Tesu Sumach, 17, District 8

"Where are the exams?" Synthra said, her voice tired and impatient.

Tesu hurried over to the cupboard where he'd put the papers the same morning and handed them to the teacher's outstretched hand.

"Here, Miss."

"Can I go to the toilet?" One of the seven year olds said. Big round cheeks, whiny voice, Tesu had no clue who he was. But then, the young relief teacher never had the time to learn the children's names.

"Accompany him, Tesu. All the rest settle down and sharpen your pencils."

The thirty-nine students began rummaging in their pencil-cases, disciplined like they never would be with him. Why would they? He was only there for four days, helping out Synthra who managed both them and another class while one of her colleagues recovered from a bad flu.

Tesu lead the kid to the bathroom. He saw the glint in the little boy's eyes as they neared the urinals. He repressed a sight. The boy's aim was off by a mile and Tesu had to wash behind him. The other teachers would have made the cheeky brat do it, but Tesu remembered how he had been at that age, believing he could do anything, believing he was not helpless and would have a good life. Better times. The little boy would be punished for his silly prank a hundredfold in adulthood.

"Sorry," the seven year old said with a cute impish grin as Tesu finished drying his hands. The boy stuck out his little hand for the teenager to hold while walking back. Tesu grasped it.

"I didn't wash them," the boy whispered as they reached the classroom.

Liar, Tesu had seen the little devil do it. "Neither did I," he lied.

The boy made gagging noises."Eww!"

"Mylar! Hurry up!" Synthra said.

Mylar sprinted to his seat; growing very focused as he began sharpening his coloring pencils.

"I can go supervise the other class," Tesu volunteered. He knew the introductory movie to sewing techniques would not keep them occupied much longer. Synthra could use taking a seat.

"Yeah, you do that," the other replied, waving him off.

Thanks would have been nice. Tesu hated his job. He never saw the good sides of it. The smiles of children when they got to trust you, the satisfaction of seeing them learn, of watching them change. He was the gap filler, the nobody. Unfortunately it was the only job he could hope to have. He had no skill for graphic design and no experience to manage a warehouse. Tesu was allergic to the chemicals used to treat the clothes. Allergic to their touch and allergic to the vapors that permeated even the weavers' sections of the factories. He cursed fate every morning for having being born in Eight.


Tesu crawled along to the railway. The strong air currents in the tunnels chilled him to the bones. He'd discovered the place when he'd run away from home at thirteen. He'd thought he'd die in the dark, thirsty and lost. Instead he'd stumbled upon the old railway. It was still used to wheel rock pigments between different parts of the district, but the trains were old. The wind infiltrated through the cracks in the metal seals and blew colorful dust to the ground. Those colors were expensive, expensive enough that Tesu would spend his free evenings there, scraping up the powders in different handkerchiefs to sell to Kilim later. Tesu had learned to love the darkness. The tunnels were the only place the air smelt fresh. The rain fell black in the city streets, the few brave tuffs of grass grew sickly and gray.

When Tesu had finished for the night, he headed towards The Masquerade shop. Kilim made the dyes and cut the fabrics while his sisters sewed and folded the costumes to be sent by truck to the Capitol. Tesu hoped his friend had made some profit this week. If Kilim had no money, Tesu would be sleeping outside again with no hope of a meal before the next night.

"Tesu! Come on in," Kilim said with a grin. "Look at this," he said, twirling his midnight blue silk cape around.

"You look like a dandyish vampire. Canceled order?"

"Better, much better"-the blonde elegantly spun on his heels for effect -"It's an old piece a theater has no use for, they sent back a whole cargo asking for 50% of the gross sale profits we'll make by selling them second-hand. We should make an extra two-months profit with it."

Kilim and Tesu had played for hours as little kids between the sumptuous racks of the Masquerade, spinning wild stories as they discovered new costumes or staging the script excerpts from plays that Capitol customers would send to help the designers have a better idea of what they were asked to do. Tesu missed the wild dreams they'd shared then.

"Does that mean I can rip you off and not feel bad about it?" Tesu asked with a tentative smile.

Kilim seemed to consider it as they headed towards the storage room for dyes. He stopped and poked Tesu's ribs sharply.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"I'm definitely fatter than you are. You're right, keep this."

Tesu gaped as Kilim threw him a purse. There was ten times what he usually got in Kilim's hand. Almost as much as Tesu made in a week's teaching. He might even get good vitamins for Spindle with that. He was eternally grateful that Kilim didn't mind him begging.

