A/N- Hi all, so...I got bored of the reapings. I'm sorry" Well, to be honest- I got bored after the first 3...they're just so repetitive! Anyway...I did not give up on them. I just decided to put the final reapings into two big chapters. So in this chapter there are district 8 and district 9 plus the District 10 female. In the next chapter there will be DIstrict 10 Male, DIstrict 11 and District 12. I have tried to write as much as I would have otherwise for each tribute. So this chapter is about twice as long as other chapters but I hope you understand. It's better than nothing right?

Also, I decided to play around in this chapter and I brought in the concept of flashbacks which is something I really want to explore in 'Away from the sun' so I hope that's okay. Tell me what you think of them. Anyway...enjoy!

"I'll say it one last time: Be Brave"- Divergent

District 8 Male

Jason Eddy (18 years old)

Everything stopped in that moment. It was me. I was reaped. I was going into The Hunger Games.

I could hear people speaking but it felt as though they were a million miles away. I was just stood here, in the middle of the town square, my feet stuck to the ground. I was on my own. Everybody has moved away from me. I could see the capitol citizen staring at me, a wicked smile appearing on her purple lips. I was unable to move. I was unable to speak. How could this have happened? Just yesterday I was…Just yesterday I was…

12 hours ago

I was sat at the wooden desk. My hand moved around the paper as I designed a pattern for a dress. It was an intricate pattern. One with many different shapes combined. This pattern wasn't for a particular project it was just an idea which had been spinning around in my mind. With a large sigh, I moved my pencil away from the paper and looked at the design.

It definitely was something. I could imagine it decorating a woman's dress or used for a set of curtains. It was beautiful. It could change a style-less house into something magnificent."Perfect," I muttered under my breath as I smiled at my work.

A small chuckle sounded from behind me. I turned to see my two friends, Brendon and Alexander.

"Cool design," Brendon said.

I smiled in thanks and then stood up. I knew it was close to our finishing time so I had to prepare to leave. We always stopped working a couple of hours earlier the day before the reapings so we could have a good night sleep. However, I wasn't going to get an early night that night. I was going to spend a couple of hours with my friends.

I picked up the pile of papers on my desk. Each one of them was a different pattern design. I moved them over to the pattern shelf and placed them down next to my co-workers designs. "Final reaping tomorrow," I commented.

"Finally," Alexander said. "We should celebrate afterwards."

I nodded my head in agreement. The idea that I could possibly get reaped never crossed my mind. I always liked to stay optimistic and I hated having any negative thoughts cross my mind. I wouldn't get reaped, I was sure of it.

12 hours later

How wrong was I?

I composed myself and began to move towards the stage. I had to stay strong. I had to stay confident. I forced my lips into a smile and rolled back my shoulders. It was time to act brave for the cameras. I could see the mayor standing on stage. He looked rather unsettled. Perhaps it was because his daughter-in-law's brother had just been reaped into the hunger games. But I was going to return. I had to return. I shone my smile in his direction and gave him a wink, telling him I would be okay. There was no need to worry about me.

All of a sudden, I remembered the pattern design I created the night before. It was a masterpiece. I had to ensure a message was passed to my boss about that. I would have loved for it to have been decorating District 8 when I returned. I stood in my place on stage and shoved my hands into the pockets on my jeans.

It was time to make them love me. I looked right into camera and nodded my head in confidence and in admiration. I then winked once more. That would make the ladies love me. I had to these games sorted. I had them planned. I was sure I could make my creative mind help me during the games. I could make myself unstoppable as I would make creative solutions. Ones they would not expect.

It was time to win the Hunger Games.

District 8 Female

Mayrie Bud (12 years old)

My feet fitted into the gaps in the tracks perfectly as I walked along them with my friend, Coral. No trains ever used these tracks. They hadn't all my life and probably longer than that. It was our first reaping this year. I must admit, I was quite nervous. I was scared I was going to get reaped. I was a twelve year old girl, destined for the bloodbath.

"What are you wearing today?" Coral asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Maybe a skirt and a blouse." I said. I wanted to act like I didn't know what I was wearing but the truth was, I knew exactly what I was wearing. My mother had picked it out months before. She wanted me looking my best for my first reaping. That was how my mother worked, always pushing me to be my best. Sometimes it really gets me down.

