Ashrifah Keyaut, 16, District 5 Female
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
I continued to smack my sword into the side of the dummy I was currently shredding to pieces, savouring the feeling of destroying this pathetic piece of burlap and sand. The sand inside of the dummy steadily leaked out of the sides where I had sliced through it, until the bag finally gave way and ripped in half, all of the sand crashing down onto the floor of the guest room that I had used for fighting skills.
Panting, I put my sword down in happiness, and surveyed the chaos I had inflicted onto my training area. Everything looked happily demolished, from the shredded dummies to the wrestling mat where I had practised hand to hand combat with my mother. I grinned and walked out of the room. I had done enough volunteer training for today.
Most people would baulk at the idea of volunteering for a death game, but I wasn't one of those kinds of people. I had fallen in love with the idea of volunteering for the Hunger Games ever since I was a little girl, and nothing would stop me from fulfilling my dream of becoming a volunteer.
I peered around the corner of the living room, trying to catch a glimpse of the television. Mummy and Daddy had shooed me away once again, saying that the show was only for grownups, but I, at the rebellious age of six, took that as a challenge to watch. I crept into the room, watching out for the toy train I had left behind the couch, and tiptoed around the peacekeeper helmet Daddy had tossed behind the couch. I peeked over the couch, making sure that I could see the television screen without being spotted, and saw the sight of a child, just a bit older than my cousins, running through the forest. I held my breath as he raced around some trees, trying to get away from a big, enormous bear that was chasing him. I squealed with delight as the boy fell to the ground, screaming in agony as the bear ripped into his insides.
I could have gotten away, I thought as I crept out of the room, making sure to not wake up Daddy from the nap he always took when he came home, while Mummy quickly flipped to a government channel. Ever since she started working in the Capitol, Mummy always wanted to watch the president give a speech. At least the president had nice red hair. I would rather like to have red hair.
I walked into the living room, picking up the sweater I had left draped over the couch so that I could go for a brisk run through the neighbourhood. I always ran a couple of miles every day, and the fact that today was a reaping day wouldn't stop me.
I slipped on the sweater and tied my shoes up, ready to head out of the door for my run. I quickly checked the time on the clock that hung in our living room. 7:30 am. Enough time for a two-miler, and then still more than enough to take a quick shower, change, and walk to the reaping with my Father.
I jogged out of the door, closing it carefully behind me so that it would lock automatically. You could never be too sure of your home security in District 5, even though we lived in a richer neighbourhood.
I turned onto the street, jogging through the waking district. No one would be out yet, which was what I liked best when I went for a run. They were all too nervous about the reapings. They would be hugging their children, biting their nails nervously, and weeping openly as they got ready for the reapings. The fools. They had no idea that I would volunteer, but not to bring honour to the district. I would become the greatest fighter in the history of the entire Games.
I ran down the street, after my father, panting as my seven-year-old legs strained to keep up with him. "Wait up!" I cried, sprinting as he laughed at me.
He stopped and waited for me to catch up, ruffling my hair with pride as I ran into his arms. "Hello, my beautiful, precious girl! What would you like for your birthday?"
"I want to be on TV like the boys and girls who go into the woods every summer! Could you let me do that? Please? Please?"
My father suddenly stiffened, gripping me more tightly as he looked at me worriedly. I squirmed to get out of his grasp, crying out loud at the pain of his grip. "Look, Ashrifah, you know that I would let you do anything in the world, but I'm not able to let you go on TV yet. After all, don't you want to stay here with me and Mom? We can have more fun here, and maybe I'll let you come on some trips with me to District 2! Your mother could even bring you to the Capitol, of all places! But I don't want you to go on TV. You're too young for that."
I didn't speak to my father for a month. How dare he stop me from doing what I wanted? It was my birthday, after all! All of the kids at school said that you could do anything you wanted on your birthday!
Sure enough, however, my mother heartily agreed when I complained about what my father had said, and she secretly bought me some toy swords and axes that Capitolite children played with. They were replaced with real ones within the month.
I had secretly gotten better throughout the years, training, fighting, and watching the Games with a passion. The Capitol was wondrous to have made the ultimate battleground, one for me to whet my sword upon! I would show them all. I would make the name Ashrifah Keyaut go down in history. All of the others would have to watch out for me, the best of all of them by far.
I suddenly stopped, my watch frantically beeping.
Dang! I ran too far! Better sprint back to the house…
Wyatt Blink-Box, 14, District 5 Male
I bent down onto the ground, trying to figure out the best way to connect the wires to the Tesla coil that I was trying to make. If all went well, I would be able to destroy every hearing aid in the vicinity and help myself become an even greater inventor. If only I could invent something to help me make some friends…
I kept moving the wires to different outlets in the transformer, trying to make sure that all of them were perfectly positioned. I had positioned the plywood perfectly in the structure, had added the supporting coil, and added all of the capacitors in their proper place. All I needed was to make sure that the electricity was running the correct way through my tesla coil, and I would be able to make it work.
