A/N: Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing and saying all these nice things. Liz and I really appreciate it when someone comments and tries to help us make us better writers.

Not only do we love it when people comment, but the submitters of the tributes you're commenting about probably appreciate seeing your input too. So thanks again :D

Enjoy District 8 :)

~ Anna

Alexa Satin, 16

District 8 Female

I focus hard at the words on the page, squinting my eyes a little. The words seem to move around on the page the more I look at them.

"Can you write what you see?" the woman beside me asks gently.

I nod hesitantly and pick up the pencil beside my paper. I glance back and forth between the words and the pencil hovering over the paper. The words appear clear the first time I look at them then slowly start scrunching together and mixing around.

I don't know why it happens, but I do know the other people in my class think I'm stupid because I can't read like them. And I don't feel that way because of self-consciousness or anything, I can just see the way they look at me. They try to hold back their amused laughs when what I read is nothing like what's on the page. I'm smarter than they think.

I blink repeatedly trying to focus my eyes on the words. Then I start to copy what I see on the paper.

The tac saw runngin trhouhg the field.

I stop, knowing it's not right. It's never right. I look at my teacher out of the corner of my eye, catching her disappointed look. She really does try to help me, but there's something wrong with me. I know I can read, and when I talk, my speech is just a little delayed, but I'm not stupid. I'm not.

"It's alright Alexa," she smiles. "You'll get it next time, see you got the last two words right."

I return her smile shyly. I appreciate everything she does for me, but I just don't think she can help me. Not with this.

"I need to go help my son get ready for the Reaping," she says quietly. "It's his first one so I need to be there."

I nod in understanding and watch her get up and take her hat from the coatrack.

"Come back early tomorrow and I'll work with you again before class." she tells me before walking out the door quickly.

I hope it wasn't me she was disappointed in. That's one of my biggest fears, disappointing the people who try to help me. I quickly dismiss the thought and close the thick reading book. I switch my gray pencil for a colored one and flip my writing paper over to a blank side.

I find the dull creaking of the ceiling fan above me calming and I start to sketch out a flower. I widen the petals and create an eccentric pattern in each one, making it slightly different than the last. When I'm finished I look at it and smile, starting to fill in the petals and patterns with color.

The old wooden clock above the door ticks loudly and I glance over at it. I've spent more time drawing than I meant to. I quickly tuck the page into one of my books and collect my colored pencils. I make sure to take the time to place them back in their case, color coding them accordingly then snap the case shut and put it on top of my books. I grab my belongings and walk out the door.

The gentle strumming of a guitar reaches my ears as soon as I step outside. I look over my shoulder, seeing one of the students leaning against the school, playing the instrument. There is a dirty tin can in front of him that he's using to collect any money someone may throw to him. The song is upbeat and the strumming is very pleasing to the ear, so I reach in my pocket and pull out a few coins.

I drop them in the can and smile at the boy who grins happily and gives me a warm nod as thanks. I recognize him as the mute boy in my class who plays his guitar on the streets for a living. I don't think he has any other way to earn money at the moment, he's probably just supporting his family.

As I turn and start walking away, I wonder if I gave him too much money. I probably didn't, my parents are very successful and manage to bring in a decent amount of money each year. My mother makes clothing for the Capitol, she's one of their best designers, and my father works with textiles in one of the biggest factories in the district.

If anyone needed the money it was that boy. My family gets plenty so I can afford to spare a few coins.

Feeling satisfied with my decision, I walk the rest of the way to my house in peace. I open the front door and place my box of colored pencils on the table and look around.

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and glance over. It's my sister, Yvette, all dressed up in her beautiful Reaping dress.

"Hey Alexa," she smiles happily. "How did your lesson go?"

I shrug and lean back on the table.

"Like the others," I say. "I got the last two words spelled right though."

Yvette gives me a hopeful look and hugs me.

"Well, a little improvement is better than no improvement." she says.

I nod a little awkwardly, confused by her enthusiasm. She's usually not this happy. Then again, she's 18 and it's her last Reaping Day. I too would feel relieved if it was my last year having to go through the Reaping. Though, I don't have the heart to tell her that she could still get chosen, after all her name is in there more than anyone else in my family. Especially since she started to take out tesserae.

