Hey guys! Here's district 6 right on time :) I hope you love it! If you want to take your reading experience to the next level I have a suggestion for you. I'm a total music nerd and since one of these tributes plays the piano I listened to my favorite piano pieces while writing, go to youtube and look up "Cloud Atlas End Title" and listen while you read. It's amazing.

without anymore hesitation enjoy!


It hurts sometimes

To find where you begin

Kinley Mathers - District Six Female

"Come on! The career boy from 2 is closing in on you, the one with the axe. What're you doing?" Dad yells at me loudly. "He's going to kill you!" He says it's to help simulate the real thing. The sounds of screaming, shouting, dying even. I turn around and see the dummy labeled "District 2 Male" with a hatchet tied clumsily on his wrist. Without hesitation I release the knife and it soars through the air and plunges itself deep into what would be the boy's elbow. "He's not dead!" Dad keeps yelling. Always yelling, the noise exercises are easily my least favorite.

I grab another knife from my vest and fling it at my target, I hit my mark. The knife is jutting out of the knee. "Maybe I didn't want to kill this career." I huff turning to look at my father. A young adult just into his 30's with 5 o'clock shadow at noon. His brown eyes roll at my comment, and I reply. "You didn't say he had the pack with him. He could have useful information or maybe he's a huge prick who I want to leave to bleed out." Dad crosses his arms disapprovingly. "But I made my shots look!" I point and the dummy who wouldn't be able to walk or carry anything.

"Fair enough, you did technically incapacitate him." He walks over to the target and rips the knives from the dummy and places them back in my hand. "Those were some great throws. Let's do a few lethal ones and then you can be done for the day, alright?" I nod happily.

"What drill?" I question him.

"Call out." That's when he calls a dummy and body part and I have to hit them. Simple enough; there are no distractions, no yelling, only me and the knives. "Ready?"

I take a moment to breathe, during practice I can use these vital seconds to place myself in the situation, to mentally prepare. "Yes."

"Boy from 7, throat." I whip to my left and toss the twirling metal, dead on. "Girl from 1, heart." I throw again, just a little to the left of my mark. "Girl from 9, naval and boy from 10, forehead." My heads swivels until I've located both of them. They're on exact opposites so I take a knife in each hand, aim, and watch the blades fly from my peripherals. With two satisfying thuds I smile and saunter over to my father.

"That was fun." I say cheerily, I enjoy training. As much as anyone can I suppose.

"You missed." With a skeptical look I turn around to find out, he's right. I hit the girl in the forehead and the boy in the naval. I got it backwards. I bite the inside of my cheek to avoid grimacing. "At least they would still be dead." My dad says clearly a little disappointed. "Weren't you meeting with your girl friends before the reaping?" I nod confirming my plans. "You know what we have to do before you go though right?" I continue nodding and we both go upstairs away from our makeshift training basement.

"Let me change first." Dashing up the stairs I rip my shirt off and toss it in my dirty laundry pile. The dress my best friend Aylee left me is laying gracefully on my bed. When I put it on I twirl in front of my mirror. I look good, Aylee gave me a classy A-line, rose pattern lace overlay dress. With a round neckline and no sleeves my slender arms are prominent. I only wish it could be a little longer, it ends mid-thigh. The only thing I add to it is my mother's silver amulet. It easily fits into the palm of my hand and while it doesn't particularly match the outfit I'm not going anywhere without it.

"My do you look beautiful." Dad exclaims as soon as I walk back downstairs. "She'd be so proud of the young woman you've become." He pushes the front door open of our small shack and in a few short steps we reach our destination. I wrap my arms around my father and lean my head against his chest. He's strong hands rubs my back comfortingly. "She'd be so proud." He repeats.

Before us is what we've always referred to as mom's tree. She died 4 days after I was born in the Hunger Games. It was such a huge deal back then. How no one would volunteer for a screaming pregnant girl due in 2 weeks. How no other tribute would align with her. How she had to hide and live off the land, eating for two. How she gave birth without assistance alone next to a lake filled with killer trout. How the game makers discreetly stole the child away, saving me. And then how 4 days later, in the top 6 she was slain but a fisherman's son named Moss who would later be crowned victor. Moss shared the spotlight with me that year. I was dubbed "The Hunger Games Kid". A title that disappeared once I grew older.

