A/N (Glossy): Keep getting your Reapings in.

Collin Terrence, 17 (written by Mykindleisawesome)

District 10 Male

"Hey Adam, watch this!" I yell, trying to stand on the horse. He's busy flirting with some girls, who are leaning over the fence watching us. They all turn their attention over to me, and I flash them a smile. "Here goes..." I mutter.

I stand up in the stirrups, and brace myself. Balance is key... My legs tense and I do a backflip off the horse, doing a couple somersaults backwards to get out of the way in case my horse tries to kick me.

They all clap, and I notice my best friend, Ethan, is in the group. I hadn't noticed him before, so he must've just gotten there. "Hey Ethan!" I yell across the field. "You on Rider, I'm on Lightning! Three laps." I smile at him as I vault up onto Lightning.

Ethan smirks and runs toward the stables, where Rider is. His short blonde hair gleams in the sun, and his feet pound on the ground, kicking up dust.

I wipe a sheen of sweat off my brow. Summer again, time for the reapings. My friends I usually just mess around earlier, before the reapings, and get there a few minutes before our escort, Horatio, mounts the stage.

We all go over to my farm, showing off and racing. It's all fun in games, really. One of the girls by the fence, Riley, flounces over to me.

She gives me a dazzling smile, and I know she's trying to flirt with me. "Good luck, Collin. I'll be rooting for you."

"Thanks, Riley. But I suggest you get back over to the fence. Don't want to get your pretty skirt dusty before the reapings." It is a pretty skirt. A beautiful blue, complimenting her eyes and skin tone. Like a lot of the girls here, she looks great. I feel inclined to tell a lot of them that.

My brow furrows as I begin to ride Lightning, he slowly trots around the fence. Hmm, maybe that's why they all like me. I compliment them, and they think I'm flirting with them. But I quickly shrug it off. Whatever. I won't be changing myself just so hordes of teenage girls don't run after me.

Ethan gallops on Rider, and they race over to me. These are only two of my father's many horses. He owns one of the biggest- and richest- farms in District 10.

He hands me a flag. One of the bad things about our farm? There's nowhere to put a flag for racing.

Then I come up with a great idea. I turn Lightning around to face the girls. "Hey Riley!" I call. Her blonde head perks up. "Mind getting that skirt a bit dusty?" I wave the flag in the air, and she nods, a slow smile spreading across her face.

On the last lap, Ethan begins to pull ahead again, he's been doing that the entire time. On and off, he's been pulling ahead and then falling behind. I've been keeping Lightning at the same pace, saving energy.

About halfway through the lap, I begin to ease Lightning into a faster gallop. He speeds up, catching up with Rider. Ethan glares at me jokingly as inroads the finish line ahead of him.

"Yeah!" I cheer as everyone claps. But my fun is soon spoiled as my brat of a sister, Ebony, walks outside.

"Boys!" She yells, her white-blonde hair whipping in the wind. "Get inside now! You have to look presentable for the reapings!"

I sigh, jumping off Lightning. Everyone begins to scatter, and I turn Lightning over to Ethan. "And now, the winner wishes for his horses to be groomed and put up."

He laughs and takes the reins. "Of course, 'Master Collin.'" He chuckles mockingly, jogging the horses over to the stables. Heh... I love that guy.

I spring inside, running right past Ebony. I can barely squeeze past her, her small frame is blocking the door. So, of course, I feel inclined to ruffle her hair.

She shrieks, and smacks my arm. "COLLIN! Don't mess up my hair, it took me forever! Now hurry up, the reapings are in an hour!"

As I climb the stairs, I mimic her voice. "'Oh Collin, don't mess up my oh-so-beautiful hair! It took me absolutely forever!'" I groan. "Idiot."

She is such a brat, it annoys me. She could be shipped off to one of the Career districts for all I care, it would suit her. So fancy, ugh. Drives me crazy. She's a year or two older than me, and acts like my mom. It drives Adam and I crazy, we hate it.

Riley likes her, but she's sixteen. I think she likes me, but I don't really feel the same way about her. Ethan says she complains about some guy ignoring her a lot.

I jump in the shower, quickly washing my hair and body. Not much time, Ebony will have my head if I make her late. I throw on a pair of new jeans, sneakers, and a clean blue polo. I brush my dark brown hair, and vault over the banister, landing directly in front of Ebony, who promptly shrieks and begins to yell at me.

