Dawnette "Cyrena" Floryn, 14 (D4F)

5:30 in the morning is probably too early to wake up on a day as important as this. But I couldn't help myself. I just had to watch a replay of the 106th Hunger Games one last time before I go to the Capitol, featuring my favorite Victor. Sirena O'Hara.

Everything about that woman is so admirable. From her gorgeous red locks to her down-to-earth charm, she's the perfect Victor and the perfect Mentor. We just had a Victor last year, but everyone has already forgotten about him. Not me. I'll be remembered for decades.

"Dawnette! Turn down the TV!" my younger sister Shelby shouts from across the hall. I fetch the remote hidden in my fluffy bed sheets and adjust the volume to which the screams of the bloodbath are slightly less audible but should not be heard from outside my room. I've woken my little sister countless times to the sound of a twelve-year old being decapitated.

Now Sirena is wading through the turquoise waters of the tropical island arena she was placed in. Two Careers trail her, looking for their next victims. Out of nowhere, a tropical-looking bird bursts from the trees and starts ruthlessly pecking at Sirena's pack. But I've watched this enough times to know that this doesn't stop her. Although for some strange reason, the bird scares me every time. Sirena makes quick work of the bird, slicing through its chest and grounding the dying animal. As it lay on the sand, twitching, she stomps on it to put it out of its misery.

"Boom," I imitate, fast-forwarding through the boring parts of the Games mainly focusing on the outliers. They don't matter. They're all dead now.

Finally I get to the finale, where a bloody Sirena glares at the only competitor left, a small, demure 14 year old girl from 9. The fight takes mere seconds as swift Sirena buries her sword into the girl's chest, causing her to gasp involuntarily but quickly slump to the ground, dead.

BOOM!

"Sirena O'Hara, you are the Victor of the 106th Hunger Games!" Aurelia announces into the arena. My screen clicks off, earning a groan from me, but clicks back on seconds later to reveal static. Blackouts are usually common around Reaping time because the Capitol is using all our power for the ceremony. I shut the television back off and glance at my clock, which now says 6:35. I have time to sleep in until the Reaping.

...

Hours later, or at least what I believe to be hours, I groggily open my eyes to see the poster of Sirena hanging on the ceiling right above my bed. Her sea foam green eyes are always the first thing I see in the morning, and that's the way I like it.

It's 11:12 now, so I have a little less than an hour to prepare. I probably should not have slept through my last morning at home before I leave, but I need my beauty sleep. Usually my older sister, Anna, is awake by now, but she seems extra sleepy this morning. That's perfect, because I need to take something I've been meaning to take from her room for a long time.

I creak open the door, and I find Anna sprawled out on her bed, the same bed my late parents used to share. In her closet is something shimmering, the very thing I'm after. A replica dress worn by Sirena O'Hara during her Victory Tour. I tiptoe silently across the hardwood floors, not daring to even breathe. If I'm going to do this I need to steal the dress and immediately leave the house before Anna notices. I wouldn't need to swipe it at all if she wasn't so unwilling to share. I know she bought it with her own money, but she knows I'm a bigger fan of Sirena than her. Maybe she bought it to mock me.

Soon I'm at the closet door, carefully taking the dress and hanger off the rack. Once the beautiful icy blue dress is in my hands, I'm dashing for my bedroom to slide it on me. Once I finally manage to get the entire frock on me, I tidy up the makeup I put on before I started watching Sirena's tape. My reddish hair is curled up like hers with a special Capitol cream I may have borrowed from the market. Green eyes hadow is applied to distract from the fact that my eyes are brown, not green like hers. Besides from that, I'm like a mini version of Sirena. Just the look I was going for.

I jump in fear as I hear Anna's door open, and soon I'm hiding in my bedroom, praying that she distracts herself with something, anything, so I can leave. But my fears some true as she wiggles the doorknob of my bedroom until it opens, revealing a tired-looking Anna with Shelby next to her. Anna's eyes shoot open as she sees me, her sister, in her prized Sirena dress. Meanwhile, Shelby is trying to hold back laughter.

"Why are you wearing my dress?!" Anna demands, stepping closer and closer to me.

"i just... I... um," I stutter, at a loss for words. Now I'm getting worried. My own sister might kill me and I haven't even had a chance to volunteer! Almost not thinking, I dive out of my open window, landing into a small pond outside my window. I'm waist deep into the water, but luckily my hair and makeup wasn't ruined by the splash. I frantically slosh through the water until I reach land, which happens to be by the porch of our house. As I'm running away in the blazing heat, I ca hear Anna open the door. I look back to see her momentarily consider chasing after to me but I'm too far gone at this point. I'm a quickster, just like Sirena.

