Enobaria…Benjamin…One of you is going onto that stage today."

Enobaria smirked, pushing back a strand of choppy blonde hair. It felt gracefully onto her shoulder, without the slightest hint of a curl, and the paleness of it stuck out greatly against the emerald fabric. This would be her first Reaping, the first time that she would experience the terrors of it, the feeling of hopelessness and loss that radiated faithfully around the airy yard. The fog chilling people to the bone, the tears falling quickly as they remembered the loved ones that mounted that stage, and freezing to their faces like icicles in the early days of winter. A lady in red lost in a sea of gray, that's the way that Enobaria would undoubtedly feel as soon as she grew old enough to understand. To reject her roots, hailing truly from District Two, and be able to develop an understanding of the forces of life.

"I think Wolf Boy should Volunteer," Enobaria commented coldly, jamming her silver spoon into the bowl of cereal, "it's about time that he gets some guts."

Scoffing, I try to tune out there banter, reaching deep down inside of myself to a realm all of my own. A place where my spirit can soar, free from these complacent people, and such feelings of contrite. Pensively, I stare into the silver bowl, watching with dull curiosity as a perfect image of me is reflected. Silver hair hangs loosely, able to do whatever it wants, no matter how many times I try and restrict its growth. Cautious and feral, golden eyes stare intently forward, almost hungrily in a strange and sadistic way. No traces of emotion are found on my composure, a blank and limitless mask that is constantly changing, and yet to others, remains that way permanently.

Pieces of the wild truly never leave, it seems.

"Don't call your brother 'Wolf Boy'" Rachel, the sister of District Seven's Mayor and my mother chastised, "A proper lady does not act that way; no exceptions."

"Guess I'm not a proper lady then," Enobaria stated, boredom filling her voice as she spun an apple in her hand, "Rather be alive anyways. All of the nice and neat ones end up dying, you know. My name won't be going down on the books for dying. I'll be in there for winning."

Rachel sighed, but as Enobaria seemed to have lost all interest in the conversation, she conceded a victory to her daughter. That was the way it happened all of the time, becoming a postulate of my world, truth to be told. Rachel would always detest the way that we lived, the way that Julius had been raising her pride and joys to think, and we would always stare blankly at her. Nothing was in her control, leaving the woman filled to the brim with diffidence, pondering what could have been. According to Julius, and Enobaria as well, dreaming was a waste of time, something that could be used for becoming extremely well versed in the ways of mortal combat. To be able to internalize what you are and always will be; a murderer.

Despite the extravagant refineries inside of the house, no warmth or love had been added to it. Like static, the shadows were more welcoming than we were, and any traces of a bond would dissolve in moments. Love is for the weak, a lesson that strangely enough, Julius had not been the one to deliver it to me. That had been the business of the wolves; I had not been raised in civilization as a small child. Abandoned to the woods, all traces of humanity washed away, swept down the river of life; the path had become sealed off for me in a matter of days. I'll never forget the wrought iron fence, looming aggressively ahead; as a woman ran off with tears in her eyes. Voluminous brown hair, I have a feeling that her eyes had not always been gold, that it had been some sort of awful chemical, some sort of test.

Could it have been that she was my mother? Sister? Cousin? Aunt? The questions continued to bounce around my head, creating a din larger than the battle cries of a thousand foes. Lingering ideas echoed, yet from the one blood test I had taken, stealing a golden locket off of Rachel late in the night, one thing had been made clear to me. Chemicals, horrible and illegal, were found present in my bloodstream. Curiously, they hadn't made any threat, only mangling my DNA slightly; perhaps the reason that my hair refused to be cropped, no matter who held the shears. And unfortunately, further research and time proved that while I was in no danger now, it is likely that will not be the case years into the future. Small signs, subtle and tiny, had already cropped up, but I knew that the cold and uncaring softness of death may be my only hope for release.

"Benjamin…," Julius cleared his throat, always using a slight tone of disgust when he said my name; he had desired to call me Brutus, probably another one of the fabled Victors of the Golden Age, "Did you not hear me?"

Wistfully staring out of the window, into the sea of remorse, I replied tonelessly, "Your words had no meaning. I had no cause or reason to listen….Father."