But of course, I ignore her. I ate earlier, so I jog out to meet Ethan, who is finishing putting my horses up. "Ready for the reapings, dude?"

"Heck yeah. No chance I'll be chosen." Ethan brags for a moment how neither of us have taken a single tesserae. "Same with you. And besides, people love you so much they'll volunteer for you." He winks at me.

I chuckle. "Whatever. You just want to go see your girlfriend, Olivia, don't you?" I swear that kid was obsessed with her. It was written all over his face.

"Of course, Collin. Can we go now? Can we go now? Can-"

"Ethan, we're already walking that way." Sure enough, we were walking the worn dusty paths. Everyone used them, whether it was for just taking a stroll or racing horses.

He chuckles, bashful. "Heh... Heh... whoops!"

We arrive at the reapings with about fifteen minutes to spare, and head over to the check-in table. There are two ladies there, one with bug eyes and a loud annoying voice, the other with a soft, quiet voice. I share a look with Ethan, and we go over to the quiet one.

"Name?" She whispers shyly, looking up at us from her list. She has a pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose.

"Collin Terrence." I smile, hoping to make her feel better. She gives me a shy smile back.

Her manicured hands flip through the book, mine's near the end of the alphabet. "Six times, right?" I nod, and she puts a check by my name. "Go ahead."

I leave Ethan somewhat reluctantly, he'll catch up with me eventually. He'll probably drag me around trying to find Olivia. I see a bunch of friends in my way to the 17-year-old section, but no Ethan yet. It's when I run into Olivia that I think there's a problem.

She's crying, tears running down her face and ruining the little makeup she found to put on. Her eyes are red and puffy, her dark brown orbs filled with tears. She sees me through her tears, and collapses on my chest. "Oh, Collin! It's terrible! Ethan's brother finally caught the bug that's been going around, and with his sickness, he can't hold on much longer! He's been excused from the reapings, and Ethan is, too. I need to find him, but I-I don't want to tell him!"

I calmly usher her through the crowd. There's some strange bug going around, and it makes your neck swell up, and it gets hard to breathe. I had it a few months ago, and was excused from school for a month.

I felt terrible the entire time, and now Ethan's little brother has it? He won't last too much longer, he's sick enough as it is. No one really knows what's wrong with him.

I see him in the crowd, and drag Olivia over to him. He runs as soon as the words finish spilling from her mouth, his face pale. I don't think I've ever seen him so scared. I turn to Olivia, who is still shaking. "Now all we can do is hope. Come on." I escort her back to her section, giving her a quick, friendly hug when she's there.

"Thanks." She sniffles, climbing over the rope. I jog over to my section just as our escort hits the stage.

His name... uh... his name is... it's not very memorable.

His light green skin looks sickly in the afternoon sun, and his black hair is short and cropped down. He steps up to the podium, very smart and official. "Good afternoon, District 10!"

A few people clap, but not enough to satisfy him. He deflated slightly. "As you may remember, I'm Horatio—" I sigh. That's a stupid name. "—and I will be aiding the two tributes from your district. I am so grateful to be here today, and I'm so excited for a new and thrilling Games. Now, I'd like all of you to give your undivided attention to your very own Mayor Hurley, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

We clap reluctantly for our mayor, who's slow, droning voice won't shut up. It goes on for forever, and I feel like I'm about to kill myself.

When he does shut up, Horatio goes onstage. "Now, let's pick our lucky lady!" He says excitedly, and he goes over to the female's bowl. He pick out the 'perfect name' and walks over to his microphone, where he unfolds the slip of paper.

"Lauren Cropp!" He cries, and I hear absolutely nothing. No one moves. Where is she? I wonder. "Would Lauren Cropp come up to the stage?"

That must've set off the alarm bells in her head, because a girl begins walking up to the stage. But she must be heard something, a giggle, perhaps, because she immediately whirled around. Her light brown hair is in a ponytail, and it whips through the air as she glares at someone. ... Riley?

"You bitch!" She screams, "You think that's funny?!"

"I-i-it wasn't m-me!" she stutters.

"Nobody has a laugh that annoying! Except maybe you!" She shrieks, punching her.

Two Peacekeepers gain on her, but she seems to want the last word.

"I hate you! I hate you all!" She shouts as she's dragged to the stage by the peacekeepers, a grip on each arm.

"Man..." I whistle, and some of the other guys nod.

