A/N: I bow down at the feet of any who are still with me and reading. I am truly sorry. I know that I have been gone for months, but just know that, though there may be absences, I will not give up on this story. You did not send your tributes in for nothing. Speaking of tributes, this week's are brought to you by flowerninja34 and TallTalesInk. So, after too long of a wait, I give you, District 9! Thank you all again.


Nora Farrow, 14


I crouch down, sweat coating my body in a slippery, unpleasant layer. I clutch a stopwatch in my hand. Ahead of me: the obstacle course. A course full of obstacles. Oh hey look, it's a metaphor for life! No, focus. I press the start button, then drop the device as I run full tilt.

First is a flat, smooth wall with a rope lying flat against it, hanging from the top. I take a flying leap and grab onto the rope midway, then stretch my legs upwards until they reach the top of the wall, and hoist myself up to the summit. At the top, I gaze out across a gorge. Monkey bars high above span the distance. I crouch down low and jump, grabbing the first bar, then swinging myself up on top of the bars so I can sprint across. I leap down from the obstacle, landing in a crouch. I look up, and see a track curving in a circle back to where I started. I run, air whipping past me, pulling my hair back with it. A weak smile stretches itself across my face. Each time I go down to the training gym in my basement, it reminds me of when two other people were there right alongside me. My brother Teff, and my dad, victor of the Hunger Games.

"Hey, why don't you move faster you slug?" Teff laughed as he raced along beside me. I scoffed.

"Nuh uh! I'm not a slug! You're a slug!" I shouted to the wind. Then Dad broke in.

"No more talking! There is no time for talk in the games! Run or die!" he screamed, and Teff and I ran.

My lungs burned, my sides screamed, the back of my throat scratched from the friction of my breath. Teff started to pull ahead, his longer legs and generally larger, older body giving him the edge. He finished the lap before me and put his hands in the air. Then he fell flat onto the ground.

"Aha! I win!" he crowed. I stopped, defeated, and panted while resting my arms on my knees. Then I heard the sound of a sword slicing through the air, and looked up to find Dad pointing said weapon at Teff's neck.

"You haven't won yet!" he spat, his eyes intense. "The only way to win is to kill! The ONLY. WAY!"

"Dad!" Teff shouted, his eyes widened in alarm. I rushed forward, putting myself in front of Dad, standing over Teff's head.

"Dad, please, not this again," I whispered. "You're not mad at us are you? Right?"

He seemed to hesitate for a second. Then his sword dropped, and Teff rolled away, coming up to a standing position. Dad stayed standing, swaying really, looking down at the ground in shock. With a start, I realized he was crying.

"You'll be reaped, you'll all be reaped. I can't save you!" he cried, clawing at his face. He reached out to Teff, imploringly, and my brother stepped forward. Dad squeezed him to his side. He buried his face in his Teff's hair, tears running down his face. Teff's eyes were wide open, uncomprehending.

"I don't ever want you to see what I've seen, not what I've seen no, not them, please not them…" he muttered, soothing himself into sanity by stroking Teff's hair. Teff was reaping age then. I guess that was what made Dad so scared, paranoid that day. But he only got worse from there.

"Harvey, what are you doing?"

Dad looked up, his face tear streaked, to find my Mom. She was standing in the doorway to the gym underneath our house in Victor's Village.

"Harvey," she snapped when he didn't say anything. He squeezed Teff once more, then let him go, ruffling his hair.

"Training!" I piped up. Mom glanced at me, seeming to deflate.

"Not again, damn it, didn't I say not to push the children like this?!" she snapped. Teff and I took steps back, but Mom wasn't glaring at us. She was glaring at Dad.

"He's just teaching us how to fight! Hee-ya!" I shouted, trying to draw her attention away from him. She focused on me, still angry.

"We'll talk about this later. For now, both of you, upstairs!" she ordered.

"You can't do that! They still have to train!" Dad screamed. I winced at the sound, but I still marched up the stairs. His voice rang up to where I was climbing, however. "The Capitol will take them from me! They'll take everything!"

"Shut up! Shut up Harvey, they'll hear you!" I heard Mom shout. I stopped climbing. Teff looked back at me as Dad continued to rant.

"They starve us to feed themselves! The fat pigs! And we worship them, giving up our children like sacrifices! Well not me! They won't die, not MY children!" he cried.

"Why can't we just ignore the Capitol? For ONCE! Just once, can we be normal?" Mom pleaded.

Teff clenched his fists and started to move back down the stairway, but I caught his wrist.

"Are Mom and Dad going to divorce? What's going to happen?" I whispered. Teff rolled his eyes.

"Nothing's going to happen," he replied.