A small smirk crept onto my lips. One of my favorite things had been to tease him slightly, to play the same game that he enjoyed as well. It was to be expected that my behavior would have altered from my previous years, as Enobaria and I had been trained ruthlessly. Some small features would occasionally escape my mask, but just like this time, as soon as the slip had been found it was quickly eliminated. There would be no reason to voice my discontentment with the operations of this various District, the hopes and sorrows of others made no difference to me, only allowing me to stare forward in complacency without the slightest thought of retribution. Julius and Rachel had no idea why they were lucky when they found me, when Jspence lead me out of the woods and into my home, yet the storming clouds above crackled with anger. I knew their secret, and yet I kept my lips firmly sealed; Julius and Rachel were not worthy of such information.

Fury crept into the voice of Julius, causing the alto tone to turn into one of the darkest brass, "Do you dare disrespect me? After all that I've done for you…? I-I…I have no need for son, Brut-Benjamin! Clearly, I should have just waited for Enobaria to come along, instead of taking in a worthless piece of scum such as yourself!"

I would have to wait him out. Angry red blotches sprouted up all over the face, reminding myself of the time that I had hurt Enobaria. Something had come over me, something wild and insane, and resulted in a scar, running down her left arm. Even now, the soft pink flesh of hers revealed it, showing it off as a souvenir, which contrasted greatly with her Reaping dress.

"I should have left you to the wolves! They might have been able to do something with you, teach you how to become feral completely, as it's far too late for your manners!" Julius screamed, standing up with the collar of his shirt sticking up slightly, "You're a outrage in the worst way possible! I…I should have done this a long time ago. Benjamin Clop Romulus, I-"

What he said next shocked me.


Aria Mallows (15), District Seven Female-POV

Bobbing up and down, a girl with brown hair frantically asks questions. Spilling out of her mouth like a tsunami, I already knew the source of the problem. Today would be Erin's first Reaping; the first time that she'll have her name thrown into the selection for the future dead. Of course, if any of us is likely to be picked, it would have to be Regina. Each of us are tiny and compact, appearing to be more like twelve year olds, and perhaps even boys. As Regina, well Reggie, is a good three years older than me, I don't have much hope that I'll ever be taller. Just peachy, eh? I'm already in High School and the teachers still try and send me down to the grade school. Completely brilliant; if only someone else in my family would agree, but they're too busy fawning over Erin and Reggie, as if they don't have three daughters.

Well, in their mind, that must be the exact case. As when I came downstairs this morning, Mom nearly screamed and called the police. Yeah, ain't that just the definition of love? If that's true, it's no wonder that so many people are divorced and so many of them end up in orphanages. It makes almost as much sense as the Hunger Games. You know, killing off innocent kids just because you're grumpy about people rebellion will surely make sure that nothing like that ever happens again.

The world must be full of idiots.

"B-B-But what if the wind blows the slip out of Khihan's hand? What then?" Erin pestered, nervously tapping her hand against her knee.

One two three four…

One two three four…

"Would you mind cutting that out, Erin?" I ask sharply, "Or if that's too hard, I suppose I can go bang my head against a rock instead….Whatever works for you."

Reggie frowned, staring forward at me with a slight annoyance. So it seems that something does get to the overachiever then, besides not earning each precious point on a test. Huffing slightly, I made my message clear; get in my way and regret it, princess. Just about no one was able to boss me around, as last time that I checked, people hadn't figured out a suitable way of hypnosis. All decisions would be made by yours truly until further notice; sorry if that bothers someone, but I really don't care. If anyone has a reason to care, send me a memo, perhaps with some chocolate as well….Mmm….I bloody love chocolate; Aaron learned that fact just in time for my birthday as well.

Erin frowned, pouting ever so slightly as she stared towards me, "But Aria…I need to know!"

"No, you really don't," I scoffed, rolling my hazel eyes, "All you need is air. Water might be nice, and every once in a while, some food may be called for. But if you're telling me that you absolutelyneed to know something that's never ever going to happen, then be my guest. I just won't be the one coming to your funeral, princess. End of story. Kapeesh?"

Tears sprung into Erin's crystal blue eyes. Sheesh, you would have thought that I'd cussed her out. For once, I actually didn't even use one of the swears that I'd picked up from school, even if I had been thinking them. As soon as I start taking French class next year, I'll be sure to cuss them each out each opportunity I get. Shoot me; I wouldn't care at all. Never really did get along well with my sisters, as Erin's a crybaby and Reggie's a major freak. From my experiences so far in life, most people tend to be annoying and have some ultimate task to annoy the heck out of you as much as they possibly can.