For once, Horatio seems stunned. "Let's find out who the male tribute is!" He walks over to the male bowl. Horatio picks out a name, and walks over to his microphone.

"Collin Terrence!" He calls, and I pale. But I quickly shake it off, and walk up to the stage. I get multiple pats on the back and murmurs about how sorry they are. But no one will volunteer. They never do.

I saunter onstage, and stand next to Lauren. "Your District Ten tributes!" Horatio yells, and I hold out my hand. Lauren takes it, and I smile at her. She immediately retracts her hand, and wrinkles her nose.

I get to the doors before her, and open them for her. "M'Lady..." I whisper. It reminds me of Ethan. She growls and stalks past me, punching me in the arm on her way through. I rub it gently, she's strong!

The first person to arrive is Ebony, who sobs delicately. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe this is happening to you!"

Which annoys me. So. Much.

Then it's mom and dad, who somehow found time to visit me. Mom cries, and dad tells me how much he'll miss me, but I can make it back.

That annoys me, too.

Then it's Adam, and we joke around. I enjoy that, and feel lighter. More free, like I'm not about to go into the Hunger Games.

Riley comes in next, and she pretty much sobs while I pat her on the back. She repeatedly tells me what an idiot my district partner is, and all I can do is nod and smile. Lashing out will only hurt me later on.

Three more girls come through, and I can't come up with their names. How do they know me?! Well, I'm not surprised that they know me, but I don't know how they got in here.

They're annoying me too.

And then Olivia comes in. She must've come for Ethan. I feel the tears slip down my face. She hugs me, sobbing once again.

"Ethan can't make it. B-by the time he f-found out, it was too late. I don't have much time, anyway. But h-he did want me to give you this." She hands it to me, and her pale hand is shaking. It's a small horse figure, and it looks like my horse, Lightning. Black all over with one streak of blonde on his nose.

"Thank you." I whisper, looking at Olivia. This means more than she thinks.

Now home will always be on my mind, even in the arena.

Lauren Cropp, 16 (written by Katrace)

District 10 Female

I've worked at Woodard Ranch since I was twelve years old. I'm sixteen now.

For the whole time I've been there, I've tended to Liam's several horses. He's pretty well-off given where we live, but the only reason why I don't hate him for it is because he's actually humble. I know some bastards who shove the fact that they've got a lot of dough in your face. They need to make sure you realize their social status one hundred percent before they back off. Liam's not like that, though.

Today, he's bringing the new batch of District 11 apples and carrots to the stable, since we ran out when I was feeding Butterscotch. My coworker, Dally, bolts over to the bag and swipes it. He pulls out one of the apples and takes colossal-sized bites.

Liam just stands there, blinking his eyes in confusion. I'd do the same thing, but I don't think anyone understands that boy. They never will.

"Thanks, Liam," he says as he chomps. He needs to learn to chew with his mouth closed, that slob. He's a year older than me, but I'm so much more mature than him.

"Y'know those are for the horses, right?" our boss replies. Dally nods his head but proceeds to tell him that he was hungry. I'm not sure why he hasn't been fired yet, because he sure as hell doesn't do good at his job. Liam shrugs his shoulders as to say I-don't-see-any-point-in-asking-any-more and lets us be. When I think he's out of earshot, I turn to Dally.

"Do you ever stop eating?" I swear to Panem he can't go five minutes without putting something in his mouth. On numerous occasions, I've seen him chewing on grass, which is pretty disgusting. Plus, it's really disrespectful to the people that struggle to get food day after day. I've been there before, and I don't appreciate his nonchalant attitude about it.

"Got a problem with that?"

"What do you think, dumbass?" I retort. "Now give me the bag." When he doesn't budge, I yank it from him and grab a carrot.

I head over to Midnight's stall. I hand it out to him, feeling his saliva on my palm. A giggle slips from me. After he finishes his snack, I unlatch his door and start working on him. Since it's reaping day, Liam condensed our work hours, so he's the third horse I've had today.

Midnight's a good boy. He was the first horse I ever tended to, so I guess I have some bias. Actually, a lot of bias. I sometimes think about when I met him four years ago. Back when I was a nervous and hesitant kid, getting butterflies in my stomach from the idea of even touching a half-ton animal.

The memory comes back to me when I brush out his dappled fur after taking him for a walk around the ranch. I finish his grooming, kiss him, and creep out of the stall.

