Selina Prats, age 17

"Are you going to come to the reaping?" I asked my mom. It was a genuine question, without much hope or feeling at all.

"No," Mom said. "I'll be at home, doing stuff I want to do. It's not like you'll ever be a volunteer, anyway."

I stepped back, startled at her hostility, and tripped. I began to fall. I was about to hit the ground when my eyes snap open.

I peer out the window. Telling by the light, the time is around eight in the morning. There's no school today for me. I'm volunteering. And it's not like I'm afraid of the games. I'm not afraid of anything, and you remember that. I just don't feel like going to school.

I sit up and stretch. I've had the same dream ever since I was chosen to volunteer. Some way of saying ha! to my mom, except only in my head. I'm saving the real ha! for later. Mom still doesn't know I'm volunteering. It's going to be such a great surprise.

I pull my pajamas off and change into my reaping outfit. The actually reaping isn't until eleven, but I don't care if my clothes get dirty. I wrap my hair into a bun, shake my sisters awake, and go downstairs to make breakfast.

I find a breakfast of ham and toast already sitting at the table. My dad is leaning back in his favorite chair, reading a book, and my mom is pouring water into cups on the counter.

"What's going on?" I ask. Mom looks up.

"Oh, you're awake!' she says, smiling. "It's a big day today! Sit down, sit down. I made this breakfast just for you!"

"Mom, what is going on?" I ask more fiercely as she admires at my clothes.

"We should have gotten you a nice dress," Mom says. "It's a little too late now, I suppose? Oh well. I only heard a couple days ago. You should have told me yourself!"

"Told you what?" I ask harshly, sitting down at the table.

"That this is your last reaping, of course!" Mom says. I pause.

"Mom, this isn't my last reaping," I say. "I'm seventeen, not eighteen."

Mom drops the water jug, splashing water everywhere. "Are you not volunteering?"

"How do you know about that?" I ask.

"A boy from town told me," Mom says. "He was an awfully dirty boy, but I was still able to talk to him. He told me, rather sarcastically, that I must be so proud, and I asked him what he meant. He said my daughter was volunteering, and I said, 'which one? I have four of 'em. Only three in reaping age of course', and he replied with you!"

"Mom," I say, "who was this boy?"

"Jasper, I think his name was," Mom says.

Yeah, I know that guy.

Jasper Coffin, age 17

I keep checking the clock tower. Is it time for the reaping yet? I have nothing better to do than just sit and wait.

Finally, at nine fifty, I get up and brush the soot of my pants. Already, people are pouring out of their houses and making their way to the reaping stage. All I have to do is follow the tide.

Walking to the reaping is harder for me than it should be. Sure, it's just was walking, but I also have to pass several unwanted things.

The first one is district four's community home. It's an oak wood six story building, with a total of two hundred beds. It's an abusive, terrible place. How do I know? I used to live there. The second one Mrs. Belgery's sandwich stand. That one I don't like to pass by because meeting face to face with Mrs. Belgery is the last thing I want to do right now. Her sandwiches are my main source of food, and long story short, I don't always pay for them.

The last thing is the bridge over the river.

I get to the reaping one minute before it's supposed to start, not that it will start in one minute, anyways. After a while, the victors are introduced. There are a lot of them. That sums it up.

Our escort, Billy, makes the opening speech for the mayor, who is apparently sick. I act like a normal human and instead of listening to everything he says, I watch a beetle crawl across the ground.

"...And as always, ladies first," Billy says. He digs around in the female's reaping bowl. "Our female tribute this year is... Janie Brown!"

"I volunteer!" a girl yells. Selina Prats. Of course. The last time I saw her do something memorable was when she jumped into a pool of rocks. I have no idea why. I think someone called her a coward or something.

Selina tells the escort her name, and he proceeds to draw the male's name. "And our male tribute is...Jasper Coffin!"

I feel...taken back.

A couple boys try to push me towards the front. By the time I reach the stage, I have come to the conclusion that no one is going to volunteer for me. I could swear there was a male volunteer...

Billy instructs us to shake hands. I notice Selina staring daggers at me.

It's going to be a long week.

All right guys! There are the district four tributes. Here are my questions:

Which one do you like more?

Who do you think will last longer?

What do you think their deepest fear is?

I'm going to Yellowstone tomorrow, and i'll be there for two weeks, so I won't be updating next week. I will have a chapter the week after that though (maybe a coupled days late).

As always, thanks for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

~Ginny