Just in case it isn't obvious, I'm not that much of an optimist. That ship sailed when my dog ran away to another District when I was nine years old. Rather stupid story for my parents to have told, as it became apparent as to what really happened when I saw the still carcass being passed around to the highest bidder at the Sap, the black market of District Seven. Of course, Mom and Dad probably would have fainted if they knew that I went there, even if Aaron's family had been running one of the stalls, and we'd been best friends since I was six; go figure.

"Why do you hate me so much?!" Erin screeched, before running inside of the house.

"Nice going, genius," Reggie muttered under her breath before trudging after Erin; her loss, not mine.

"Whatever, Princess," I sneered, before turning on my heel and heading off for the Reaping.

The walk isn't all too long, something that irks me slightly, as I was counting on some time to think. I'm not a people person, so prolonged contact really can get me all riled out, causing incidents to happen all the time. Very reason that I'm going to be dumping, well breaking up, with Aaron; far too clingy for my tastes. Hand holding and stuff like that doesn't really thrill me, instead, it feels like I have to be nice. Which, no offense to the bubbly little kids that are dreaming about stuff like that, doesn't really make for an adventure. If I'm going to be entertained, then someone is going to have to accept that I'm not going to put up with them being prissy all day long; sorry, but that's just the way I roll. If it bothers you, well, you're just going to have to deal with it; life's not fair anyways, so I don't intend to make it that way.

"Give me your arm," an irritated Capitol person stated as I approached the start of the line.

"You say that to all the ladies, don't ya pal?" I muttered, reluctantly complying to avoid being arrested.

Yeah, it would be awkward to have to call my parents to bail me out of jail. Considering that I don't actually talk to them, hug them, or even know their first names. It would be like calling some random stranger and demanding that they hand over a large chunk of cash; that just sounds crazy when thinking about it. But as the man waved me through, a little more exasperated than when I left him, I caught a brown haired girl staring at me with a twinkle of amusement. Cypress Junos; the lucky one who somehow managed to beat up a bunch of idiotic Careers during her Hunger Games. Hopefully I'd never be in the Hunger Games, as I doubt that I would be able to shut my mouth during the arena; I'm a rather judgmental person, on everyone but myself of course.

Eventually, the Escort mounted the stage and got everything going. Reggie and Erin must have been around somewhere, but quite frankly, I just couldn't find the energy to look for them. Or maybe it might have been the fact that I didn't really like my sisters; take your pick. Anyways, Erin must have stopped crying, or at least she will as Khihan yammered on and on, through the video as well. It wasn't quite as horrifying when the Escort was telling you all about how last summer he got kidnapped by the Gremlin family maid and wasn't allowed to leave until he pet her dog. And these are the type of people in charge of the world? Worst idea that I've ever heard of, quite frankly, and I've heard a lot of stupid things. More than my fair share, if I do say so myself.

"Horrible things, I know!" Khihan exclaimed, smoothing down the creases of his dress, "Now, I know that I tend to blabber a bit, so without further ado…the lady that will represent District Seven unless someone Volunteers…the one that will have the pride-"

"GET ON WITH IT!" someone bellowed from the crowd, in which a couple people giggled from nervousness.

"Yes, quite right…and this year's Tribute is…Aria Mallows!" Khihan announced, pushing back a strand of long red hair to peer out into the crowd, "Come along now, don't be shy!"

What? Come again? This must be some sort of crazy dream, right? It's the idiots that get Reaped, not me. In fact, Reggie would probably Volunteer right now, just to show me up and prove that I'm worth nothing. She probably rigged it this way too, bribing Khihan before the…no, she couldn't have done that; we shared a room and I would have noticed if she snuck out. There's no way that I'm letting her meet boys until she's left the nest; I don't have time to deal with a whining pregnant lady. But as no one stepped forward, I plastered a smirk on my face and walked forward. Things just got real, and from what I've seen, the ones that die usually end up on the Bloodbath list; my reaction to this is hopefully going to keep me off of it and into the lovely land of sponsorship. Sucks to be the other Tribute though, as I guarantee that he's going to have a hard time looking nearly as put together as I do, beaming out determinedly as the crowd on the stage, next to the cross-dressing abomination that just happens to be our Escort.

"Lovely girl! I'm sure that you'll last longer than the last one, Juliet I believe, did!" Khihan chattered earnestly, not even realizing that he messed up on the name, "And for the young man to accompany Miss Mallows….it will be none other than…"

"I Volunteer," a boy calls out calmly, as if he was merely telling the teacher that he'd prefer to do his homework after school instead of after dinner.

A quick glance causes me to only burst out laughing; it's Wolf Boy.