"MAYRIE BUD!" I heard someone shout. I turned my head. My hair flew into my face. It was my mother. She was storming towards me with a clear angry face. "What are you doing? You need a bath before your reaping."

She grabbed my arm and started marching me back to our house. I only just had enough time to say goodbye to my friend. Don't get me wrong. My mother wasn't a mean mother, she cared for me and she wanted what was best for me. She was, however, a very stern individual. One who was not to be messed around with. She was right anyway; I did need to get ready for the reapings. It was going to happen in just less than two hours.

Either I would escape or I would be captured. Either I would survive or die. There wasn't any in-between.

…

A scream erupted from my lungs the minute I heard my name. It couldn't be me. I couldn't go into the Hunger Games! I was twelve! I tried to back away. I tried to escape it all. This was a nightmare. I could pinch myself and I would wake up. I tried it but it didn't work. It had to work! This wasn't true. I refused to believe this was actually happening.

Two peacekeepers, dressed in white armour came over to me and grabbed me. One of them threw me over their shoulder and carried me up to the stage. I hit against his back and kicked my legs around as I screamed. I didn't want them to take me. I couldn't let them take me. I just wanted to go back home and back to my family and Coral. I wanted to walk along the old railway tracks again, that was something I did every single day. That morning would be last time I walked them tracks.

I knew I would never see District 8 again.

District 9 Female

Katherine Marin (15 years old)

His touch warmed my heart as his lips touched mine. We shared a rather passionate kiss, whilst my fingers twirled themselves around his hair. I pulled away and looked into his eyes, Jace Whittmore, the victor of the 53rd Hunger Games. A smile appeared on my lips as I looked dreamingly at him.

He would be going soon and he wouldn't be coming back for a few weeks. It was probable that he would have to watch two more of his tributes die like he had last year. Last year was awful, both of his tributes died in the bloodbath. Their deaths were brutal. Once he came back, he was traumatised for a few more weeks. It couldn't have been easy for him but at least he is safe from the games now. The only person I have to worry about this year is myself. Next year I could start worrying about one of my siblings. This year, it was just me.

"I should get going," he whispered gently into my ear. His voice caused my heart to beat at a hundred miles per hour. I took his hand and held it firmly in my grasp, I didn't want him to leave.

"Don't," I said.

I remembered the day I first fell in love with Jace. It was a humid, summer night sometime the year before.

10 months ago

I walked along the dirt-filled streets of District 9. I was just looking for somewhere to escape to. Things were pretty miserable at home. My mother was very unwell and after my father's death a few years back, the responsibility of our family was passed over to me. I now had three children to take care for. I was only fourteen years old at the time; it was a lot of pressure to take.

"Katherine!" I heard someone shout. I turned to see Jace running towards me, his brunette hair swaying with each step. He stopped beside me and smiled a weak smile, "hey." He had come back from his first mentoring job just over a month ago and he was still getting over the stress that caused him.

I had known him for quite a few months now and we really got on well. "Hi," I said as I stopped walking. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I just saw you and wanted to see how you were doing?"he said. His eyes looked deep into mine and for a moment, I got lost in them. They were so dreamy.

I glanced away and bit my lip anxiously, "been better," I said, "yourself?"

He nodded, "been better." A smirk grew on his face and he took a step towards me. At first, I didn't know what he was doing. I looked up at him with a confused look on my face. "I've been doing a lot of thinking and…I just want to try something," he said in a whisper. He then brought his face closer mine as he lent down to me. I felt my butterflies coming alive in my stomach and I felt my heart beating like a drum. I could only think of one thing and that was of him. 'Was he going to kiss me?'

He did. At first it was just a timid touch, lips to lips. Then, he seemed to build up the courage and he kissed me for real and I kissed him back. A spark seemed to happen as we kissed. I could feel my body warming and I knew he was the one. For the first time in three years, I felt happy. I felt free. I felt like me.

10 months later

The second I was on stage, I was in Jace's arms. I felt safe in his arms. I felt protected.

"This is just perfect, isn't it?" I whispered sarcastically. Jace chuckled weakly and kissed my cheek. I knew that Jace would do whatever it took to keep me alive but I was afraid that it would be all in vain. There would be many other tributes that would be stronger than me. Even Jace would admit it, he was lucky in his year. A strong boy from District 12 killed most of the careers before dying from an infection a few days later. Jace didn't really have any strong tributes to kill. What would be the odds of that happening again?