According to the analog clock on the wall, it's about ten thirty, which is when Liam said I could go—I got here at eight. I'm supposed to be home by eleven so I can get ready for the reaping at one. By foot, it takes us roughly over an hour to get to the district square, so I've gotta beat it. I scurry through the wide opening of the stable and head opposite of the hill sloping into the winding road. I live twenty minutes west of Woodard Ranch.

The sun beats down as I jog towards my house, and I can feel the perspiration seep through my clothes. It's nothing I haven't experienced, though. What do you expect when you live in the southern part of the country?

When I make it home (successfully with drawing little to no attention from Peacekeepers), I go in through the back door. The lock's a complete bust, so I don't have any problems getting in. My half brother, Arron, is hugging my mom and won't budge. He's five years old. He's still really attached to my mom and Holden—my step-dad—and can't go to sleep without them.

"Hey, Lauren," she says, "How was work?"

"Pretty good," I respond as I walk towards the bathroom.

"Give me a holler when you're done."

I open the door to the room and shut it behind me as I walk in. Stripping off my clothes, I climb into the wooden tub and undo my ponytail. The scar on my abdomen's faded over the years, but it's not going away anytime soon. But I can scrub the grime off my body, and I watch it fall into the bath.

The water's frigid, but it makes up for the heat outside. I dunk my head in there for thirty seconds, give or take. It disconnects me from all of my stresses and concerns of the day. When I need oxygen, I come back up to the surface and quickly finish my bath.

I wrap a towel around my body and another one around my hair. Then, I open the window and pour the water outside. I discreetly scale the flight of stairs to my room. The mint green dress I got for my birthday hangs off the edge of my bed, along with white knee-high socks and a pair of loafers. I let my hair and body air-dry for a while and then put on my clothes. My mom knocks on the door.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah." She has several supplies clutched in her hand. I sit on my bed backwards and try not to move as she starts to comb my light brown hair. I wince as she hits a tangle, gritting my teeth when she hacks through it. If you have long hair, you'd know the struggle. However, she finally manages to finish, making a fancy-schmancy ponytail with a small part of my hair wrapped around it.

"Look at yourself. You're so beautiful." She picks up the mirror on my bedside table and puts it up to my face. I turn to the side and see where the knot is. "Wanna put some blush on?" I nod my head, even though I really don't care one way or the other.

When she finishes putting on my blush, we descend downstairs. My step-dad and brothers wait by the door.

"Well, Delilah, we should be goin'," Holden says to my mom.

As we leave, I don't bother to look back. It doesn't even cross my mind.

The reaping's a really tedious and torturous process all of Panem has to go through annually, so I have to keep myself from groaning as I sign in at the front desk. The lady sitting in the chair has bug eyes and the most annoying voice you could ever imagine. I don't think she's from here; she definitely doesn't have a District 10 accent. It's really loud, and she seems like someone that would ramble.

"Name?" she says. Or rather, yells. Seriously, woman, you're gonna make my eardrums explode.

"Lauren Cropp," I say.

Her massive eyes scan the list in front of her. She leafs through at least twenty pages to get to my name, and mine's at the beginning of the alphabet. She picks up a blue pen from the corner of the desk and marks something down.

"Fifteen times, correct?" I nod my head. They know that kind of shit about you, whether you like it or not. My family had to take tesserae for two years, back when the recession was particularly strong in our part of the district. Even though things are fairly better for us, those ten slips will never be erased from my tabs. The government's known for not letting go of the past, those bastards.

The receptionist gestures me towards the crowd of people waiting in the square. I mosey on over to the sixteen-year-old section and dissolve in the group. There's chatter all over the place, several conversations going at once.

I zone in on this girl whining about this boy. She's talking about this to some random girl next to her, but it's not like nobody else can hear.

"He's not gonna like you if you're always as annoying as that," I say. She turns around to me, staring right at me. It's like she thinks she'd freeze me with her eyes or something.

"Who asked for your opinion?"

"Common sense," I respond. She gasps, like I told her she should die in the Hunger Games. I don't know her from Adam, but I can see the type of person she is: one that doesn't like to be criticized, no matter how ridiculous she is. She needs to suck it up. Random Therapist Girl glares at me, too. So I guess they are friends.

Before I can say anything else, the escort walks up to the stage. I can't place a name on who he is, since he started just last year. But I do remember his disturbing appearance.

"Good afternoon, District 10!" he announces, acting all high-class. What a phony.