"Brilliant, Kilim, I won't forget."


Spindle looked so breakable on her chair, her little fingers dancing across the loom. She was gifted, her looms fetched enough to provide for most of the food that came in the household. It wasn't much but it helped, a lot. And Tesu cursed her gift every day. Had his sister been more common, she'd be working at the factories by now, making less but out of Raffia's sight, away from her hands and evil words. With her pallid skin and brittle frame, Spindle looked closer to ten than her actual fourteen.

Their father would not return before eleven pm, squandering money to eat out rather than return home and face his wife. Coward.

"Hi Arachnea, how was your day?" Tesu said, stroking her head gently.

"Quiet," the girl replied with a small smile, blushing slightly at the nickname, like every other time.

"Great, now gulp these down before she sees."

It was always 'she' or 'Raffia'. He hadn't called her Mother in a long time, no matter how much the woman made him pay for it when she overheard.

Spindle swallowed the two pills. "What are they?"

"Iron and magnesium. I got lucky today," he said, wearing a pleased smile.

She smiled back, grasping his hand. Her eyes soon darted back to the half-automatized loom. "I need to finish this by tonight," she said.

Tesu gritted his teeth. He could run at full speed in hazardous pitch black tunnels without getting a scratch but keeping his sister safe? He struggled to bring in money but he wondered if he wasn't wasting his energy on unimportant stuff, it did Spindle no good.

"Tesu, don't," she whispered, her eyes sad.

"I'm never going to pretend this is right, little spider, moping does no good but accepting it would make her truly win." He clasped her shoulders "Her words are poison. You are beautiful, gifted and important. She'll be out of our lives soon enough."

"I still need to finish this," Spindle said, but there was tightness to her lips that Tesu liked.


Georgette « Georgie » Calico, 14, District 8.

Georgie's ruby lips were pursed in anger.

She stood at the entrance of the Siren, the big, and only, pub and dance house in the city. Georgie found the name apt, but was thinking more emergency sirens than the singing fish-ladies. Music was going through a bad period.

But it wasn't the music that ticked her off. No, it was Lacie. Green-eyed, statuesque Lacie who was swishing her long blond hair in her naive, 'I can't get that I'm the prettiest girl in a place full of horny guys and I'll soon be the center of the attention.' way. Lacie, that made the ginger skinnier girl feel inadequate despite the compliments she occasionally received on her harmonious face and soulful dark blue eyes. Gentle, shy Lacie who was too kind to refuse a cocktail glass. Lacie, who got so childish when she was tipsy.

"Lacie," Georgie said sternly as she reached her best friend's side.

"Georgie! This is Alcian, he's sooo nice," she said with a radiant smile. "This is Georgie, my very best friend."

"And chastity belt, find yourself another prey." Georgie snapped at the man. He had to be thirty, that was over twice their age, it was sick.

"Georgie, don't be like that. We're just friends. He just wants to know about school!"

"See," Georgie said, flashing the now put out Alcian a tight grin. "Shoo."

"You're late," Lacie huffed after a pause.

"You're a shameless tease who doesn't even realize it. Come, let's go wait for Fuller outside."

She dragged the blonde out of the pub, noticing how heads swiveled towards Lacie as they passed. Lacie was quite happy to follow her. Georgie couldn't remember a single time where she'd lost an argument to that girl, and that was why her best friend needed her protection: Lacie just couldn't survive on her own. Fuller now was something else. He had to fight about everything, even if he was doomed to lose. Such a boy, but Georgie loved him for it.

When Fuller appeared, with his black hair as tangled as freshly sheered-wool and his big brown eyes sparkling with mischief, Georgie let out a sigh of happiness. Work day was over, she could start having fun. She stifled a yawn, wondering why the days seemed longer and longer as time passed.

"Hello, pretty birds, why aren't you inside?" Fuller said, impatient to go in.

"Lacie was chatting up a guy."

"Was not," Lacie muttered, blushing furiously. Georgie sighed, the flush to her cheeks made the other girl even more comely. It was so unfair. A good thing Lacie was so nice.

"So? This is the Siren, the whole point is to get free drinks and to share them with me!"

"That's what we are to you, free drink tickets?" Georgie said, her eyes narrowing in outrage.

"No!" Fuller said with a groan, "I hang around you at school and there's no alcohol there, Genius."

"But you wouldn't hang out with us at night otherwise?"

"It's not just that!"