The summer sun dries me off quicker than I thought, I can see my skirt turning a lighter and lighter shade of blue after being soaking wet just a few minutes ago. I'm far from home by now but I keep running until the square is in sight. Very few people are here, some of them chatting with their friends. I've only had one friend in my life, and she died of malaria when we were ten. There isn't much reason to think of her anymore, because she was weak. She succumbed to a common illness. I'm going to walk into an arena with twenty-three other children and walk out unscathed when I turn 18. Sirena left the arena with only a bruised face. Normally I like to be like her in every way, but I would prefer for my face to still be pretty when the cameras are focusing on me after I win.

As the Academy students file into the square, I grin at them as they stiffly, with unhappy looks on their faces. Ever since the crazy Victor came home last year, none of the girls wanted to be Mentored by him or even be in the same room as him after he was cleared from the asylum to do Mentoring. He's a rather popular and mysterious figure in the Capitol, given how unaware they are of the true situation.

The heat drains most of my energy, causing my head to slump. I might have even fallen asleep. Is it possible to sleep standing up? I'm no horse but I think that's exactly what I did, given the next words my ears pick up.

"...in your favor!" says a muffled voice onstage.

Our escort, Louise, just did her introduction. So I did sleep. In the four years I've had to attend Reapings it feels like the exact same affair every time. She dances over to the bowl and digs for a name. I'm almost tempted to volunteer myself but I can't now. Sirena was 18 when she won and that's how old I'll be when I win. Like I said, I want to be like her in any way I can.

"Dawnette Floryn!" Louise cries into the microphone. I freeze in my spot. No, no no. This can't be happening. I'm only a few seconds in my journey and I'm already not like her in one aspect. She didn't get Reaped before she volunteered.

I make my way up to the stage, deflated. Someone will volunteer for me momentarily, which is good, because I want to run off this stage and cry my eyes out in my room. I let her down. I let my hero down.

"Any volunteers for Miss Dawnette?" Anna asks, addressing the crowd. I start sniffling, staring at my shoes. But my stomach starts to drop as all I hear are murmurs but no one volunteering. Maybe they're just preparing to make a grand entrance.

But ten more seconds pass, and it starts to become clear to me that I am this years female tribute. Why is no one volunteering? There's always a volunteer. The crowd gasps as they focus on something that seems to be behind me, given the way they are trying to peek at something my body is blocking. I turn my head around to see the Crazy Victor on the ground, strangling a Peacekeeper, who is wheezing and trying to catch his breath under the young man's large hands. I close my eyes, realizing the reason I'm standing here.

"O-okay!" Louise says, off-put. "It looks like our female tribute for the 112th Hunger Games is Dawnette Floryn!" Before the Capitolite makes her way to choose the boy, I grab her pale, porcelain-like hand.

"B-by the way," I tell her, my voice trembling. "My name i-is Cyrena."


Troy Jackson, 17 (D4F)

There's something soothing about watching the fishing boats sail out to go find our daily catch. Regrettably I can't go out there myself, as Father says it's too "risky" for someone like me, but isn't that a bit hypocritical considering he's twice my age and more fragile than me? Maybe he doesn't want his precious son who just so happens to be this year's volunteer to get hurt before the Games. I guess it makes sense, but if the arena is an ocean, he's getting some complaints when I return.

The reason my family owns so many boats is because my dad owns a giant, family owned fishing company. It's one of the most productive sources of fish in the district, which I guess is what makes it important. We have a lot of employees, so many that I'm only able to remember some of their names. I've given nicknames to those whose actual names remain a mystery to me, and who I'm too shy to awkwardly ask. It looks like the boat of Adeline, Jay, and Grizzly is leaving. Their ship specifically catches shrimp.

As the sun begins to set, I rise from my sitting form and stretch, taking in the bright array of colors painted across the horizon. Once the last of the ships depart to go work their nighttime shifts, I turn on my heel to grab the load of fish destined to the Capitol, planning on taking them somewhere else.

The litter of cats just born could be heard from miles away. They yelp helplessly nearly all night. Are they unable to sleep, or are they having a noise-making contest? At any rate, when I reach their home, an old cardboard box nestled in between two fishing crates, I drop two fish from the bag and near the kittens' feet. The mother must be out finding food, but she'll be pleasantly surprised when she comes back. The gray cats hungrily devour the raw salmon, fighting over who gets the best parts of it. The runt of the litter, a small and weak cat I've nicknamed Fisher, nibbles at the tail, having given up challenging his brothers for a more filling section of the fish. Feeling almost guilty, I retrieve a small minnow for Fisher, who leaps up and snatches the tiny fish from my hand. I'm lucky the doesn't have all his teeth yet.

I feel almost obligated to feed these cats I found just a few weeks earlier, because they seem to be the only cats in the district. Dogs are somewhat common as pets, but since we're so far away from District 10, where they're bred as Capitol pets, I have no clue how they traveled here. Perhaps someone from before the Dark Days had cats and they just managed to survive a few generations.

Not too far away from the cats is the district slum, where the most unfortunate live. We may be one of the wealthiest districts but even we have a poor population. Since everyone's probably asleep by now, I sneak the giant bag of fish behind the dumpster, where Peacekeepers won't find it but people who go there to find their food will. My heart is pounding unusually fast now, so I just turn on my heel and leave before someone can notice me.