Instead I try to act as happy as she and return her hug.

"Where are mom and dad?" I ask, looking around.

Yvette gestures to the stairs.

"They're upstairs getting ready, Brody is too."

Yvette moves to the table and flips through my sketchbook, admiring the drawings. While she does that, I walk upstairs and into the room I share with my twin brother.

Normally he would be in a separate room and Yvette and I would share, but I have a stronger bond with my brother. My parents say it's a twin thing. That and Yvette can become unbearable annoying, all she ever talks about is her latest crush.

If she's not talking about that, then she's trying to fill my head with useful strategies and things in case I or Brody ever got Reaped. On occasion she'd even try to teach me to throw a knife, something she taught herself to do as well. Believe it or not I have decent aim, something that made Yvette feel a little better.

"Alexa?" my brother asks.

I blink and turn red with embarrassment, realizing that he's been trying to get my attention.

"Hey, sorry," I say shaking my head and moving to my closet.

"You zoned out there for a second," he says. "Is something bothering you?"

I shake my head and settle on a bright yellow dress with a lacy flower on it. A dress that my mother made herself. I pull off my sneakers and take out a pair of comfortable flats.

"Are you almost done so I can get ready?" I ask, glancing at him as he combs his wavy chestnut hair.

He ignores me and slicks his hair back then turns to me.

"Now I'm done," he says putting the comb down. "You need to learn some patience."

I scowl as he smirks teasingly and walks out the door, closing it behind him. I pull the dress on over my head and smooth out the wrinkles then slip my feet into the shoes. I wiggle my toes uncomfortably. The shoes are a bit small, and although they're nice, I'll probably have to get new ones for next year.

I pick up my own brush, feeling something unpleasantly slimy and look down at my hand. Brody's hair gel is all over my brush. I huff in annoyance and wipe the brush on his nice dress jacket he'll be wearing to dinner after the Reaping. I then brush my hair out and try not to smirk.

I decide to leave my hair down the way it is, but use the brush to flip it up a little so it lays on my shoulders nice. I set the brush down and walk out of my room.

I hear my parents by the door and jog down the stairs where I find them waiting with Brody and Yvette. My father's face is still a little dirty from coming right from the factory, and he looks a little worried, like my mother.

But the two conceal their worry and stay happy, walking out the door first.

Dye Rollins, 15

District 8 Male

I grab my hat tiredly from the rack and put it on. I walk over to the door and lean on the wall, heaving my work bag over my shoulder. A few other workers pass me, giving me hardy slaps on the back and nods goodbye. I smile to each of them and shake their hands as I wait for my step-father.

I spot him lingering by the machines, talking to a female co-worker. I watch them carefully, feeling a bit of distrust, but shrug the feeling off. I know my new father is a kind, honest man, nothing like the man who got my mom pregnant when she was 17 and left. Luckily, I never had to meet him.

Still, I make sure my step-father, Twyer, isn't doing anything that warrants an interruption of his chat with the woman. After a few more moments, my father and the lady start to walk to the door together.

I quickly move to the door and hold it open for the woman as she passes.

"Thank you, Dye." she says with a smile.

I politely smile back when she walks out, my gaze lingering on her for a moment. Then I glance at my father who walks out of the factory beside me. He places a hand on my shoulder and gives me a proud smile.

"She's only a friend of your mother's," he says quickly. "You don't have to worry."

I look down out of slight embarrassment. Was my suspicion really that noticeable? I really hope that the woman didn't notice as well, I'd hate to have made her feel bad or anything.

Twyer gives a small laugh and walks beside me. His face looks worn and tired, so I offer to carry his work bag as well.

"No," he sighs tiredly. "That's alright Dye."

I decide to take his bag from him anyway, despite his protests. I don't have to work as hard as he does in the factory since I'm a little too young to operate some of the machines. He deserves a break after his hard work. It's not like I really have a problem carrying the bags, they're not too heavy and I'm strong enough to carry both.

We walk in silence to our house, even though I occasionally attempt to start up a conversation along the way. Sometimes it feels like he's just a co-worker and not my new father. I wonder if he favors my five year old step-sister Paylor over me. It wouldn't really surprise me if he did, after all Paylor is his actual child, not me.