When she came back in a box with three identical trident holes in her abdomen my father had her burned to ashes and spread them here. He said that mom would want her death to bring life. Life to me, life to Moss, and life to this tree. Dad said it was perfect for her. So every year before the reaping we come out here and pay our respects. While I never knew my mom, I saw her struggling to survive on recaps of her Games. She's my hero. Dad started training me because of her. It was never easy, especially in the younger years. All I could think about was how I'm throwing knives because my mother is dead.

"Kenna, I love you so much. Each year the Games are just a punch in my gut. I think about you every day and miss you so much." He sets down a bouquet of wild flowers I didn't know he was holding. Quietly I retreat from him so he can have his moment.

From behind me I see my best friend Aylee and her older brother Francis approaching. I blush a little and look away from Francis. I may or may not have a little bit of a thing for him.

Aylee smiles brightly and Francis stands their relaxed. "Shall we? Rosalyn won't like to wait on us"


But you are perfect porcelain

The slow and simple melody

Evander Lazonik - District Six Male

The white porcelain is smooth beneath my fingers. Each pluck elicits a new tone to haunt the ears around me. Each chord is a new sound, each note is a new life I created. I may only know a few songs by heart but I know enough of music theory to bring forth beautiful sounds. My sight reading skills are essentially perfect as well. This is me. Every now and then a key is broken and I'm met with an unfortunate click but that doesn't stop me.

I feel at home in very few places, my actual home included. But here, in front of this beat up ancient piano is easily my favorite place, my home. When I'm here no one can hurt me, the past is gone, the future is silence I'm meant to fill with beauty. When people look at me on the streets it's always with light disdain or indifference. No one cares enough to either hate me or like. Or even get to know me for that matter. But when people look at me here, in my zone, my cornucopia of rhythm and melody they only see the music.

"Hey kid play a little louder." A mechanic yells at me. I rummage through my leather knapsack and take out a new piece I got from City Hall's music library. The Capital keep most of the sheet music to themselves but every now and then a piece as beautiful as the one I have is somehow found and isn't made contraband. It's called Cloud Atlas End Title Sextet.

The beginning is simple enough, lots of shallow chords and a higher melody line that resonates the depression and realism of life, but there's hope in the chords. The notes speak of a future that's somehow bright no matter how dark it seems. As my eyes dart across the page keeping every accidental proper I feel like I'm floating.

Music is my escape from reality. My mind drifts free from pluck to pluck. Each note is a story to be told if a mind like mine can decipher it. Music is too important to stagnate. Slowly, but steadily, the music makes a crescendo. The chords complicate themselves the intensity of each contradicting pair amplifies. A line labeled for violin is added but having only the one stringed instrument my fingers find the tact to add the underlying build. My right hand adds a flute line the seems to soar above everything else with a bright ring to it. I press down the pedals furthering the intensity.

Without realizing it I've lost myself in the music. It rarely happens but when it does my life is complete. No matter what violence there is in the world it will always pale in comparison to the noises of harmony and grace notes. A diminished chord leads into a lower register trill setting up another flute line labeled fortissimo. I obey the command and pound even harder.

Then it happens. The climax of the piece hits. The chords. Each of my digits obeying a note written in an age past. An old life being kept alive because of my skills. Lives and love lost to the inevitability of time. I pound the delicate porcelain moving my shoulders in rhythm with the beauty. My eyes seeing the notes jump from the page into waves of majesty filling the air around me. Blessing the world in the only way I can.

Every ounce of my being is focused on each note. Each page and page flip is the only thing in the world to me. I lean in further, my body now covered in goosebumps brought on by such beautiful dissonance. A double set of triplets leads me to the final chord. My fingers linger on the final written notes.

A quick whip of the neck and my hair is no longer clinging to my forehead. Leaning back I wipe sweat off my brow I didn't realize had conglomerated there. Slowly I breathe, still struck by the glory of the piece. I don't snap out of my bubble until my sister, Melissa taps me on the shoulder.