"But…if they split, Dad will want to take you. He thinks you're better than me. I know it!" I insisted. Teff shook his head sadly, then surprised me by laughing.

"Silly, they won't split. And if they do, I'll be there for you. Remember when Dad got us those silver things that go on your ankle?"

I giggled and held up my foot, where the bangle hung. Teff pointed down to his own ankle, where he wore a matching one.

"We're together. Okay?" he said.

I cringe as I run, the remnants of old tears fighting their way back up again. Wait, what am I doing? I still have a course to finish! As I think this, the last obstacle comes into play. Suddenly, as I run, arrows with blunted tips rain down from on high, like a mighty smiting shower of the Capitol. The pattern of the arrows is random, so even after doing this course multiple times, I can't predict its movements. I just have to trust my reflexes.

Thunk! Ooh, nearly got me there. I twist and dodge as the arrows come, falling faster and faster. Left, right, leap, and slide…right into the stopwatch I first set, out of the range of the arrows, at the end of the course. I grab the watch and press stop.

"Not bad, not bad at all… But it could still be better," I mutter, panting and gripping my sides. My arm goes limp, my limbs feeling a little like jelly. That might be the last time I run the obstacle course… Stop, don't think like that. I hang my head as rage edges out everything else. The reapings. Instead of the Capitol giving kids a "pinch to grow an inch," we get a slip in its lottery of death. Gee thanks.

My hand clenches around the stopwatch before I force myself to let it drop onto a table. I look around the gym, the place I've been training at for as long as I can remember, built especially for my father under the house in victor's village. Dad. Teff. The Capitol's taken them away from me forever. Memories pop up into my head and I try to squeeze them out by shutting my eyes. I hold my head in my hands. No, please no, I don't want to see it. But it's forever there, in my own mind. The day my father decided he'd had enough of keeping his feelings of fear and rage inside, the day he went out into town and made those feelings public. The day the Capitol made sure to shut him up. Forever.

"NO!" I screamed. Tears in my eyes, on my cheeks. Snot running into my mouth. An unstoppable rising tide in my chest: grief, anger. Teff glared up at the peacekeepers standing over us, backing us into a corner of the room.

"Quiet, please be quiet!" Mom whispered, gripping my arms. Her expression was pained, desperate. But I couldn't be completely quiet, how could she not be quiet? How could she not see Dad's dead eyes staring at us from the floor? As I watched, a white boot nudged the head of my father, and a trickle of blood escaped his mouth.

"D—!" I screeched, but Mom slapped a hand over my mouth.

"Shut up, all of you!" a peacekeeper barked, holding up his gun. I wailed aloud.

"Stop! Stop!" Mom screamed, crying herself. She grabbed hold of me and rocked me back and forth.

"Silence!" another peacekeeper shouted. He knocked his baton against my mother's skull, and she dropped to the floor, bringing me along with her. I knelt next to her and sobbed, shaking her as hard as I could.

"Mom! Wake up Mom! Are you dead?!" I screamed. Suddenly, there was the sound of something swishing through the air, and then a grunt of pain. I turned, gasping for breath, almost crying too hard to take the air in fast enough.

Teff was standing over me, wincing in pain as he held onto one of the peacekeeper's batons. I didn't scream this time. All the screams had been knocked out of me.

"Brat," the peacekeeper snapped through clenched teeth. He grabbed onto my brother's arm and wrenched him up, so that his feet barely scraped the floor.

"Ah! Let me go! Bastards! You killed him!" Teff cried, twisting in the peacekeeper's grip.

"He's got quite a mouth on him, hasn't he?" the other one laughed.

"What are you doing Nora?! RUN!" Teff screamed. But I couldn't move. I just couldn't tear my eyes away from Teff, struggling. The peacekeeper frowned.

"Let's make an example of him," he said, and took a knife from his belt. Teff's screaming became the screeching of a cornered animal, and still, I couldn't save him. I couldn't save myself. Instead I had to watch as the two peacekeepers cut my brother's tongue out.

"NO!" I shout, my eyes flying open. But I'm not in front of the peacekeepers anymore, I'm not watching them destroy my life. I shake my head, pressing my palms into my eyes as I try to regain some sort of sanity. I'm going crazy, oh no, I'm going crazy…stop. No, I'm not going crazy. My hands grip my elbows.

The Capitol. They are to blame for this. They are the ones who took everything away. But how am I supposed to stop them? All I can do is train, train and hope.


Brannon Ross, 16


The dead remains of wheat at the edge of the field scratch at the back of my neck, and I put my hands underneath it to stop the feeling. The sun is bright this morning, well, bright every morning. I have to squint as I stare up at the sky. For once it is clear of clouds, and if I stare up long enough without glancing at the buildings on the horizon, I feel like I could fall right off of the earth and into the empty bowl of the sky.