"But that's what's important though, free drinks!" Georgie snapped. He could at least have asked how her day had been.

Lacie sighed.

The two snapped their heads towards her. "Don't sigh at us," they both said.

Georgie winked at Lacie as she crossed her arms. She and Fuller were always bickering, they couldn't help it.

"So, what's the drink of the week? I've just got enough for a glass," Fuller said with a big smile.


Georgie walked back from school hand in hand with eight-year-old Batiste on the narrow street.

Georgie noticed he had a thin book in his other hand. "You've begun reading that today, in class?"

The boy nodded eagerly beneath his mop of brown curls.

Georgie's face broke into a smile. "You liked it?"

Batiste bobbed his head again. He already was a man of few words.

The building they lived in was ugly and gray, but their small apartment was pristine. There was not a cleaner building in Eight. Georgie smiled at the sound of Satin's ebullient laughter. The open door revealed the squealing three-year old, her adorable face all scrunched up. Dimity Calico smiled warmly at her two older children as they all but threw their bags on the couch.

"I caught a prince today," Satin said proudly, bouncing up to them.

Georgie raised her eyebrows at the littlest one's trademark cheeky smile.

"Oh no…" Batiste moaned.

Satin giggled. "I even kissed it!"

She was laughing so hard she'd fallen on all fours, her whole body shaking.

Georgie was suddenly suspicious. "Mom let you bring a frog in this house? You spoiled little thing!"

Cheeky grin firmly back in place. Satin bounced up to her bed and took a pot from under it.

"I want a transfusion or something," Batiste whispered to Georgie. "It's not fair that she gets all the energy. I'm tired from just looking at her."

Georgie gave him a one armed hug. "You're perfect the way you are."

Batiste didn't smile, he rarely did, but his cheeks dimpled and the look he gave his sister was one of passionate worship. Georgie felt her insides glow.

"Maybe it's a princess, you kiss it Batiste!" Satin said, shoving the pot as close to his nose as she could reach. She then dissolved into laughter again.

"Leave Batiste alone. He's got a book to finish, it's very important, and if the frog changes to a princess she'll be very unhappy if he doesn't have time to take care of her," Georgie said, grinning at her sister.

Satin nodded before giggling again and shaking her head furiously, making her chocolate locks bounce around her face.

"Frog is a boy! I told you so!"

"Then he can't be a princess," Georgie pointed out, letting Batiste escape to his room.

"Yes! 'Cause if Batiste kiss him, he'll be in a dress."

"kissed," their mother absently corrected.

Satin didn't hear, she was already howling with laughter again.

"When must you go today?" Dimity asked her eldest daughter.

Georgie fixed her shoulder length ginger curls up with a big hair clip. "In half an hour. I'll wash up later tonight. I hope Fall will come soon, this heat is unbearable."

Georgie worked as a seamstress after school. She was the main source of income of the family because no matter how great as house holding and raising her children Dimity was, the woman was too fragile to do more than housechores for others, and the pay was miserable. Dimity had tried to go back to the factories but she always got sick, it wasn't fair. Caddis had left her knowing that, and Georgie hated him so much.

Caddis Lowell. They'd all been Lowells too once, living in a larger apartment in a nicer part of the city. Until he'd grown bored of them. Bored. And then he'd become a stranger, as if he hadn't been her father for the first twelve years of Geprgie's life. The fourteen-year-old could've forgiven the man for what he'd done to her. She'd had to grow up damn fast and damn hungry to boot, feeding four mouths while fighting to stay at school until sixteen, not wanting to work the factories until she was old and shriveled up, but she could handle it. What she could never forgive was him shattering her mother's self-confidence. She also hated him with a passion for what he'd done to Batiste. His dad had been his hero before Georgie had filled that role, and his hero had walked out the door forever, without them even suspecting he was leaving for good. She'd learned that day that kind promises from men were worth nothing, even when said with earnest faces. They were all selfish.

Georgie was late when she left the house. It seemed she was always late these days. Her skinny legs broke into a run. She arrived precisely on time.

"No one under twelve will be given a job here, girl" the man guarding the door said

Georgie raised her eyes to his, a murderous scowl on her face.

The man blinked. "My mistake, young lady. You're a mighty small thing. You work here?"

"I've been working here longer than you obviously, now move, Sir," The ginger snarled. She hated to be reminded how child-like she looked. She had the head of an eighteen year old screwed on the body of a tween, and it frustrated her to no end.

"Manners, girl," the man said, but he let her in.

