District 6; Gauze, aged 14
I have no last name. I wasn't given one by the orphanage. They say that we don't deserve it. We're just workers, made for the amazing Capitol, to make their transport. We should be grateful, we have food, water and shelter, provided by the oh-so-wonderful Capitol. But, I feel the exact opposite. All I feel for the 'brilliant' Capitol is hatred. My lips must have curved up in a smile of malice, because I'm getting some odd looks thrown my way. Everyone else here is so dimwitted they think our amazing Capitol is just that. They don't see that the pretty colours mask the bloodlust, the beautiful buildings hide the poverty. If they spent a fraction of what they spend on building a house in the Capitol on the districts, we'd be fed for months. Not months, years. And they wondered why we've had 2 rebellions.
As I am pushed into bed that night, the small room goes dark, and I get scared. I've been frightened of the dark since I was, well, since I ever remember. I hate the shapes it casts; they remind me of mutts from the Games. I'd never survive them. To make myself feel safer, I pull out the dagger from beneath my pillow, and plunge it into the wall. I will never be killed by some mutt. Or the dark.
I stand, my hand brushing the dagger in the small pocket my dress has. I always like to keep a dagger about my person, because, well, you never know when your going to be attacked. The escort comes up to the stage. He's so normal compared to the others. He has natural cropped brown hair, thick rimmed glasses, and piercing blue eyes. The only Capitol enhancements are some tattoos on his face and a nose piercing. Still, he looks cool. Also, he hates the Games. You can see it in the depths of his eyes, the hatred, the remorse. He obviously just does it for the money. Sending 2 kids to their deaths every year can't be fun. He hurriedly picks a name, not wanting to prolong the agony, and says "Gauze... where's the last name?" I walk up, and say to him "I don't have one." I'm going to die.
District 6; Fegan Ethinan, age 12
I nibble anxiously at my breakfast. Ever since my brother died in the Games, my parents have treated me so well. They're making up for the fact they lost their first-born to the Games. I can tell that they don't really love me. They just pretend I'm Tray, to make them feel better. I want to go into the Games, whether I win or lose. And I can't believe I just thought that. I don't want to go in the Games. I want to live a long life that's not plagued by nightmares. That's not about the children I murdered with my own hands. I look at my parents worried faces and decide my fate. I am going to go into the Games.
It's probably weird, that at my first reaping I am going to volunteer. I dress in my best, then I go and call for my friends Boo, Cray, and Skay. They know I'm volunteering, and that I won't be coming back. I know how to survive, how to make traps, how to use a slingshot, and I know how to use a knife, to cut people up, but not to throw. But I can't do heavy lifting, or use swords, or basically, any fighting. I can't even climb trees. I'd probably be a bloodbath. But they understand me. I opened up, said my parents think I'm Tray, and they know I need to stand out. I can't just be their first-born. I'm Fegan, and I'm the second born, and I am my own, unique person.
The girls been picked. She's cocky; I'll give her that. The escort, Shine I believe his name was, looked uncomfortable. I smirk, glad to know that even Capitolites have feelings, even if they are vague ones. He reads the males name, a 14 year old who bursts into tears. I volunteer, then sprint up to the stage, showcasing my agility. The whole district gasps, seeing me volunteer. I'm 12 years old, and have no chance. Well, get ready. Fegan Ethinan is going to be a contender in these Games, whether the Capitol knows it or not.
A/N Hi guys. I just want you to know, as a slight twist, if you put bloodbath on your form, it doesn't mean they will be a bloodbath, and if you don't want them to be, well, they could be. You never know... mwahahahahah. By the way, NO MORE TRIBUTES NEEDED.. Unless they're the small tributes.