Eretria Aelin Lysford, 17, District 7


The scars, I hate them, the sight, the feel when my shirt slides along the surface of the tissue or my hair brush against it. It seemed that everytime those moments arouse I was thrust back into the fire. The flames around me growing higher, hotter. The skin turning black, my skin. I could smell it but it was overpowered by the burning of my hair. That smell was putrid, burned at my nose. To this day I can catch a whiff of it. And then I see him. His dark eyes and hair, the soot that had gathered on his face. He smiled when he saw me...That was the last time I saw him smile.

I shift the collar of my jumper to block the scars lay that down my arm. Those ones were easier to hide. A thick shirt, hoodie, any cloth would work. The one on my forehead, that was a new challenge. I remember when I was little and my hair was singed off, I was forced to see the scar every time I looked in a mirror, forced to hear kids at school ask what happened to me. I hated it. Now, I have managed to grow the bangs of my brown hair. I never managed to grow out my hair too long. It reminds me too much of feeling it on fire. Instead, I keep it trimmed short but the bangs lay long enough to hang over the scar. Hang over the evidence of my past and block it from others.

"You ready?" Mom pokes her head through the door.

I nod my head and mom takes it as a motion that she can enter. The double set doors creak as she walks in, already dressed for the Reaping. Grey skirt with a jacket, her hair tightly woven. She is beautiful, though the stress shows evidence on her face.

"I won't be able to walk you to the ceremony but you know I will be right there on stage, just like every year." Her thin hands go for my hair, to weave it up in an updo but I pull away.

For a moment we stand in silence. I could tell she was wanting to talk, for me to say anything. Ten years of silence. I could never find the words to actually speak. I tried a few times but all that came out was a low gasp. It wasn't that my voice box was injured in the fire, just seemed to never find the words. Besides, I didn't really want to get close to mom. I didn't want to feel that pain again of losing someone. If you cut yourself off from the world, there is nothing the world can do to hurt you.

"I love you, honey," Mom gives me a hug, "Good luck."

Luck wasn't really apart of the Reaping, it was statistics. How many times my name was entered, how many times others were entered. I was the daughter of the mayor so I never needed to put my name in extra for food. 6 of the papers will have my name on them, 6 out of thousands. It was still a chance, but a slim one at best.

Mom kisses the top of my head and then someone is at the door telling her that she is late. She looks at me, a look I've seen many times before. Lost. Like she is upset that she can't figure out why I won't open to her. There was nothing she could do about it though. I was staying away from her for her safety and mine. That way, if either of us were to be lost, we could survive it. We could go on.

Before I leave my room, I grab the picture of my father. The only piece of him that survived the flames. It made me feel safe having it around. As if he would come running through the fire, smiling as he saw me, pulling me back to safety. I knew it would never happen. He's dead and I'm the reason why.


Prunus Elvergetty, 16, District 7


I slam my fist into the side of her head, knocking her to the ground.

"You see boys," I puff my chest out, "All it takes is a little control and they do whatever you want them to."

The guys around me nudged one another, sharing a smile, some laughing. Idiots, all of them but they were mine. My followers, admirers, they were the real slaves here, not the girl underneath my boot. If I ordered something, they would abide by it. To them, I was law.

I press my foot on the girl's stomach, the treads ripping at her white dress. Something sparkles, something precious glisten, as if announcing its presence to me.

"What do we have here?" I lean down, digging my hand into her cuffed arms.

"No!" She screams, "It's my token! It's for if I get reaped!"

"Not anymore," I snap. With a jerk, I free the metal bracelet from her hands and raise it up to the light. This is no cheaply made jewelry that those in the filthy slums wear. No, this is real, this is worth money. I could easily trade it at a market for a pocket full of cash, maybe even a month of food along with it, if I struck the right deal.

The girl goes to grasp it but with a swift kick, she slams back to the ground, tears streaming down her newly bruised eye. Pathetic. It was people like her that were prey for people like me. Their only use in life to provide me with entertainment or else with food and money. Usually, when I and the others decide to rob a house, we have to hit six or seven in one night just to get enough items to trade for a good amount of cash. Some houses have small valuables, like this bracelet, stowed away in cabinets or shelves. Somewhere the average person wouldn't think to look but I and the others had developed an eye for hiding places. We could sniff out one from a mile away.