"Excuse me miss?" I heard that woman say in her high-pitched capitol accent. I turned around and shot her the dirtiest look I could pull. I then walked and stood by her. My district partner was already stood there. I hadn't even realised he had been reaped. He was a tall, muscular boy who must have been around 18 years old.

That was me dead already and I had only met that one tribute, whatever his name was.

District 9 Male

Corick Lepou (18 years old)

I was a fighter. I was a volunteer. I would be a career. I was certain of it all. The fame, the fortune, the honour, the pride and the money. All of it would be mine. I would just have to prove myself.

10 hours earlier

You didn't want to be out alone in District 9 at night unless you were able to protect yourself. I was able to protect myself. I walked along the alleyways alone. My only light source came from the half-working street lamps and the lights which shone from the windows. It was a cloudy night without a single star in the sky.

I could see the outline of rodents scurry along the mess. People just dumped their rubbish in these alleyways as the poorer people had nowhere else to put it. It was illegal but no one could ever prove who dumped what so no action was ever taken.

I saw two kids in the shadows. They were laughing about something ridiculous. I slowly approached them, "you know. It's way past curfew," I said.

One of the kids must have recognised me despite the minimal lighting and ran for it. "What the- get back here!" One of the kids shouted at the other kid who sprinted away. The kid then looked up at me with a smug look on his face. "What are you going to do? You're breaking the law as well!"

I smirked. This was one cocky kid. I would show him. I grabbed him by his shoulder and pinned him against the wall. Slowly, I began throwing punches towards him.

"You should give me that money in your pocket," I spat through gritted teeth. I then punched him again.

Believe it or not, this was one of my favourite past times. Walking at night and beating money out of whoever got in my way. Usually I did it with a group of my friends but, right now, it was just me against this kid. I was a 6"2, muscular man who had been training for the hunger games all his life. This was some skinny good for nothing kid who would probably cry if he had the honour to go into the hunger games.

Luckily for him, he wouldn't have to experience that utter despair this year. I would be volunteering. It was my last eligible year.

It was now or never.

10 hours later

"Move kid," I said as I shoved the boy who had just been reaped off the stage. He was a sixteen year old boy who could have stood a chance in the Hunger Games but he didn't have the talent I held. Anyway, no one in District 9 wanted to go into the Hunger Games. I was doing this guy a favour.

However, the guy didn't look too happy that I pushed him. He gritted his teeth and approached me, fists at the ready. He tackled me but I was soon able to gain control of him. I pushed him to the ground and began to beat him. It didn't take long for the peacekeepers to get involved. They came over and dragged me from the boy.

I was then forced to meet my district partener; she was still embracing the male mentor. How sappy. She finally came to the centre of the stage and faced me. She wouldn't last a minute in the Hunger Games. I could tell that she was the type of person who would just slip up somewhere and it would end in her death. Maybe she would fall on the pedestal.

I wouldn't care about her. I didn't care about anyone but myself in these games.

Let the Hunger Games begin.

Distict 10 Female

Olivia "Vicious" Visious (17 years old)

The scar was long and jagged. It ran on the inside of my left arm. It was from an accident involving a bull. I've had to run from many bulls in my lifetime. It didn't bother me, it never bothered me. I grabbed my leather jacket and pulled it on over my red top. I wasn't going for the 'fancy' look today. I was going for the 'me' look. Who wants to look fancy anyway? Most people looked like grandmas at the reapings with their ridiculous floral dresses that almost touched the floor.

I sat down at the mirror in front of me and began running a brush through my dirty blonde hair. Many people have called my hair 'gold silk with shadows'. I liked it when people called my hair that. It sounded mysterious. I carefully pulled my hair into a bun and clipped it into place. I allowed myself to study my appearance in the mirror for a moment. My eyes were always referred to as being rather odd; they appeared to be of a purple tone. I don't know where the eye colour came from, neither of my parents had it.

I stood up and walked downstairs. I wished today could be any other normal day. This time the day before, I would have been walking to work. I did enjoy work at times.