"Evander that was the best you've ever played." I hear applause dying out in the background. Looking around I see that everyone at the mechanic shop is returning to the train piece or the car or the hovercraft engine they were previously tinkering with. "Where did you get that anyway?"

"I went to City Hall's music library and got it."

"And how did you afford to buy it." My father comes into view from his office. He owns the shop. I want to tell him I can come up with money for music the same way he used to come up with money for morphling and booze but I don't because it would just be uncalled for.

"I saved up." It's a boring truth but it's the only one I have.

"Well I'm glad it went to something like that, it's incredible. What'd you say it was called?" Melissa takes over the conversation, whenever dad may get confrontation she steps in, after all she's the older sibling the 'adult' of age 19.

"Cloud Atlas." I say meekly.

"It was great, I can't wait til you play it again, but are you ready to go home? You need to get ready for the umm," She stumbles over her words. "the reaping."

At least I'll have something to do today.


Of tears you cannot keep from me

It's alright if you don't know what you need

Kinley Mathers - District Six Female

"Now don't you feel nice? You look delightful! Much better than stealing from your neighbors right?" Aylee ruthlessly harasses me. I roll my eyes at her and give her the most sarcastic face I can.

"Oh yes. It's wonderful. And it's not stealing if that little kid with the crush on me invites me in and practically gives me permission." We both laugh.

"Maybe one day you'll have a little class." She says in jest.

"Maybe one day you'll finally step in a mud puddle." Aylee always was the pretty girl and the girly girl.

"Or, I could not. That sounds fun too doesn't it?" Again we both laugh. "This one is Rosalyn's house right?"

"Yep, she's not even my friend and I know that." Francis chimes in. We all decided to go to the reaping together, the four of us. But Rosalyn offered us all a warm meal before hand. And how do you turn down a meal from the only child of the biggest grocery store in the district?

We climb a few steps and I knock on the thick wooden door. We can all hear shuffling and a few switches clicking open, and within a few moments the door opens revealing the last of our party. Much like Aylee she's a very feminine girl.

"Hey guys!" We all exchange hugs and then all rush to her dining room.

"So what's for lunch?" I question.

"Do you have any manners at all Kinley?" Aylee's exasperated voice questions. I ignore her, because I'm ready for a good meal. Poor in District 6 might not equal starvation like with the more agricultural districts but it does mean that any time you go over to a wealthy friend's house, food in probably going to be your focus.

"You'd think by now we would have rubbed off on her." Rosalyn chimes in. "Please sit down." She gestures to a sturdy yet elegant round wooden table resting in the center of the room. "It just so happens that I have a cornish hen baking for each of you." My mouth waters at the thought of having a hen all to myself, nevermind whatever cornish means. Francis pulls a chair back for his sister but I quickly slide in front of her.

"Thank you sir." I quip with a smile, he chuckles and Aylee takes the seat to my left and Francis to my right. We all exchange pleasantries and start shooting the bull about how excited Francis is to only have one reaping left, and how after this one we all only have two, among other things. Within 10 minutes Rosalyn, clad in a flowery apron and over sized oven mitts, sets down a plate in front of all of us.

"And there you have it ladies and Francis. A rosemary seasoned cornish game hen on a bed of wild greens and butter ladened garlic mashed potatoes." She took her mitts off and clapped her hands together clearly quite satisfied with herself. "Well dig in!"

None of us hesitated to scarf down our food as quickly as possible, granted we each had a different style of eating. Francis being the man he is picked it up and bit right into it. I tore mine apart with my silverware and started shoving chunks into my gullet fast as I could. And of course lovely Aylee carefully dissects hers with a speed and dexterity I didn't know she could posses. When Rosalyn returns from the kitchen to join us we're all half way done.

"Easily the best meal I've had since the last reaping." I finally say after we've all finished and begun digesting the delicious bird. "Thank you very much."

"Now was that too difficult?" Aylee retorts. I can't find a come back quick enough so I unleash the heartiest burp I could. "I sit corrected."

"We should probably make that stand corrected, the reaping starts soon." Francis says while collecting all our plates and dishes. He disappears into the kitchen with Rosalyn on his heels carrying everything left on the table.