Georgie could have cared less about his opinion as she headed towards her sewing machine.


Tesu Sumach, 17, District 8

Reaping day was special; people's eyes met and they shared something. Whether it be hope, fear or understanding. They did their own business all year long but that day, and for all the Games, they were District Eight. People met their future friends more often than not during the feasts and in the large halls where everyone had to watch the Games. It was a time when people talked to each other.

Ambrose Dovey was in full charm mode during his "may the odds ever be with you" routine. There was something troubling in the escort's eyes, as if he liked to read the names out knowing exactly what lay in store for them.

"And the odds have pointed to Aureus Florin!"

Tesu let out a breath he didn't know he'd been was holding. He knew the eighteen-year old by sight and reputation. Tall and fat, tough enough people didn't cross him, and proud. The pride of the lone rich. His sister had to be Eight's most beautiful woman. Tesu felt sorry for him. Aureus had had everything to be happy; life sucked.

Aureus stopped before the platform and turned to face the crowd, his face grave.

"I'll take care of your family as I would of my own if you volunteer."

Tesu inhaled sharply. "I volunteer," he said after a short deafening pause, surprising himself by stepping out on the concrete path to the platform. "I volunteer then," he repeated, his eyes widening in disbelief as he realized what he had done.

But it was the right thing to do. He had to do this.

Suddenly afraid, he glared at the other boys. With his slanted eyes and fierce-looking face, he cut a menacing figure despite his lack of bulk. His jaw tightened as a determined fifteen year old shoved his way up to him. Their gazes locked. The other's fist shot forth, but Tesu was used to ducking blows. He crouched and brought his own foot up between the boy's legs. The other whimpered as he collapsed on the ground.

"I'm sorry," Tesu said, wincing in sympathy, "but I have to do this."

"Well that's one way of doing things," Ambrose said, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Aureus held out his hand as Tesu reached him. The shorter boy grasped it firmly, meeting the other's pained eyes.

"Come and see me after," Tesu whispered before jogging up to the stage.

"I am Tesu Sumach, 17 years old," he announced.

"Awesome," Ambrose said in mocking tones, already heading for the girls' reaping ball.

Tesu didn't care, Spindle would never have to worry about food ever again.

"And our little lady this year is going to be..." Ambrose smiled as the girls' nervousness increased. A tight, expectant smile which made Tesu's hair stand on end. Not Spindle, just not Spindle.

"Georgette Calico," the escort announced, as if savoring the name.

A short girl with ringlets of ginger hair caressing down her shoulders came out of the fourteens'. She was very pretty in a pre-pubescent way and seemed to be praying as she walked, eyes lost in the distance. Her face was much older than her years.

"And so the Games begin! May the odds ever be in your favor."

Tesu gritted his teeth, did the man have to sound so mocking? He walked to the Justice building, holding his head up high. Despite his dread, he'd never felt so proud of himself.


"You wanted to see me?" Aureus said tentatively.

Raffia shoved him against the door. "You steal my son from me and then dare show your face? Get out!"

"No!" Tesu said, raising his voice against his mother for the first time in his life. "Get out, Raffia, you lost the right to be respected as a parent when you stopped acting like one. You get out!"

That felt so good. Tesu whole face glowed with triumph as a peacekeeper led his mother away.

"Spindle, come in." His voice hardened again "Later, Father. At least five minutes after Aureus comes out."

"So, no money to her?" Aureus said, looking ill at ease.

"Not a crust of bread, and frankly, no more than the occasional alimony to my father, unless Spindle changes her mind about it," he said, his arm around his sister. "There also this Aunt, Cochlea Sumach. She's alone with my cousins, she could use a hand." His eyes became pleading, his grip around Spindle tightening. "Please take her in. She's no trouble, I..."

"Shut up," Aureus snapped. The older boy sighed loudly as he saw Spindle cringe. "Of course, you idiot, you volunteered. For me." He cracked a small smile and awkwardly brushed Spindle's bangs away from her face. "My family is sane, don't worry, my sister will love you." Aureus took off the golden chain around his neck. "Your old man doesn't look like the gift type to me. Keep it, it makes you look tougher."

Tesu accepted the gift, deciding to take the boy's word at it. After all the Capitol would doubtless share Aureus' tastes in jewelry rather than his. "Accompany her home, to get her stuff back before Raffia gets any ideas. I hope you... you know...succeed in life," Tesu wished at last.

Aureus just nodded.