"As you may remember, I'm Horatio, and I will be aiding the two tributes from your district. I am so grateful to be here today, and I'm so excited for a new and thrilling Games. Now, I'd like all of you to give your undivided attention to your very own Mayor Hurley, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Ha, Horatio! If anyone thinks this dickhead's being genuine, they need serious help.

I try to tune Hurley out as he drones on and on about the history of the Hunger Games, as if we aren't reminded of it every waking hour of our lives. It's my fifth time at the reaping, and it's just the same old, same old for me. I don't see any point in listening to the clearly scripted piece of shit he reads each year. It's not even accurate!

The real story is this: because the Capitol—or as I like to call it, the Crapitol—can't handle the thought of someone hating them, they decided to establish the Hunger Games. Let me tell you, they're a lot more disturbing and sadistic than anything the rebels could've done.

I clench my fists as the never-ending speech continues on, and I start thinking about the Games in general. What was the point of creating them, anyway? What did those assholes want to accomplish? Maybe they should've listened to the districts. If everybody's complaining about the government, even your precious little District 1, then you need to make some changes. Just don't make kids fight to the death! It ain't rocket science!

The Crapitol hit an all-time low when Coriolanus Snow decided to take the place of his father. He's your average spoiled brat that's had everything fed to him on a silver spoon. Someone that hasn't faced adversity shouldn't be president. Panish logic confuses me.

That's not the worst of it, though. Who the fuck lets a sixteen-year-old rule a country? And someone my age! That's what I wanna know. I could do a whole lot better than him. Oh, if I had the opportunity to meet him, I would completely—

Then, everything hits me like a ton of bricks, all at once. Horatio's voice is distant, but the eight words he speaks are still audible.

"Would Lauren Cropp come up to the stage?"

I snap out of my thoughts and fantasies to see my new escort gesture towards me, inviting me to hell. Screw you.

If there weren't Peacekeepers guarding every corner of the square, I could make a run for it. I could run away and never come back. What would stop me? Unfortunately, that's not the case.

My palms become clammy, and I wipe them on my dress. The crowd is dead with silence as I walk up to the stage. I try to keep all of my conflicting emotions bottled up until I'm in the privacy of the Justice Building, but all chances of that are nixed when I hear the first sound in the past minute or so. It's a giggle. It's definitely a girl. I know she's pretty close to me. I whip around and see Miss Over-Sensitive with a faint grin on her face. Caught in the act.

"You bitch!" I scream, "You think that's funny?!"

"I-i-it wasn't m-me!" she stutters. Therapist Girl confirms this, but I know when someone's lying.

"Nobody has a laugh that annoying! Except maybe you!" I yell as I sock her. She starts to cry, and everybody glares at me. What a wimp.

Two Peacekeepers head towards me, but I'm not ending this without getting the last word.

"I hate you! I hate you all!" I shout as I'm dragged to the stage by those bastards. Their grip's so hard I swear my veins will pop. There's no way I'm escaping either of them. I call them some colorful words, but the only thing that does is tighten their holds. Apparently that's possible. When I'm up on the stage, the one holding onto my left arm shoves me towards the center. Both of them disperse to opposite sides of the stage.

"Well, then," Horatio says with a chuckle—again, completely fake, "Let's find out who the male tribute is!" He puts his hand in the reaping bowl and fishes around for a slip of paper. I hear the crinkle as he pulls it out, and he reads the name loud and clear.

Collin Terrence.

The kid receives several sympathetic gestures as he walks up to the stage. I see that he has the same blue eyes I do. But that's the only thing we have in common. When Horatio announces that we're the District 10 tributes (I don't know why he needs to reiterate this), Collin holds out his hand. He's not gonna stop until I grab it, so I tough it out and bring mine forward.

Then, he smiles at me. What's so happy about fighting to the death? Disgusting. I let go as soon as possible. That's not the worst he does, though.

Collin thinks it's completely okay to hold the door to the Justice Building and call me "m'lady". He's not gonna get away with crap like this during the Games, so I punch him on the shoulder as I walk inside.

I hate flirts like him.

When I'm sent to my waiting room, I look around at how freaking fancy everything is. They probably spent half of their savings on this joint. It's sickening, but it's also pretty damn impressive.

I feel uncomfortable when I sit on the velvet sofa, as if I'm invading privacy. But then I remember they completely screwed with my life, so I'm gonna give myself some credit. I hum a District 10 folk tune until my visitors come in.