"He's right we need to get going." The pair of our posse return from the kitchen and we head off. It's a very short walk, Rosalyn lives 3 doors down from town square. We bid farewell to Francis after getting poked for blood. He heads off to the 18 year old section while we ladies make our way to the 16 year old area. Eventually our escort bids us welcome.

"Hello to all! And welcome to the annual reaping of the 58th Annual Hunger Games! I hope you're all as excited as I am!" The woman on stage who's name I've never bothered to remember screeches loudly, clearly they never did a mic check. "I am honored today to be here in District 6 to select the brave young man and beautiful young lady who will represent you and have the honor of participating in the 58th Hunger Games!" She pauses for applause and is met with almost silence. I think a few people clapped because they felt obliged. "Without any further adieu let's go with the gentleman first!" She's dressed moderately for the Capital, the only thing that sets her apart is the whiskers. They're like 3 feet long and she has at least 20 on her face. "Evander Laz, umm Lazareth? Lazonick! Evander Lazonick." She finally pinches out. A young and very pale boy who looks scared but is trying his best to put on a brave face ascends the stage. I admire that for someone who's only 14. "And now for the women!" Slowly and deliberately she pulls a name forth and just as deliberately reads it. "Kinley Mathers."

My heart stops. I force one foot in front of the other while my face contorted with fear. I reach the stage and my fear amplifies when I spot my father. He's fallen to the ground sobbing because, like mother like daughter; I'm heading back into the arena. But this time, the Capital won't save me.


I'm right here when

You need someone to see

Evander Lazonik - District Six Male

The walk from my dad's shop to our house isn't too bad. My sister mostly fills the void with talk of how she's so many days away from getting a raise at that will increase her monetary stockpile by such and such. She, much like myself, is smart. We inherited it from our deceased mother. Sometime about a decade ago when mom and dad were on their destructive paths she got a bad dosage of morphling and died. It set Dad straight so I guess that something.

Our house is small yet cozy. We live very comfortably in lower middle class. Not making a crap load of money but we're not starving to death on a regular basis. I go to my room and pick out the nicest outfit of clothes that I have.

Then I put them back. I'm not trying to impress anyone. So I settle for my favorite outfit. A plain white t-shirt with a casual black leather jacket, a pair of dark wash jeans that hug my legs, and my favorite worn dark colored runners. I also slip in my silver stud earrings, because why not?

As soon as I go back into our common space I'm met with, "Son are you sure that's appropriate attire for a reaping? Everyone's going to be in their best and..." He trails off full knowing that I'm not listening.

"No matter what I won't be the most wildly dressed person, thanks to our escort." I open the front door to leave.

"Are you sure you don't want any company on your way to the reaping?" Melissa asks kindly. I want to tell her that it would be the greatest gift she could give me to leave me alone and give me some space but that would be rude, so I opt for the socially acceptable response.

"No, thank you though. It's a nice day and a walk alone to clear my head would be nice." Not technically a lie, it's just not the reason I want to be rid of her. However it is a nice day out and a walk alone is something I would normally do.

The sun is shining high above the cumulonimbus clouds that signal rain is surely on it's way the next few days, if not this evening. I always loved thunderstorms. The way that lighting seems to cleave the sky in two halves in a jagged tear and that instantly vanishes. Such a powerful force, gone in less than a blink of an eye. It's like people, there will always be someone with such a strong force to try and change the world and for a brief moment they have the potential to. But more often than not they fade as immediately as they form.

Of course an occasional bolt may strike a factory, or windmill, or something and burn it to the ground and thus leave a mark on the world. But, really how often does that happen? Hardly ever.

I walk for another 20 minutes or so, until I reach the town square. It appears as though my arrival is slightly early. Regardless, I follow the protocol and offer up my index finger for stabbing. Even though I know it's coming I can't help but jerk back right after the prong makes contact. The peacekeeper grabs my hand and slams it onto the paper. I walk away from him with a sneer. Oh how I hate the establishment.

When reach the 14 year old section I stand off in a corner, away from the small group who arrived before myself. Technically I would say they're all acquaintances but that doesn't entail that I want to strike up a conversation and get all chummy with them. I'm perfectly content by myself. After 10 or so minutes the small animal pen we're crammed in is full and the escort begins shrieking over the microphone.