We leave the girl to cry her eyes out in the dirt. Eventually, she will have to dist herself off and get up but by then we'd be long gone, the Reaping probably commencing by then. I roll my eyes at the thought of the Reaping, the Hunger Games. How easy would it be to win that? Beaten people to death and chilling out in some forest? I would be tempted to volunteer but without me, the boys would be lost and likely starve. No, I was needed here.

"We going to go trade it?" Buck asks.

"The markets are closed you dumbass," Pine says, "nothing is open on Reaping day."

"We will go tomorrow," I announce, "Till then I'll keep it. Now come on, we got to go to the Reaping."

We make our way as a group to the check-in. The normal prick of a finger, blood test, the girl saying we can go ahead. Of course, Pine tries to pick her up, like every year. And like every year, he fails to do so. She never outwardly says no. A girl from the Capitol and a possible victor? I'm sure if Pine came home after winning the games she would be laying in his new house ready to ride but Pine would actually have to win the Hunger Games for that to happen. It would be a cold day in hell for that to happen.

The others clear a spot for me, shoving a few weaker boys aside, making enough room for all of us to stand.

Valerian Silverspoon steps onto the stage. Her large blue wig seeming to have a mind of its own, swaying in different directions as if to sway her. Other than that monstrosity, Valerian was a sexy woman. Nice curves, face big chest. She's meant to serve the tributes every year, well if I was picked I'm sure I could think of a way she could serve me.

"Happy Hunger Games," Valerian announces.

She begins to babble on, the average speech about the games, some bullshit about honour. Really who could care about it? The stone stairs that lay in front of the Justice Building are more interesting than that but then she announces that she will be plucking the ladies first. Not like that is a big surprise, literally, every escort in every district does that. She grabs a piece of paper and makes her way to announce the name.

"Eretria Aelin Lysford," Valerian says.

There is a shuffle among the females as they look around, trying to find who was just called. Everyone in District 7 knows her, though. If for some odd reason you didn't then the expression on the mayors face could tell you. That look of "Not my child. Please, not her."

Eretria steps out, seeming cold as ever, almost bored. Quietly she makes her way to the stage, everyone watching her as she does. The mayor goes to stand but one of the attendance stops her, leaving the mayor to weep from her seat. It's not like Eretria will be missed. The girl was a basket case after her dad died in the fire. If anything, the Capitol just did District 7 a favour by getting her the hell out of here.

"Now for the boys," Valerian says and makes her way to the other bowl. The guys around us tense up, some seeming to stop breathing, someone behind me is crying I can hear him whimpering. How much of a baby do you have to be to cry before a name is even-

"Prunus Elvergetty," Valerian says.

What? I look up to see everyone's eyes trained on me. Valerian has figured out that the person called is in my general direction and smiles at me. How could I be called? Me?

"Pine, volunteer,"I order.

Pine stares at me. He doesn't do anything, doesn't say anything.

"Buck, you know what to do, volunteer," I say. The feeling of dread starting to loom over me. For a second I think my chest is tightening from the cluster of emotions starting to rise up but it's not. A peacekeeper has wrapper their arm around me and begins to drag me out of the crowd.

"I said, volunteer!" I scream, "Take my spot! You all will starve without me!"

The dopes just watch me with blank eyes as I am carried further from them. I have the bracelet. It might not do me good now but if I am going to the games then they will never see it. If I am going to go down, they will be brought down with me!


So I tried to make the most hated tribute ever in Prunus. Submissions have died down so I will be tossing in a few of my own tributes to keep chapters being posted. I will stop at 5, hopefully, by then, we get a lot more people submitted tributes.

Also, my keyboard went nuts and then this submitted really weirdly. I went through it twice and fixed all the errors but if there is above average spelling or grammar mistakes than that is why.

So who all hates Prunus? XD