24 hours ago

I walked down the stairs in my blue one-piece uniform and gloves. I saw my father out of the corner of my eye. He was sat in the living room, reading the morning newspaper. I couldn't help but scowl every time I saw my father. Not after what he once did to me. He used to abuse me, mainly verbally and sometimes physically. It hurt me. I left the house without saying a word to him. I hated him.

I walked to the butchers and clocked in. The smell of meet and animal blood filled my nose. It had a rather odd scent to it which strangely pleased me. In the butchery, there wasn't any 'good morning' or any other form of small talk. We were just expected to get on with our work and we were just expected to know what to do. We all knew what to do. I walked over to the pens, grabbed the blind fold and chose my victim. I led the large brown cow into the slaughter room and wrapped the blindfold around its eyes. I then tied the animal to the wall, stunned it and killed it. Just like that. I did it quickly and painlessly. I was the best killer out of the butchers. I was skilled. I knew exactly where to stab the animal for a quick, effortless and painless death.

Despite how psychotic it sounds. I actually enjoyed killing the animals. It was an enjoyable past time for me. Sometimes, when I wasn't working, I would go down to the lake and kill some of the animals out their taking a swim. I would later eat them. The fact that I enjoyed killing the animals unnerved some people but I wasn't a bad person. Sometimes I thought I was just a broken person. My father did put me through a lot in my younger years.

25 hours later

That was why I knew I was ready for these games. I had already been through a lot and I was ready to get into them games and kill. I knew I could kill; I had done it enough in my lifetime.

"How fantastic is this," I said sarcastically as Noah walked into the goodbye room. He chuckled at me and closed the distance between us. He was my best male friend but I had always had feelings for him, ever since we met six years ago.

He took my hand and looked at me in the eye. "Before you go I want you to know, I like you and for when you come back, I want to be your boyfriend," he said with simplicity. A smile cracked on my lips and before I knew it, I was kissing him.

Now I had further reasons to return home. I had further reasons to live. I had a reason to kill.

District 6 Train

Kitty Trackzane (16 years old)

As I watched the reapings unfold. Two questions crossed my mind.

First of all, who seemed like killers? The one reason I thought about this was because my mentor had told me to. I tried to think about this question intently. That handsome boy from District 9 definitely appeared like a killer but I couldn't make myself think further than that. I couldn't make myself believe that any of the other tributes would kill. They didn't look like killers; they just looked like kids who had been reaped into The Hunger Games.

I closed my eyes and stood up right after the girl from District 10 had been reaped. I couldn't watch anymore. I couldn't bring myself to think of anymore children as killers. "I have to go to the bathroom," I said as I walked out of the cabin.

The second question which had been running through my head was; what were their back stories? No one went into the hunger games as a blank page. Everyone lived for a minimum of twelve years before the reapings. I wondered what happened to them in them twelve years. I thought about the boy from District 8, he seemed composed when he walked up to the stage but I could tell he was wearing a fake smile. He wasn't happy about this. He would have had friends and family, perhaps even a girlfriend. I wondered what his job was in his District. He was 18 so he would have been working.

My thoughts then moved onto his little District partner. Just thinking about her brought a pain to my chest. She reminded me of Yena, so small, so innocent. She would die in these hunger games. Her life would be cut short. She was screaming when she was reaped and I didn't blame her. She was being dragged to her death. I just wanted to run to her and hug her. A part of me wanted her as an ally but I knew my mentor would never allow such a thing. I have to be honest; she wouldn't really have helped my situation. I had to stay away from her. Well away from her.

I lay down on my bed and felt tears fill my eyes. This just wasn't fair. The capitol put the children through so much in their lives. The children had worked for them from a young age and the way they repay them? By sentencing them to death and I would be among the dead. Me alongside all of the innocent children.

Who would win? Who knew? All I knew was that it wouldn't be me. Then, I thought about my little District partner Dex, he didn't have much of chance either. He had less chance than me. I would try to stay positive for him but I knew my chances at victory were minimal.

I would try to win but I knew I couldn't.

A/N- Ah...another tribute brought in at the end. I decided she'd be a good character to look at these tributes from. If people are worried about the fairity of that, her having another POV. Don't. She'll probably end up having less POV's in the capitol, okay? Or at least a shorter POV if the POV's end up being like 1, 000 words long, one of her's will be 500, got it? Anway, question for this chapter.

Who is your favourite out of these five?