"Hello to all! And welcome to the annual reaping of the 58th Annual Hunger Games! I hope you're all as excited as I am! I am honored today to be here in District 6 to select the brave young man and beautiful young lady who will represent you and have the honor of participating in the 58th Hunger Games!" There's a grandiose rest here that I'm sure when she planned her speech applause would be filling. A few others and myself all give her a pitying clap.

"Without any further adieu let's go with the gentleman first!" At least this one doesn't want to waste everyone's time with nonsensical blabbering and falsetto wailing. "Evander Laz, umm Lazareth?" My eyes go wide and I start praying there's an Evander Lazareth. But deep down I know she'll call me. "Lazonick! Evander Lazonick." I take a deep breath and clench my teeth to give me a type of pain to focus on. I refuse to cry and try to keep a brave face as I ascend the stairs. "And now for the women! Kinley Mathers." A slim and fit girl with beautiful hair joins me on stage. We shake hands and a pair of peacekeepers drag us into the Justice Building.


It's not speak

Or forever hold your peace

Kinley Mathers - District Six Female

Dad burst through the doors, tears freely falling from his brown eyes. I meet him halfway and we embrace in a hug tighter than I thought possible. Through our mutual sobbing I'm able to make out what he's trying to tell me.

"This is why we trained right?" He holds my face in both hands. "Now you go there, you stay under the radar and avoid the careers alright? You can do this. I know you can."

"Thanks dad, I promise I'll come back." I know I shouldn't make promises I can't guarantee I'll keep but I have to believe in myself. For some reason I become distinctly aware of the mom's necklace on my chest. "Can this be my token?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way. I love you sweetie." A peacekeeper that appeared out of no where drags him away from me and out the door. As quickly as he left Aylee, Francis, and Rosalyn all join me.

"Give em hell alright?" Francis hugs me and I nod into his chest.

"Come back to us alright? We need someone exciting in our little group." Rosalyn awkwardly laughs. I grab both her and Aylee and we hug.

"Your dad still makes you throw knives right?" Aylee asks me.

"Yeah." I say under my breath. Just because I can throw knives doesn't mean I want to. Let alone into a person.

"Good. If anyone can win you can." Much like my father a peacekeeper begins to drag them out.

"For good luck." Francis temporarily pulls away from the peacekeeper hauling the girls out and kissed me on the cheek. I want to blush but I can't under the circumstances. He leaves and the door slams behind him. Let the games begin.


It's alright to take time

And find where you've been

Evander Lazonik - District Six Male

"Evander, I don't know what to say." My sister and father join me on the plush red davenport. Dejectedly I lay my head against my sister's shoulder and sit there numb. Dad is the first to break the silence when he stands up.

"This is so backwards, Melissa was the one who took tesserae." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's not fair son." Of course it is. It was random selection, that's the definition of fair. It still sucks that it's me, but that doesn't mean the system itself is rigged. Still I keep these thoughts to myself instead of sharing them.

"Yeah, it's pretty messed up." I mumble. All I wanted was to be left alone, to play music, and live a boring life alone. I don't want the riches or glory that would come with my survival. If I survive that is. I'm not stupid, I know I'm only 14. I can't think of anyone in the past decade who has been under 16 and won.

"Well Evander, I love you very much and I expect to see you fighting like I know you can and will." I give them a shadow of a smile and nod slowly.

"Keep my piano in tune until I get back?" The question is more for them and less for me. If my dad can fixate over cleaning or tuning a piano instead of where he could get a quick shot of morphling then maybe I did something right in my life.

"Wouldn't dream of it anyother way." Dad squeezes me wholly. Melissa is right behind him, yet when she goes to hug me she starts whispering.

"I promise I won't let Dad do anything stupid, but that doesn't give you an excuse not to try. You understand?"

"I understand." I half say half breathe, full aware that it could be the last thing I say to her. When I watch the them vanish behind the door I acknowledge that I'll have no other visitors. But, I'll have plenty of those when I reach the Capital.

You are perfect porcelain


The lyrics are from Porcelain by Marianas Trench another beautiful song.

Also the lyrics from the last chapter I forget to mention were from Katy Perry's Hot n Cold

I hope you're having a fun safe summer :)

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