When I reach my large house, a "mansion" as some pompous people would say, I slowly open the front door, revealing my dark, eerily large front hallway. Fake potted plants string the entrance, making you feel almost uneasy. Already spooked, I make a beeline to the staircase, almost slipping and falling on the hardwood floor. I start to tiptoe as I reach the upstairs hallway. My parent's room is open, so I have to be very quiet. Unfortunately for me, they're light sleepers, and when the ground creaks under me, I hear them jolt awake.

"What's that? Who's there?" my dad asks, obviously half-asleep. I swing my room door open and silently shut it, leaping into my bed as if I were there this entire time.

"Troy?" I can hear my mom saying through the door, and my head begins to spin as he seems to walk to my room, his footsteps getting closer and closer. The door cracks open, but I can't see his face, since mine is hidden under the covers.

"Oh, you're just asleep." Dad close my door and walks away, mumbling something that sounded like "never mind". I slip into slumber quicker than I thought, because soon my eyes are fluttering open as bright light invades my vision. I excitedly look at the calendar. Officially one week until the Reaping. I hear a knock, but before I have a chance to say something, the door just opens.

"Good morning, Troy. Can I see you in the kitchen in around five minutes?" he asks, holding a mug of coffee.

"Oh, sure, Father," I reply, ruffling my hair and rising from bed. I'm a little worried he somehow knew what happened last night, but I'm good at coming up with excuses. But I won't bring it up unless he does.

I rush down into our shiny, white kitchen, wearing a bathrobe rather than being presented to my father in just a t-shirt and shorts. He sits at the table with his hands folded, staring into the window, which displays a rather pleasing view of the ocean.

"Sit, son." Dad says curtly, pointing to the chair in front of me. Concealing my discomfort, I sit down and join him in looking at the wavy sea.

"Listen, Troy. There's... something I needed to talk to you about." he tells me, leaning into my face a little too much. So he does know. Before I can explain why I stole an entire bag of fish, he continues.

"I know that you're leaving soon, which is why I thought it was a good time to tell you now. You're almost eighteen years old, and I think you're ready for a big responsibility." I give him a sideways look as I hear the word "responsibility". Don't I have enough responsibility? I'm going to be in the Hunger Games soon, I have an enormous amount of pressure on me. I know I ca handle it but it slightly upsets me that it seems more is being piled on.

"What do you mean?" I ask nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. My dad takes a deep, deep breath, before unloading on me.

"I'm going to give you our fish company when you return from the arena."

"What?! No!" I bark out, but immediately clamp my hands over my mouth. I soon realize that was a mistake, because even if I don't like something my dad says, I've learned to just keep it to myself. But it was foolish of me to speak out like that.

"No? Why do you say that? Are you too spoiled to realize how big of a company you are going to receive? This will make our name known!" Dad yells at me, banging his fist on the table. "After you win the Hunger Games, you'll not only be a Victor and have that wealth, but you'll also have the money coming in from the company. You'll be rich beyond your wildest dreams." He crosses his arms, eyeing me like I was rotting fish, as if he's expecting a response.

"Okay," is all I manage to say, trying to come up with pros to inheriting a gigantic fishing company, one of the biggest in the district. I guess a pro would be that it would give me a lot of money, but like Dad said, the Capitol will provide me an allowance after I win. So, why now?

"Why now?" I echo from my head, testing my luck in asking something that questions his authority.

"Because I don't want you, my only son, to grow up to be a lazy snob. You'll be a Victor but you'll also have work to do for the District. It's for the best, son. Plus," he continues, tugging at his tight collar uneasily, "I'm not going to be here forever to run the business. I just want to make sure you're plenty prepared." I consider arguing with my dad, but I'm still in shock. Instead I just nod my head in defeat, desperately trying to gather my thoughts so I can come up with a statement, but silence is all I can muster as I open and close my mouth over and over again like a fish.

"I'm glad you're taking it so well, Troy. You should probably head to the Academy to say goodbye to some of your trainers," Dad begins, but coughs mid-sentence and gives me a apologetic look. "well, say goodbye until you, um, get back home." He rises from the table, wordlessly exiting the room and leaving me at the table, worried and confused. First of all, my number one priority right now is the Games. I'm leaving in seven days, and from that point forward, my focus is on my survival. But sadly for Dad, although he's talking like I'll come back, there is no guarantee that I will. The Careers that are prepared to volunteer probably want to go home more than I do right now.


What? Maia is still alive? Yes, I am. I am so so so so sorry it's been nearly a month and a half. My computer just got back from being repaired. Luckily, it works like a dream now. Anyways, regarding this chapter, how did you like our 4 duo? Predictions about their placements and how they'll fare in this year's Career pack? Please review! :) I love hearing your thoughts! Next is District 5, see you then!

-Maia