Sage Smith, 13. District 7

"Sage! Get yourself in here now!"

I dash out of my bedroom and run as quickly as I can to the living room, jumping over shards of broken porcelain and spare liquor bottles. My mother, with her raging green eyes and the familiar belt in her right hand, glares at me menacingly. However, knowing that punishment is unavoidable, I try to lighten the situation a bit. "Yes, Mother?" I ask, trying not to show fear or give any implications of disrespect.

She points at my father, who is drunkenly passed out on the floor. "This!" she hisses. "This is unacceptable. Your father had a hard day at work yesterday, he comes home full of liquor, and he passes out. And you do nothing to make him any more comfortable than he deserves to be!" She advances on me, snapping the belt like a whip. It might as well be, for all that it's used for.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, trying to back out of the room.

"Sorry doesn't cut it!" my mother screams. She smacks the belt towards me, and I grit my teeth against the stabbing pain in my cheek as the metal buckle digs into and slashes my cheek. I turn and run from the house, yanking the front door open and dashing from it like the house is on fire. "And don't come back!" she screams from behind me. "Never come back!"

I run from the pain.

I run from the suffering that has plagued my family since my older brother was brutally killed in the Games last year.

That's all I can do.

Run.


James Wood, 17. District 7

I trot into the square with my little brother Joseph in my arms and my best friend Brandon loping along beside me. We're the first ones there, and there's a group of white-clad Peacekeepers erecting a platform made from polished pine wood.

"They're going to send people off to the Capitol to play games now, right, James?" Joseph asks in that high, young 8-year-old voice. "They're going to put their names in the big raffle bowl to get picked, right? Right?"

I ruffle his hair, sharing an amused glance with Brandon at my baby brother's innocence. I run a hand wearily through my messy brown hair, trying to straighten it as I put Joseph down and smile at him. "Yeah, little dude. They're going to play the games."

The rest of District 7 is filing into the main square, filling the area with the scent of pine needles and throwing sawdust into the air. I look down self-consciously, aware of the fact that I'm one of the only people who actually bothered to wear a nice button-down and some khakis. "Awkward, Brandon," I mutter, seeing our friends Tina and Jaden walking up to us in their work overalls. Jaden won the Hunger Games two years ago, due to his expertise in how to carve deadly weapons in the wintry forest arena of that year.

Tina looks at me with a barely hidden grin. "Nice outfit."

"Thank you," I shoot back with a cocky grin.

"DISTRICT 7!"

Nearly everybody in the square winces and covers their ears at the sound of the already booming voice being amplified. We all look up to the wooden platform in front of the varnished Justice Building and see our two twin escorts, Rew and Rey Bur, standing and simultaneously yelling into microphones.

"District 7," Rey begins, waving a ring-clad hand majestically, "We are gathered here-"

"To reap two of the luckiest people of District 7!" Rew interrupts his sister. "They will move on-"

"And will compete in the 32nd annual Hunger Games!"

"Let's begin!" they chime in perfect unison.


Sage Smith, 13. District 7

My best and only friend, Joel Crumbly, isn't paying attention.

He is inspecting the oozing gash on my cheek, trying to wipe it up with the fabric of his overalls. "You should just come live with me," he grumbles. "Your parents are out of control. Your dad's a drunk, and your mother is a-"

"I know, an abusive psychopath." I glare at him, trying to dispel any of the thoughts that he's been expressing since before my brother died in the games. "It doesn't matter now."

Joel rolls his eyes. "Come on," he snorts. "Are you really thinking that way? What are the chances of you actually being-"

"SAGE SMITH!"

His dark brown eyes widen in fear. I look up at the platform in terror, hoping that I've heard the twin voices wrong. "What?" I whisper, and somehow my voice carries to the ears of Rew and Rey.

"Come on up, Sage!" Rey beckons, waving a manicured finger in my direction. "We don't have all day!"

I stagger away from Joel's arms and walk numbly down the wide, Peacekeeper-lined aisle. I feel the eyes on me; hear the whisperings. It only makes it worse. I feel the tears rising up in my throat and spilling over past my eyelids, stinging my eyes with their saltiness.

I am sobbing and choking on my gasping breaths by the time I reach the top of the platform. I can hear the disapproving murmurs of the rest of the district. Crying makes me a target. But I let the tears fall, let them bare themselves for all of Panem to see and feel for themselves.

Rew grabs my hand and, trying to reignite the enthusiasm that was barely there in the first place, calls, "Sage Smith, everybody!"

The clapping is meager at best.


James Wood, 17. District 7

I watch Sage stumble off to the side of the stag and feel a pang of sympathy. I've heard of her and her parents, and I recognize her from the reapings last year, when she said goodbye to her reaped brother. This can only be making it worse.

"Why is she crying?" Joseph asks, tugging on the bottom of my gray button-down. "She should be happy about going to play games!"

"Don't worry, buddy," I tell him, ruffling his short brown-blond hair. "She's just crying with happiness."

"Oh." He goes back to chattering with Tina, who is bending down to his level and laughing when he laughs and just overall being the awesome best friend that I know.

Rew approaches the microphone once more, holding a card that I don't remember him retrieving. "Here we are, District 7!" he announces, opening the card dramatically. "Your District 7 male tribute is...James Wood!"

I jerk my head up so quickly my head spins. This can't be me, it can't be! Tina, Jaden, and Brandon have their jaws dropped and their eyes scream at me to stay. Tina picks up Joseph and holds him close. I stand there so long that the Peacekeepers begin to advance on me, but I shrug them off and mount the stage. The bright sun beats down on me, blinding me and making me squint against the glare. I walk past Sage and join Rey and Rew, trying to hide the fact that I am worried about my family.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." Rew begins.

Rey picks up, "Your District 7 tributes, Sage Smith and James Wood!"

The crowd applauds, but I do not hear.

I can only hear the cries of my brother.

"Tina, why does James look so sad?"


Sage Smith, 13. District 7

I am sitting on the train next to James, but I ignore his concerned stares. I just curl up in the comfortable, soft warmth of the swaying chair and sob, twisting the gold and silver promise ring from Joel in my fingers. He'd been the only one to visit me before I left.

He'd given me a chaste kiss on the lips and whispered, "It's a promise that you won't forget me in that arena. Don't forget me, Sage."

"Never," I'd replied.


James Wood, 17. District 7

I run my fingers over the worn, freshly carved cedar surface of my token. It's a gift from my father; a beautifully and magnificently carved timber wolf , my favorite animal.

"For luck," my father had reminded me. "This animal is your strength, James."

I'd nodded and said my goodbyes. But Joseph never came to say goodbye. My mother said that she'd told him the truth of the Games.

That was what broke me.

I begin to cry too, now.

Sage's sobs echo mine.