My first one's Liam.

"It's been a helluva time havin' you at the ranch, Lauren," he says while shaking my hand. Actually, he's shaking my whole arm, and I swear it's gonna be dislocated sooner or later. He's right, though. Even though I'm surrounded by idiots there, there's nothing more I love than seeing Midnight, and just horses in general.

I manage to crack a small smile.

Liam's graying hair gets in his face, so the handshake is broken when he pushes it out of the way. I sigh with relief on the inside.

"Yeah. Thanks," I respond. What else am I supposed to say in this situation? Sorry Dally ate the apple? No, that's irrelevant now. Eating something you weren't supposed to pales in comparison to fighting to the death by a lot. In a week, he's not even gonna remember it.

"I'm gonna miss ya, kiddo." Liam's not one of those guys that gets all sentimental and mushy and emotional about things, so I'm not surprised at his relaxed approach on this. Whatever.

He slaps me on the shoulder and leaves.

I wait five minutes or so before my family comes in. When they do, Arron's holding onto Mom as usual. She has bloodshot eyes; I haven't seen them that red in a long time. Holden's standing next to them, wringing his hands. Gareth's looking around at the room, and he sucks his thumb. A knot ties in my stomach.

My mom is the first to approach me. She tells Arron to let go and walks over.

"I'm so sorry. So sorry. So, so sorry," she repeats, her petite body embracing me. I don't have the power to tell her to let go. She rubs my back. I remember when she did this as a kid, when it was one of those nights. Memories flash back to her lying in my bed, singing me a song, and holding onto me.

Snap out of it.

"I love you so much. Why did this have to happen? Why? Why?" She says "why" until she can't breathe from crying so hard. I have to be the voice of reason here.

"It's—it's gonna be okay, Momma," I try consoling.

But we both know the truth. Anyone who begs to differ is kidding themselves. I don't have a chance against the Career tributes. A chill zaps through every part of my body. Finally, my mom releases her squeeze.

"Here," she mutters, pulling something out of her pocket. It's a necklace weaved out of grass. It's braided, and it appears to be pretty stable and not as flimsy as it seems.

"Where did you find this?" I ask.

"Your-your stepfather made it for you. A while back," she replies. I glance at Holden, and he gives the slight nod of his head.

"Thanks." He's actually a pretty nice guy, but he's a little too nice, if y'know what I mean.

I turn back to my mom.

"Lauren," she says, "Please…"

"What is it?"

"Just…be careful. Think before you speak, okay? Don't-don't say what you said today." Well, that cat's outta the bag. And not speaking my mind is as unlikely as surviving these Games. But I say "all right" to appease my family.

There's a beat of silence, but Gareth's the one brave enough to break it.

"What's goin' on?" He looks right at me, and I begin to say something, except I'm not really sure what I'm thinking right now. Holden saves me.

"Your sister's gonna be gone for a while."

"How long?" My parents and I look at each other.

"We-we don't know," my mom answers. Tears fill up in her eyes again, and she tries to wipe them away. My step-dad squeezes her hand.

"Bye, sis. See ya soon," Gareth says. I ruffle his blond hair and pretend like everything's okay.

He's gonna find out about the Hunger Games in a matter of years.

He's gonna piece everything together.

He's a smart kid, I've gotta admit.

As he walks away, my mom whispers something to my youngest brother, and he comes forward. He squeezes my legs.

Then, Holden walks towards me.

"Good luck, Lauren," he tells me. "You're the best daughter I've had."

"I'm your only one," I counter. Technically, I'm his stepdaughter, but I don't bother to correct him.

"Y'know what I'm saying. Well…it's been a great nine years." I nod my head. I could agree with him somewhat. I mean, if you disregard our struggles there for a while, then it was pretty good. Whatever.

The five of us stand there in another awkward silence until a Peacekeeper tells us their time is up. Holden takes my brothers and leads them outside.

My mom, on the other hand, grabs onto me like there's no tomorrow—which I guess is true—and starts wailing again. The Peacekeeper pulls her off of me.

The last thing I see of her is her being dragged out of the room, trying to fight back. I guess she's been a fighter her whole life, even if it's not in the way you'd think.

The door slams behind them, and I'm left all alone. My mind is clouded with several thoughts right now, but there's one that's there the most.

These bastards are gonna get it.