Suddenly, a head pops up into the picture, a little girl's head. She smiles impishly at me.

"Brannon! Whatcha doin?" she asks brightly. I give her a small smile, reaching up to ruffle her hair.

"Just…cloud watching, Poppy," I say slowly, looking back up at the sky.

"There's no clouds though!" Poppy laughs, and she plops down on the ground beside me anyway. Once there, she tries to be still like me, maybe pretending she likes the feeling. Then she starts to wiggle, bumping my shoulder.

"Oops, sorry," she giggles. "It's so itchy! Why are you out here?"

I sigh heavily, squinting and eventually sitting up as the sun's glare becomes too much for my own eyes. Poppy follows me up.

"Maybe you wanted away from the noise. I get it. Everyone's freaking out inside," she states. I shake my head.

"Well you shouldn't be too harsh on them. I'm freaking out a little too. Maybe that's the reason I'm out here."

Poppy smiles and grabs onto my arm, squeezing it and hanging off it. "Your freak outs are the best. I can't even tell when they're happening."

I can't help but smile at her. She looks every bit the part of a cute little angel, with her hair all done up in braided pigtails. "Is there a reason you came out here?" I ask. Poppy looks away innocently.

"Oh, Nan is just trying to make me help her cook breakfast," she says offhand, before turning to me with wide eyes. "But I can't help Nan! She's so mean! She always makes me do the hard parts, and never lets me lick the spoon!"

I sigh a little as Poppy gives me a full blast of her puppy dog gaze. "You know what, I'll help Nan," I say with a wry smile. Poppy smiles, baring all of her teeth.

"Thank you soooo much!" she squeals, strangling me with a hug around the neck. Her arms can't reach all the way around my shoulders. "You are the best half-brother ever!"

"It's nothing," I chuckle, shrugging. Poppy jumps up suddenly, grinning.

"Well, now that's settled, you better get to the kitchen," she says brightly.

"And where are you going?"

"Not there!" she declares, and runs off, hair flapping in the breeze created by her running body. I roll my eyes and get up from the ground anyways. I don't mind helping.

I start walking over to my house, a two story thing that looks about ready to fall down. It is surrounded on all sides by huge fields, a forest of beige stalks. If I squint, I can see a town off in the distance, the place where I will have to walk in a few hours to get to the reapings. Normally I would walk there to get my assignment for work.

Once inside the house, I'm immediately hit with a wall of noise, coming from all corners. Poppy is nowhere to be found, while my stepbrother Rye is attempting to wrestle with my older brother Keat, who stands there unresponsive, if a bit annoyed. All while my younger sister Bree is talking my stepdad Buck's head off.

I sneak past everyone, just keeping my head low and trying not to make a sound, which is actually quite hard. When I start to move, I have to maneuver around all the cluttered furniture in the house, which for me is not easy. And there's just something about the way I walk I guess that makes noise. Whenever I enter a room, people look up, so Bree is no exception.

"Brannon!" she squeals, running at my and giving me a hug. She then hangs off my neck by her hands.

"Ooof, you're immovable," she comments, then lets go, landing nimbly. Buck comes up behind her, giving me his usual half grin.

"Hey there, feels like I haven't seen you in a while. How long's it been? A year?" Buck jokes, waggling his eyebrows. Bree rolls her eyes and laughs.

"No…actually I just saw you this morning," I reply. Bree sighs heavily.

"You have absolutely no sense of humor, you know that?" she says. "And wait, were you cloud gazing again? You know, I have no idea how you can just sit there looking at the sky all day. I could never do that. I guess it would be okay if I had someone to talk to. But you don't talk much do you? Well then maybe you could make stories up with the pictures in the clouds…" She bounces idly on her toes, tapping her chin. Buck comes up behind her and winks at me before taking hold of her shoulders.

"You know Bree, maybe Brannon has to do something. I think I might have heard—" he begins, but is interrupted by the sound of something heavy crashing to the floor in the kitchen.

"AAAAAAGGGHH! Will somebody please HELP ME!" Nan screams.

"Wow, she's angrier than a peacekeeper on a mission," Buck whispers. "I'll try to calm her down…" He tiptoes over to the kitchen door. Exaggerating all the motions so that Bree giggles, and Rye looks up from pinning Keat to the floor with his knee. There's a rare quiet moment as Buck enters the kitchen. There is some muttering, and then…

"No I'm not on the RED WAVE!" Nan screams, and Buck stumbles out the door, himself very red in the face.

