Citrus 'Citt' Kordel (D11M, 15)

Smoke fills the air, but I don't cough or cover my mouth. Orange yellow flames fence before my eyes casting a series of dancing shadows on the charred walls. I can barely see in front of me, the smoke is so thick, but I don't care. All I can pay attention to is the fire. My neighbor's house had an 'accidental' spark form, making the whole cottage burst into flames. My older brother, who is eighteen, and being the helpful guy he is, ran inside as soon as she saw the ominous column of smoke rising through the burnt holes in the roof. I know that his intention was to end this beautiful show of flame. He has to be stopped, I don't want the fire to go away. So when he is in the bedroom, I rush through a narrow strip of hardwood still spared by the fire. Taking a skeleton key, fashioned from a copper scrap of wire, I boot the door and shove as much furniture a four year old can lift and put in front of the cream colored door. I hear frantic pounding from the other side and smile a sick twisted grin. As I crawl out from a window, I hear a rumble and then a crash. I stand back in awe as the entire cottage collapses inwardly with a bang. I know at that moment that neither my brother or the neighbors survived the inferno. Even though I didn't mean for anyone to die by the spark of my match, but yet I am satisfied by the destruction. No one ever found out that it was me who caused them to die, and it will stay that way. For now.

That was my glory day. The day when I truly figured out what my best friend is, fire. It is my only love and my forever companion. Some people call me crazy, some even a psychopath, and I agree. They're right. But I can hide it if I truly want to. But that time is over. I'm volunteering for the Hunger Games this year, not only am I tired of the mundane life in Eleven, but also because I win burn every tribute in the arena. These games are mine! I will fight fire with fire, as they say, but I will win with fire, too.

I spent all morning playing with my dearest flames, preparing myself mentally for the reaping. I throw on a black t shirt and black jeans, complementing my tan skin. I brush my brown hair out of my copper colored eyes and gaze at myself in the grimy mirror. I'm small for a fifteen year old, just over eighty pounds and five feet tall. But my strong point isn't physical strength or weapons. My sword is a blade made from fire. Taking one last smile that would send chills down any sane person, I make my way to the town center for the moment that will change my life.

Robyn Holmwood (D11F, 17)

"Robyn, come on down! We've got presents!" my mom calls down in a sweet voice. Well, should I say, adoptive mom. Mom is always buying me presents, I guess it's just something to make up for me never knowing my real mother.

"Coming!" I have known that I was adopted ever since I was six years old, but I never really minded. I belong to a family who loves me and cares for me. My mom and dad are loving and kind to me and despite my brother's intimidating acts, he is my best friend.

Before going downstairs, I throw on a plain modest brown dress with a few worn patches sewn to cover up the tears. I take a wooden hair brush and run it through my shoulder length wavy blond hair, struggling with a few snags and tangles but finally getting it to be a silky smooth. I can't afford makeup, but my eyes give enough brilliance to my pale features. I have an uncommon appearance for District Eleven, with light skin and sparking green eyes, but I'm alright with a little different.

As I walk downstairs, I'm greeted by my parents and brother, who where all gathered in a semi circle at the bottom of the stairs. In mom's small hand, is a light pearly colored box, about the size of an apple.

"This is for you, Robyn. I got it for you in town, it reminded me of you," my dad smiles at me, his dark brown eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Thanks!" I gratefully smile as I take the box in my hands and open it. My eyes widen in awe at the pure beauty of the gift inside. My hands shaking, I pull out a necklace on a shining silver chain. In the center is a cute pendant with four words printed in a graceful cursive script, 'You are always loved'. I beam up at them but then my smile falters briefly.

"It's beautiful, but how did you afford it?" My family isn't poor, but we aren't rich, either. This necklace must have cost a fortune.

"We've been saving for a while now for the perfect gift for your second to last Reaping. I've put in some extra hours at the field and your mom helped overtime in the packing center,'' dad reassures me. I am flattered by their kindness, but also sad at the fact that they worked extra hours just to get me this beautiful necklace.

" Alright, now how about you out on your necklace and let's head to the Reapings," mom smiles, trying to make the grim event sound somewhat desirable. I tuck my hair out of the way and clasp on my new jewels. The shining silver contrasts with the drab dress, almost in a comical way. One part shows luxury, the other shows reality. Either way, I feel like a princess.

Lavender Frost (D11 escort)

It's the best time of the year, again! Oh, I'm so excited to pick out the tributes for District Eleven! I smooth out my long light blue hair so that not a strand is out of place. I roll my shoulders back in total confidence that I look absolutely amazing. One of the top stylists did my makeup so I am confident that my eyeliner, shadow, and mascara will make my ice blue eyes pop, as usual. I take my last name 'Frost' very seriously. I only wear blues and silvers and my skin is a Capitol pale, and of course, no one can forget my blue eyes and hair.

Taking a deep breath, I snap at the cameraman, a nerdy looking bald guy in his forties, and strut my way out to the stage. I am less than thrilled at the enthusiasm of the district, or should I say lack thereof. But I ignore them for now, knowing that someday, I'll have more important crowds cheering me on.

"Good day, District Eleven and happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!" I trill in a voice which sometimes reminds me of a gameshow host.

"First off, I will be choosing the name of our lucky girl!" I exclaim as I go over to the glass sphere and choose a single slip of parchment. As I read it, I nod in agreement. Pretty name.

"Robyn Holmwood!" I cheer. A tall girl steps from the seventeen year old section. I really am shocked at her height, she's almost six feet. She seems to be doing alright at first with keeping her self together. But, with each step she takes, I see her slipping into despair. There are a few glistening streams of tears coming from her green eyes. I take her pale hand as she steps up onto the stage and stands on my left side.

"And now for the boys!" I cheer as I draw the boy name, this time more rushed. Not hesitating, I begin to read,

"I volunteer," an eerie voice giggles from the fifteen year olds. I toss the paper aside and gaze at the source of the voice that sent chills down my spine. As the small boy gets closer, his giggle grows into a crazy laughter, making me tense with fear. I'm getting a vibe that its kid isn't right in the head. Before I can ask him what his name is, he creeps towards me and holds me in an awkward embrace. Not knowing what to do, I just sort of stand there, waiting for it to be finished. When he is done with me, he goes to Robyn and hugs her as well. I can see her stiffen at his contact. When he brakes away, he slowly steps up to the microphone and eerily whispers.

"I am Citrus Kordel and I will burn them all."

Holy crap, that was the creepiest thing I have ever heard. I see the entire district flinch as he stared down at all of them and then stands next to me as if nothing has happened. As the two of them shake hands awkwardly, I quickly rush offstage, not wanting to be around this pyromaniac any longer.

Krisha Holmwood (Robyn's adoptive mother)

Seeing Robyn on that stage was hard enough for me to face. My poor baby will have to go into the games. I was heartbroken as it was, until I watched the recap of the other districts and noticed something that made my heart stop.

There, in District One, the seventeen year old girl who bore an eerie resemblance to Robyn. They have the same blonde hair, green eyes and tall height. Seanna Vipond. Could it be?

When Robyn's mother had her, I had heard rumors of a twin sister, who had been adopted by a wealthy family in District One. I had never known that they were true though. All I know now is that Robyn is going into the games with her sister, Seanna Vipond, and she didn't even know it.

A/N

Thanks Dustystroodle228 for Robyn, LokiThisIsMadness for Citt, and Mintiecool1 for Lavender. What did you think about Citt's fire? Seanna and Robyn being sisters? Citt's creepy volunteering? Who was your favorite?

Trivia: Who plays Finnick Odair in the movies?

Thanks and please review!

Angelofmusic4ever