"Little spider..." Tesu said, getting to his knees before his sister, worried at the blankness of her face.

"Little fool," Spindle interrupted with a heartbreaking smile.

"No. Nothing is worth more than this. It's not just you, Arachnea, it's your children too. You're safe now, you've got a real future. Our family will go on, a real family, through you."

"Just hug me, Tesu."

When his father came in neither knew what to say. They'd never really talked. He was just the man who slept at home. The man who had sometimes walked him to school or work.

"You did more with two words than I ever did for our family. I'll take no credit for it," his father finally said, "but it's a gesture worthy of the greatest men."

They ended up shaking hands, neither feeling right about it. Tesu hoped the man would find the courage to reconnect with Spindle.

"Dude, what am I going to do now?"

Tesu turned at the loud whisper coming from the door. He found himself smiling for no reason.

"Lucky it wasn't you. With a name like yours, you'd be dead before reaching the Capitol," he said.

Kilim stuck his tongue out before pouncing on Tesu and rubbing his fist against the other boy's sleek hair. The other put up token resistance, startled when he realized the unfamiliar sounds were his father's soft chuckles.

"I won't say it, because you know it. Give them one hell of a show," Kilim said.

"Time's up," the peacekeeper said outside. His father hurried out.

Kilim tipped an imaginary hat to his friend as he exited, his smile not reaching his eyes.

"Just a second please," a musical voice said. A gorgeous chestnut-haired young woman came in and kissed Tesu tenderly on the mouth.

"Thank you, for my brother. You'll have nothing more to worry about."

She left after having kissed him again.

Tesu stood there smiling stupidly, the taste of her peach lipstick on his lips. He was in so love in Gloria Florin.

There were worse ways to die.


Georgette « Georgie » Calico, 14, District 8

Georgie had a secret, and that secret was that she was deathly afraid of reaping day. For the last two years, every minute of her life had been well planned, even her nights out with Lacie and Fuller. She juggled between school and work, family and friends, and she was good at it, even if she could feel herself growing old before her time.

But the reapings were beyond her control. She reminded herself Batiste was eight, only eight, that he'd be safe, that she'd be eighteen by the time he was eligible. She'd have a real full time job and he wouldn't even need tesserae. Tesserae. She had four to her name, twelve extra slips that could mean her death. But she just couldn't be reaped, she was the main provider. All this made her want to scream until her throat was raw. Instead she played logic puzzles with Batiste at dawn, losing more often than not. Actually, losing all the damn time.

"Enough humiliation for today," she finally said after the tenth loss in a row. "Go fetch me a glass of water, Slave," she ordered with a swish of her hand.

Batiste dimpled before complying.

"Georgie, don't talk to him like that. I don't want him to grow up being bossed around."

Georgie bristled. She found herself on her feet, her blue eyes flashing. Her voice was only kept to a bare whisper for Batiste's sake.

"Say one more time that I'm harming my little brother in any way, and I will change my name back to Lowell."

Dimity closed her brown eyes and took a deep breath. "Georgie, I'm not doubting your love for us or your devotion to this family. I'm just saying you should watch your tone."

"No, I get it, Mom."

"Oy, slave," she called.

"Yes?" Batiste said, looking at the two women curiously.

"If someone else ever bosses you around on calls you a name that is slightly disrespectful, you tell me later, and I'll kill them."

Batiste nodded, a little taken aback at her vehemence. He handed Georgie her water.

"Thanks," she turned to her mother. "See, problem solved."

The women sighed and kissed her daughter's forehead.


Georgie was standing in her usual reaping dress. She'd sown it herself when she'd been twelve and it still fit decently. She felt sick with dread, like every year. She stood still. She never stood still during the day. She always had a zillion things to do. Except at the reaping. At the reaping people waited. Lacie was holding her hand, her wide green eyes showing but a fraction of the other girl's fear. Baby Lacie, youngest of five, Lacie with her filled rosy cheeks. Lacie could never know how much Georgie envied her.

Ambrose Dovey swept on stage, as sickening as always as he flaunted his power over them with superb clothes that could feed her family for a year. Clothes he'd throw away the next day with total disregard of the workers who'd painstakingly woven the fabrics together.

Ambrose swept his gaze over them and it was obvious he liked what he saw. Georgie only saw fear and misery around her. Maybe the escort saw something twisted like the greatness of the Capitol. She hated him, hated him for accepting to do what he did. She hated him more than the peacekeepers who took away wrongdoers, because she was sure that, unlike them, Ambrose Dovey could sit all day at home and still have money to throw out the windows.