"Well that did not go well," he mutters. I frown, going forward and entering the kitchen, slipping past Buck. The door swings shut behind me.

I find Nan, wrestling with several pots and pans on the stove with one hand while she struggles to reach a sack of flour on the floor that's partially spilled.

"Damnit, don't just stand there," she snaps at me without looking. "Pick it up!" I rush to help, easily lifting the enormous sack onto my shoulder.

"Okay now pour some of it into that bowl over there," she says, pointing to the object on the table behind her. I start to shake the flour in, when suddenly, without looking, Nan screams "Not that MUCH!" I jerk the flour bag away, setting it gingerly on the floor.

"Okay now mix it," she snaps. This goes on for a bit, her issuing orders and me following as best I can. In the end, we have a sloppy breakfast big enough to feed our family. All eight of us.

"Whew, thanks Brannon," Nan sighs, hands on her hips. "You know, some people just don't have the decency to help me."

I nod silently, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Oh! And that reminds me!" she says suddenly. "I need you to come with me and my friends to the reapings. Melly always seems to be off on her own since we have an odd number. You'll come right?"

I frown and fidget, not quite sure about Nan's plans. She always wants me out of the house with her. Maybe she worries that I don't talk enough. I don't have time to respond though. Nan is already smiling and nodding and clapping me on the arm, saying "Great! It'll be fun!" and then she is out the door.

I'm left in the kitchen, not quite wanting to go out and eat with everyone just yet. Nan doesn't understand. She just likes to see everything in perfect order. She has good intentions, yes, but people don't often go up and talk to me. I don't need friends, do I?

"Hey," a deep voice says from the kitchen door. I turn slowly to find my older brother Keat standing in the doorway.

"Hi," I reply. We stand there in silence for a second, waiting for the other to speak. Keat responds first.

"So Rye finally let me go. That kid is like…some sort of really fast sloth. He never lets go." I smile weakly.

"He's not that bad is he? Just passionate," I say quietly. Keat shrugs, scowling and leaning against the counter.

"It's weird. I don't even know him that well. I don't know any of them well. And they just have to be friendly."

"Well, they're nice. Maybe you shouldn't be so hard on them," I say. Keat shakes his head.

"They're not really our family," he snaps. "They should just stay away from me." I frown, shifting my weight. But before I can put any of my discomfort into words, the door flies open, and there is Bree. She has an enormous smile on her face, and the sounds of a raucous discussion behind her.

"Guys, what are you doing in here?" she asks, letting the door shut behind her, muffling the talk. I shrug. Keat shrugs. Bree doesn't even wait a beat to jump in.

"I can't believe you! Nobody ever wants to talk to me, you know, it's only common courtesy to respond fully to a question!"

Keat frowns, his upper lip curling. "Sometimes there's nothing to say. What's the problem?"

"You know, I just…ugh!" Bree groans, stomping her foot. "What's your problem? You know, you never talk to anyone, even Brannon talks to me and to Buck and everyone, at least he knows about common courtesy and you always have to stand off to the side looking cool…"

"I'm not trying to be cool!" Keat snaps. "I'm… I…" He shakes his head and crosses his arms. Bree harrumphs, rolling her eyes. She shoots a glance at Keat, then at me. She can't stand the silence.

"Breakfast is getting cold, you'll want to eat it now… good luck," she says finally, then runs up to me and squeezes me in a hug. She turns to Keat and approaches him too.

"Not in the mood," he mutters weakly. Bree opens her arms and giggles mischievously.

"That just makes this more fun!" And she hugs him.


Nora Farrow, 14


I power down the training room, turning off all the lights in the vast space, one by one. I love the big open area, the ceilings seeming to go on forever. When all the lights are off, it is pitch black. As I climb the stairs in the darkness, I can hear my mom and my stepdad and my half-sister walking around, maybe making breakfast. Of course my mother would stay here, in the nice big victor's house, though I'm sure the Capitol will kick us out the minute she kicks the bucket.

I walk out of the basement completely and enter my airy home. Outside, past the glass of the windows, I can see for miles and miles, just nothing but flat land and golden tips of wheat. This is a simple district, a sedate district. I can feel the heat of the sun beat down on me through the glass. It's suffocating.

I walk to the kitchen and dining room, my stomach growling and so empty, I think I can feel the sides of it smacking together, trying to digest air. My shirt sticks to me, sweaty. I did good work today, good accuracy with the stilettos, but I missed one of the bull's-eyes, and when I practiced with the sword, I wasn't as fast as I want to be. I need more time, more training. If only Dad were still here. If only I knew where Teff was, if he was still alive. I clench my fists and enter the dining room.