I glance up from where I was staring at the ground to find my fragile looking mother and Paylor waiting on the steps of our house. Paylor is playing with my mother's long hair, twirling it around her finger then sees us. Her face brightens and he leaps out of my mother's arms and bounds into my step-father's.

"Twyer," my mother says quietly, getting up to hug my step-father.

Twyer puts Paylor down on the ground and hugs my mother.

"How was work?" she asks, moving away from Twyer to hug me as well.

I hug her back, smiling.

"It was fine," I respond. "Loud, tiring, the usual."

My mother cracks a smile which makes me happy since she hasn't been smiling much the past few days. I can't help but wonder if it's because of the Reaping. I really hope it's not that because I don't want her to worry, not for me. If I cause someone worry it just makes me feel guilty.

I glance down at Paylor, who's dressed up all nice. I smile and kneel down in front of her.

"Why are you all dressed up?" I ask, smiling teasingly. "Do you have your eyes on a boy or something?"

Paylor laughs then makes a face, leaning on my legs.

"Ew no!" she says. "I don't like boys. In fact, I don't like anyone!"

I laugh and look up at my mother.

"But don't you like mom?" I ask curiously.

Paylor narrows her eyes at me like I just played a dirty trick on her, then glances up at my mom and sighs.

"She's alright," she jokes.

Even Twyer and my mother laugh at that one. I stand up stiffly, stretching my sore legs then sigh with relief when I drop the bags down in front of the door. I glance back at Twyer and my mother, feeling happy that they're so content with each other, then I walk inside and into the kitchen. I grab an apple from the bowl of fruit my mother set out and lean on the table.

The smell of rotting wood coming from my house would normally take away my appetite, but I'm hungry from working all day. I take a bite of the juicy apple and smile.

This month Twyer got a raise and my mother could afford to buy fruit and some things for more decent meals. I feel like I may even be more grateful for that than Twyer is.

I finish the apple in a few quick bites then curiously glance over at the projector. I walk over and sit down in one of our creaky chairs, then switch it on. Caesar Flickerman's face fills the screen.

They're already showing some of the Reapings. I think I'll watch and start evaluating the tributes, just in case. They're on District 5 already, so I'm slightly disappointed that I didn't get to see the career districts those are the guys to look out for.

The tributes for 5 look pretty average, though the girl is struggling to not cry, I feel so bad for her. I hate it when people cry. But the fact that she pulls herself together pleases me, maybe she'll impress the Captiol too. Then she can get sponsors. My heart also goes out to the boy who was chosen. He has to be pulled away from someone who looks just look him. Twins. That's always the worst.

District 6 is up next and the small 13 year old girl who almost passes out doesn't make me feel any better. Another young tribute. The boy gets chosen, but he doesn't cry, he barely even shows any emotion. But as he stands next to the escort he face twists into a scowl. He's mad.

They don't show anything else and skip right to District 7. Both tributes don't cry, they're determined, confident. Almost like a career would be. But District 7 typically is pretty good. They can do about as good as the career districts. The girl is really pretty, and the boy hardly shows any emotion at all. I can't tell what he's feeling or thinking, and that frightens me a little bit. If he did that on purpose it was a smart move.

If I ever got Reaped I'd try not to cry, if you cry you're dismissed as weak, simple as that. Looking weak is something you can't afford in the Games.

I continue watching the screen but no other Reapings come on, that's because my district is next. I feel a wave of nervousness crash into me and I quickly switch off the projector. Maybe eating that apple right before the Reaping wasn't such a fantastic idea.

I stand and walk to my room, putting on the Reaping clothes my mother set out for me. I look nice for once, and I can only thank my mother for that. I look into the mirror and straighten my jacket then turn and walk outside. I can only hope that I'm able to watch the rest of the Reapings from my home and not from a train.

I find my family right where I left them, talking quietly in the shade. They glance over and me and stand, trying to smile. I'm surprised that Twyer decides to just go right from work to the square without changing into new clothes or anything, but I guess that's just his style.

My mother looks a bit nicer with a raggedy, faded red dress and some nice shoes. Surprisingly Paylor looks the sharpest out of all of us.