Some guy was reaped. Georgie didn't pay attention, but then the boy spoke.

"I'll take care of your family as I would of my own if you volunteer."

The ginger-haired girl sought the other boy's face. He looked both determined and disgusted with himself. Georgie pitied him, he'd have to live all his life knowing he'd sent a desperate boy to his death. She also envied him so much, for having the means to do that. A desperate boy did end up giving his name. Tesu Sumach. No one she knew, but Ambrose just had to be an ass about it.

Georgie realized her hands were now shaking uncontrollably because Lacey had tightened her grip. She never looked weak, ever. But Lacie was loyal, she didn't say a word. Georgie kept her eyes tightly shut, aware she was worse than some of the twelve year olds.

"And our little lady this year is going to be..."

Just get it over with.

"Georgette Calico."

Her heart stopped.

Why? She'd always worked her hardest. She'd never given up. Why her? Why wasn't there a shred of justice in this world!

As usual people were chattering now. Georgie was pushed forwards by the people around her. Lacie had abruptly let go of her hand to stifle her sobs.

Georgie dragged her feet to the platform, staring at the ground. She found herself silently begging the universe, anything that might help her. She had to win this. She had no choice. She had to win. She'd figure out the how later. She had to win or it was just like Batiste, Satin and her mother had been reaped too. She considered throwing up on the escort. No. She was too proud to do that.

"And so the Games begin! May the odds ever be in your favor."

Oh do be quiet, couldn't he see she was thinking?


Her mother was ashen , Georgie caught her in her arms, wondering how the woman had walked up to the Justice building in the state she was in.

Dimity just held her, her grasp as fragile as a flower, not a sound coming from her lips.

"Mommy, Mommy, why are you like that?" Satin said, her face crumpling.

"She's just tired it's the heat, it gets to us all," Georgie said with a fake smile, helping her mother to sit, "I'm going to have to leave for a little while, Satin. I'm going to need you to be happy."

"That's okay, I got to practice with my dad," Satin said with an earnest face.

A punch to her stomach would have been less painful.

"She had no awareness of the significance of what she just uttered." Batiste quickly said, grasping Georgie's hand tightly. His eyes were dull, never had they been simply dull before.

"What?" Satin exclaimed, pulling a face.

Georgie chuckled weakly as she hugged her brother. Amazed he'd had the presence of mind to use big words Satin wouldn't understand. Big words she most certainly hadn't known at his age. But he was right, Satin had just been a couple of months old at the time.

As Georgie looked at her little family, deathly fear began to paralyze her. She found she couldn't pull away from Batiste.

"Hey guys, why don't you come and eat at my house tomorrow," Fuller said from the doorway.

His voice was a pitiful croak, but it shook Georgie enough to remember she had to be strong for them.

"And mine afterwards," Lacie added, picking Satin up. The little girl loved playing with Lacie's long hair, it was so different from the curls everyone in the family had. Georgie was so grateful for the distraction.

"Many, many meals together," she muttered, her burning gaze on her two best friends. They couldn't let her family starve, they just couldn't.

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway. Georgie stared as she recognized her paternal grandparents. Her mother's had died long ago. She'd seen those people only twice in her life. Contrived, short meetings. The white-haired woman spoke.

"We never approved our son marrying Dimity. But his behavior in the last few years has been unacceptable and no fault of yours. Blood is blood. We will figure things out with your friends, even if we have little to offer."

Georgie felt a sudden urge to shout at them. Now they turned up? Probably if the reaping had not been held in the city they'd still have remained strangers. But beggars couldn't be choosers. She nodded briskly.

"Thanks," she grudgingly said. It wasn't fair, that they'd be fit in their late sixties when her mother was barely thirty-two and deserved it so much more.

"Try not to get wounded too badly, even if you'll get medicine when you'll be a rich victor. I don't want you to hurt."

Georgie turned to stare at Batiste. A strangled sob escaped her throat. He looked so confident. Of course he believed she would win. She was his hero after all.

So instead she plastered a small smile on her face and said, "I'll do my very best, Batiste, my very very best."

When they left, all she had was a huge weight pressing on her chest and a hand sewn penguin she had given to Batiste for his fifth birthday. His reading penguin. Because he'd have no time to read anyway during the Games.

When there was no one left to see her. Georgie burst into tears.


AN: This district was dreadful. Nine will be more fun. Please review^^.