I re-adjusted the thick, fluffy cooking gloves that I was wearing for the experiment, the insulators for my hands in case something went wrong with the electricity in the Tesla coil. I didn't need to suddenly explode this experiment in my parent's garage. The kids at school would find that way too funny for my liking.
I positioned one of the wires into the outlet and crossed my fingers as the coil started to hum. Suddenly, a flash of electricity leapt out of the coil. I yelled in excitement as the lights in the garage suddenly went off, leaving me in total darkness. The Tesla coil continued to spark, bolts of electricity leaping off of it all around the garage. I yelped a little as one came close to me, but I knew that it wouldn't reach me in the end. The Tesla coil might be strong enough to break the electric circuit of the lights in the garage, but the electric bolts never could get long enough to reach me.
"Wyatt! If you don't get the lights in the house back on this instant, you won't be receiving your allowance for the next week!" my mother hollered at me, opening the garage door to reveal darkness inside the house. I flicked off the power switch and ran to the side of the garage.
"We just need to turn on the power again!" I said, flicking all of the switches in our power box off before turning them on again. As soon as I did that, the lights flickered, then turned on again for good.
"There! It's as good as new!" I said, grinning at my mom before breaking out into a laugh. Most people said that my laugh was really annoying and if I didn't stop laughing in the next couple of seconds they would punch me in the face, but I didn't care. It was my scientist's laugh and, happily to me, it would go down in history when I became known as the smartest person in District 5.
I walked out of the garage, happy to know that my experiment was finally a success. Usually, the experiment I was working on exploded, failed, or just didn't turn on at all. When I tried to make a lie detector last year, it took three hours before Mom dragged me away from it so that I could finally eat supper.
I entered the house, looking at the back of my mom disappearing into the kitchen. Mom always started to cook up a storm when she was nervous, and today proved no exception for her tendencies. I could smell the delicious scent of fried doughnuts wafting out of the doorway. Oh dear. Mom always cooked high-calorie foods when she was really nervous. Dad would have to take a while to comfort her and lower her stress levels, or she might faint during the reapings.
I came into the kitchen, grabbing my coat from the tidy coat hooks that my Mom fastidiously kept in the house. Even though she could be really relaxed about things, and could let some things go, she could never abide a messy house, and thus my experiments always had to be cleaned up in 24 hours after their completion… or else.
"Hey, Mom! I'm going to start to walk to the reapings! I'll try to get there quickly. I'll see you after they're over!" I said, waving goodbye to Mom. She started to mutter into the deep fryer, and I quickly walked out of the door. Whenever I listened to their conversations at night - I was experimenting with listening devices at those times - Mom was always talking about how it was a shame that kids were so used to the Hunger Games. Personally, I didn't know how I felt about them. Sure, they killed kids, but they never had actually affected me. And from my experiences, no one ever actually made a lot of fuss about something until they were directly affected by it. Mom had a couple of close friends who knew kids that had been reaped, so I hypothesized that was the reason that was why she was so opinionated about the Games. But until someone I knew or myself was reaped, I would never take a side in an argument about the Hunger Games.
I saw some kids from my school and hurried up my pace to catch up with them. Maybe they had some opinions about the Games that would strengthen my hypothesis!
"Hey, guys!" I said as I scurried up to them, panting as I tried to catch my breath. "Any of you know people who have been reaped in the Games before?
"Get away, you idiot!" one of the older boys yelled, holding a sobbing girl in his arms. "Don't you have any sense of decency? Poor Hannah had her little sister reaped three years ago! Go away and annoy someone who hasn't lost a friend to the Games!"
I nodded and walked off, marking down the reaction on a piece of paper. Even though they may have thought that they had gotten rid of me, they had only helped strengthen my hypothesis. Truly you only cared about the Games once you lost someone to them that you knew. Now, where were those other kids in my class? We were having a very interesting conversation about the similarities between me and dirt the last time I saw them!
Ashrifah Keyaut, 16, District 5 Female
I bounced on the balls of my heels impatiently, waiting for our escort Flavia to come onto the stage. The mayor was taking an unnecessarily long amount of time to finish the Treaty of Treason, and I was getting impatient. I wanted to volunteer so badly, I felt like spitting the words out of my mouth this instant. But, I had to at least wait until Flavia drew the girl's reaping slip. Then, I could yell the words "I volunteer as tribute!" to my heart's content. And then, I could all of my dreams come true, no matter what anyone thought of me. I would become a victor for the District of 5.
I watched the mayor finally finish the speech and gather up the many, many pieces of paper that were contained in it, dropping a couple of them and bending down to grab them along the way. Soon enough, however, he managed to make his way off of the stage, Flavia heaving a sigh of relief as she walked to the microphone.
"Hello, citizens of District 5! I don't care as much about all of you as I do my paycheque, so I'm just going to draw the slips quickly and do the regular drill, yadda yadda yadda. OK, I've said enough for your painfully excited ears. Let's go kill some tributes!"