I walk over to them, a little bothered that I don't really have anything to say. We walk to the square, walking close together and for the first time we actually feel like a real family. Paylor skips a little bit ahead of us, humming a little, while my mother and Twyer remain as silent as me.

I get signed in but don't go off to find my friends. I decide to stay with my family near the back, after all my mother looks terrified and I want to be there for her.

Alexa Satin, 16

District 8 Female

I walk beside Yvette, barely even really listening to what she's talking about. She's rambling on about her new friends and this boy named Raymond or someone. Don't get me wrong, I love Yvette and how extroverted she is. She can make friends so easily and I'm happy for that, but I'm like her polar opposite.

I'm pretty introverted, antisocial you could say. It's not that I don't like people, I just don't interact with them well. They all think I'm dumb anyway. So, why would I waste my time on someone who only pretends to like me?

Yvette finally stops talking when we go to sign-in, smiling kindly at the Peacekeeper who pricks her finger. The Peacekeeper gives her an unsure look, but gives a kind of half-smile anyway, then waves her on. I wince when the Peacekeeper sticks my finger but then walk in behind Yvette. For me, the worst part is over.

Signing in always freaked me out a little bit. I hate the way they have to prick your finger with that thing. I turn around to talk with Yvette before the Reaping starts but she's gone. I look around and spot her with a large group of people, talking excitedly. I sigh. I should have known she'd chose her friends over me. She always does.

But I bury my disappointment and instead decide to stand by Brody. He acknowledges me with a smile then continues to talk with his friends until the escort comes on stage.

I quickly hurry to my spot, not bothering to say goodbye to Brody and stand silently. There's nervous murmuring as the escort welcomes us and plays the video. I don't really have anyone to talk to, unlike everyone else around me. I look through all the faces and see if I can recognize just one, but I don't. I guess I'm just fine on my own.

The video ends and the escort smiles happily, gripping the microphone.

"I love that video!" she squeaks, talking a little too loud.

She receives some feedback from the microphone and let's out a tiny: "Whoopsie!" then steps back a little. She gives a laugh then continues her bright smiling.

"Let's get on with choosing our first tribute!" she announces, stepping away from the microphone.

I clench my fists tightly, since I don't have a hand to hold or a friend to talk to and watch as she picks a name from the bowl. She walks back over to the microphone and unfolds the paper.

"And our brave young lady is... Alexa Satin!"

Dye Rollins, 15

District 8 Male

The frightened 16 year old stares ahead blankly as she very hesitantly walks out of her section. Her wide blue eyes are filled with confusion and fear, but she doesn't cry.

She walks up to the stage, her fists clenched tightly. I can see her knuckles turning white and I hope she doesn't hurt herself. The escort congratulates the girl but she's too stunned to even hear it.

I watch sadly as she continues the fight with her emotions, wondering how she keep herself so composed. The escort moves away from the microphone and to the boy's bowl.

I know I'd not be able to control myself if I were Reaped. Not like that. How can she possibly be so calm about having her name chosen? But my curiousness toward the girl fades when I hear the name echo like thunder through the square.

No.. No.

My name.

The words are like knives being stabbed into my heart. There's a pain in my chest and I feel suddenly heavy. Although the tears I would have expected don't come. I'm just completely numb.

I vaguely feel the Peacekeepers grab me and guide me up to the stage, making sure I don't fall flat on my face as I try to climb the stairs. I stumble a bit and sway as I stand by the escort. I don't feel anything but the fuzziness in my head and the dull pain in my chest.

The escort announces our names one more time and I turn to face my district partner. I look right into her wide, doe-like eyes and shake her hand reassuringly. She's scared I can see it. Even though I'm scared as well, I want to make her feel better.

Seeing someone look so distressed and terrified makes me wish I could do more to help.

Alexa Satin, 16

District 8 Female

I surprised myself. I actually held it together.

I take a few more calming breaths, all I need to do is make it to the train without showing any sign that I've cried. I can cry all I want on the train ride to the Capitol.

I wish desperately for my sketch book. Drawing something always helped me calm down and take my mind off of my worries. Even just a pen would be fine, I've drawn on my hand before.

The door swings open behind me and shuts. I turn around quickly and run into the arms of my father. Yvette is crying on my mother's shoulder while Brody stands by the door looking horrified. I want to stay with them all.