I was surprised by the obviously bored attitude of Flavia, but she had never been the most normal escort. The first time she had come to District 5, she had blown a chemical kit up in an attempt to connect with us, and after that had dressed up in a chemist's lab coat and made her hair look like it had been touched by static electricity. She was fiercely loyal to the district, but just like the rest of us, she hated talking before the reapings. So, she skipped over the formalities, and that was just fine with all of us.
Flavia walked to the front of the stage again and walked to the big reaping bowl for the female tributes. She smiled brightly, but the microphone was able to pick up the words she was muttering under her breath.
"Why on Panem are there this many slips of paper? Hasn't Panem ever heard of environmentalism? I'll have to have a word with Fiammetta when I get back to the Capitol."
Flavia smiled brightly again, picking a couple of slips paper from out of the bowl. She looked at two of them, dropped the rest, before dropping one of the two back into the bowl. She took the other slip and started to open it. Then, she accidentally dropped and, cursing under her breath just loud enough for the microphone to pick it up, she grabbed a different one. "Elena Cul-"
"I volunteer as tribute!" I screamed, running up onto the stage and growling at the audience. Who gave anything about what they thought of me? What was important was that the sponsors saw a strong volunteer come up from District 5, growling at the audience, ready to fight for the victory.
"A volunteer!" Flavia sarcastically grinned, smiling at the audience painfully. I frowned at her, not liking the way she was reacting to me. "And what is your name, my dear?"
"Your future and soon to be the first victor from District 5, Ashrifah Keyaut!" I yelled, baring my teeth at the rest of the district. Flavia grinned, looking back at the mentor for District 5. Carrius had been the mentor for District 5 for as long as I could remember, as we had never gotten a victor.
"Well, Ashrifah Keyaut, good luck! Now, let's pick our next unlucky tribute!"
Wyatt Blink-Box, 14, District 5 Male"
I looked at the ground intently, waiting for the reapings to be over as soon as possible. There was only a chance of about three in 20,000 that I would be picked as the male tribute for District 5, so I would only have to wait a couple more minutes before I could reunite with my parents.
I was actually surprised by the girl who had volunteered. I couldn't recall a time when District 5 had gotten a volunteer, and from the look of the audience, no one else did either. She would be one to watch - and bet on - during the Games.
Flavia walked over to the boys reaping bowl, drawing a name much more quickly than she had done before. I yawned a bit as she opened the slip carefully, making sure not to rip it. I knew that there wasn't much of a chance of that happening. The strength of the extra-extra thick paper slip in her trembling hands would be way too much for her to rip unless she was trying to actively. Then, all bets were off.
Flavia leaned towards the microphone, making sure that it would pick up her voice. I almost snorted in laughter. If the microphone had managed to pick up the profanities that she had uttered when she had dropped the other slip into the girls reaping bowl, it would have no trouble projecting her voice for this. The poor boy who got reaped now would have no trouble hearing their name being called up to the stage. "Wyatt Blink-Box!"
I looked up in surprise, in surprise of who had been called up. Was it me? No, the odds were definitely in my favour. There was no way I had been reaped over some petty waif in the lower part of the district.
"Wyatt Blink-Box!" Flavia repeated, impatiently tapping her heel against the floor of the stage. I started to scream when the peacekeepers came towards me. Who cared about logic now, someone had to volunteer for me! Someone had to save the great mind that resided inside of my body! I couldn't be reaped, I had way too much to accomplish, too much to say, too much to do! I wouldn't go. I just wouldn't.
The peacekeepers dragged me towards the stage, and I started to burst into tears. I wouldn't stop, not when Flavia tried to comfort me before giving up in obvious disgust, not when the girl next to me licked her lips, happy of receiving such an easy kill, not when the peacekeepers dragged me off of the stage, away from the crowd, who were just happy to not have been the one up on the stage, quivering in fear of the Hunger Games. Instead, it was me. Why me? What did I ever do? I didn't deserve to die! I just didn't.
I sat in the goodbye room, sobbing as my parents came in to comfort me. I wouldn't let them console me. It was in no way their fault that I was reaped, but I needed to vent, so I continued to sob, crying through my Mom sobbing her heart out as well, through the concerned look on a peacekeeper's face when he received a call from another person, and through my Mom and Dad being ushered out before more, many more, peacekeepers came filing into the room, ready to protect me from whatever they were so worried about.
I finally stopped when a peacekeepers came into the room to take me into the train, trying to dry my eyes on the couch. I might have fallen apart, but I needed to concentrate now. The cameras were about to come out, and I needed to have a game face. If I was really being reaped, I was going to play the Games until the very end. And, no matter the cost, I would try to win.
Hello again! What did you think of these two? I might have tweaked their characters and others a wee bit, *cough* *cough* but I really liked how they turned out! How was Flavia? Let me know in a review! A big thanks to kealimepie and iridescenteverdeen for these amazing tributes! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