The Capitol can't just do this! I have a life here, a family! They're taking everything from me.

I bite my lip, willing myself not to cry. I need to keep it together, I've gotten this far without crying I can't now. So I just hold onto my father, afraid that if I let go of him, I'll start to cry.

He starts pulling away from me but I hold on to him tighter until I'm sure I won't cry once he lets go. My mother wedges herself in between my father and I and hugs me tightly, stroking my hair gently. Yvette watches with tear-filled eyes and Brody starts to cry silently. I close my eyes. I can't look at them like that. I can't.

My mother lets Yvette and Brody have a turn hugging me and we stay like that in silence. I'm worried that they're not saying anything, not encouraging me. Do they not think that I can do it? Yvette has taught me to throw a knife, to defend myself, and I have my own strong will. On second thought, I don't need their encouragement when I know that I can.

I'll show them I can.

"Alexa, remember the things I taught you." Yvette says quietly, her enthusiasm long gone.

Brody nods and steps away from me. Yvette still holds on to me.

"You're not just my sister, Alexa." Yvette tells me. "You're my best friend, you're always there for me. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

I hug my sister tighter. No. Don't cry. I won't. Cry. Yvette was there for me, she just didn't realize it because she had so many other friends too. Maybe in her standards she wasn't there for me enough, but in my standards, she's always there. I open my eyes again and smile at Brody, who rubs his eyes to conceal his own tears.

"I promise you, I'll try to win," I say, stepping away from my sister. "I can do this."

Yvette looks at her feet then her eyes flick back up to me. She smiles tearfully and nods.

"I know you can."

My mother clings to my father's shoulder, trying not to cry.

Then the Peacekeepers come in and lead my family out. Luckily, none of them try to fight the Peacekeepers, that would only have caused problems.

And it would only have caused me to finally cry.

Dye Rollins, 15

District 8 Male

The initial shock of my name being called begins to wear off and I sit down in one the chairs, sighing shakily. What was supposed to be a calming breath ends up as a choked sob and I quickly bury my face in the pillow. I sit there, trying to quiet my crying, not even hearing the door open.

I only feel a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me to my feet. Judging by the strength of the hug I guess that it's Twyer. I open my eyes, using my sleeve to dry them and glance up. It is Twyer. He hugged me first, and it actually felt like he cared.

Paylor clings to my sobbing mother's leg, looking scared and confused. The poor guy probably doesn't even understand what's happening. My mother pries Paylor off her leg then hurries over to me, practically flinging herself into my arms. I cry about as much as she does, and I know it might seem pathetic to the careers, or to the Capitol. But it's not to me.

I love my family, and I don't want to leave them. I want so desperately to stay with them, we were just starting to become a family.

"Dye, you're an amazing boy," Twyer begins, startling me slightly. "You can do anything if you put your mind to it."

My mother nods in agreement, her face looking completely broken.

"Please stay safe, Dye," she chokes out. "For me. Stay safe."

I nod, trying to stop my own crying and finally do. I need to stay tough. I know that I won't get sponsors if I can't keep myself together. I need to shape up. I pull away from my mother then kneel down to hug Paylor.

"Where are you going, Dye?" Paylor asks me quietly.

She's so innocent. I can't tell her the truth, I'll let my parents take care of that.

"I'm just going away for a little bit, I'll be back soon though." I tell her, fighting back my own tears.

She smiles and hugs me.

"Okay, as long as you're coming back." she says, wiping away her tears.

I stand once the Peacekeepers come in and watch them escort my parents out. Paylor looks back at me, still looking confused about the whole situation. But for her I need to return, for my mother who will have lost me and my real father. And for Twyer, for being the father I never had.

Not coming home isn't an option.

What do you get when you put two writers together in the same room for an entire day? Two updates in one day.

What did you think?

Thoughts on Alexa?

Dye?

What do you think of Alexa's disability? Do you think it just makes her more determined to succeed?

Is Dye too nice for his own good?

XD Thank you all for reading and reviewing and being awesome. District 9 will also probably be up pretty quick because Liz already started on it before. So, you'll be seeing the next update probably tomorrow :D

Have a happy day!

~ Anna ^_^