My mom is sitting with a bowl of oatmeal and fruit, laughing at some joke my stepdad Dave told her. Ariella is snorting and giggling in her pancakes. There is no food out for me, and I feel that usual sinking feeling in my guts.

"Mom," I say. She keeps laughing. I see Dave glance at me, then keep talking.

"And then I said, 'you can stay away from my wife," Dave quips. Mom's laughter quiets, and she puts a hand over Dave's, leaning in to give him a kiss.

"You're so sweet, honey," she says. I go to sit down next to Ariella, who is trying unsuccessfully to put a whole pancake in her mouth, and trying very successfully to turn her face into a new syrupy home for flies.

"Hey Ariella," I speak up suddenly. Mom and Dave look up, surprised. Oh, where did that voice come from? I don't know honey, but it certainly wasn't from your past marriage.

"Why don't I train you one of these days? Um… you know…" I lose steam as the adults continue to stare at me. I blink at them. They turn away.

"What were you saying honey?" Dave asks my mom forcefully, with a look that says "if we just keep smiling, maybe it will go away." And of course my dear mother goes along with it.

I'm not sure what to say, but Ariella smiles widely at me, oblivious.

"Is training fun? Do I get chocolate after?" she says in her high little voice. My mouth hangs open for a bit before I reply.

"Uh…not- it's not very fun."

"Oh…" Ariella turns back to her pancakes (syrup applicators).

"But don't you want to be able to defend yourself? You could be reaped!" I insist. In the back of my mind is my father, saying the same things to me so long ago. Of course he never gave me a choice.

"Nora, what are you doing?" Dave breaks in. I look up, surprised that he actually said my name, that he even knows my name.

"I…I'm just helping the family," I stutter. My mother frowns and turns to me. This is different, and it makes my heart race. I don't think it's from nervousness.

"I can protect everyone just fine," Dave says, a bit defensively. "I can use a knife."

"But…I was trained." I protest. "And Ariella needs to be prepared. One more person trained in the district mean one less victory for the Capitol, one less helpless tribute—"

"Nora!" Mom shouts. "Let's leave any thoughts of training until we're ready."

"The Capitol—!"

"Can wait," Mom snaps, and that is the end of it.

Ariella giggles, breaking into the awkward silence.

"Oh, Ariella, look what's happened to your face!" Dave exclaims, and what follows is a messy cleanup, lots more giggling and several comments about how cute she is.

I sit back and just stare at them for a good few seconds. Dave wipes Ariella's face, she tries to put a piece of pancake in his mouth as Mom watches and everyone laughs. Oh what good times, what fun. They look like a family. I try to think about Dad, about Teff, picture them in place of Ariella and Dave, but the picture doesn't look right. Mom seems out of place, the only one not committed. And now I'm the one on the outside.

I close my eyes, think of Dad and Teff again. What did their faces look like? What did their voices sound like? My throat closes up. Everything is so fuzzy, I can almost see it slipping away. They're all slipping away. I open my eyes again and find that Dave, Ariella and my mother don't even notice me trying to hold back tears. I stand up, scraping my chair against the floor. No reaction. No reaction as I leave the house either.

The second I am out the door I start running. There's a wheat field in front of the house, empty of workers in these rare off days. I plow into it, crushing the stalks. Take that Capitol! That! Every plant I hurt is one you won't get, a piece of bread you can't stuff into your greedy, murderous mouths!

I run so hard I start wheezing, crying, I'm running faster than I ever have, even in training. What am I trying to get away from? I sink to my knees, trying to get ahold of myself. This won't hurt the Capitol. Be honest. It's hurting nobody. If I want to hurt the Capitol, I need to hit hard, be prepared. I just have to train, train and… and… do what?

Shaking my head, I climb to my feet and brush the dirt from my knees. I need to talk to someone, get out and away from the house. Besides, reapings are in an hour or so. Reapings!

Just thinking about the event makes me want to punch the Capitol in the face, but I calm myself. Maybe, if I train hard enough, I can run off into the wilds and build an army. Wishful thinking, so wishful, but it's a chance. I start running to the town square, hard. Every moment is an opportunity to train, to push myself harder. I must be perfect.


Brannon Ross, 16


Nan talks to fill the silence as we walk to the Reapings, ahead of the rest of the family since Nan insists on having me meet her friends.

"Just be nice okay, be social!" she says, waving her hands in the air to illustrate. "I can't have you standing awkwardly off to the side like last time."

"But…" I mutter. "That was… well everyone seemed to be a bit scared of me."

"Oh," Nan replies. "Well I'll talk to them. And it wouldn't hurt if you smiled more. So smile."

"Ok…" I sigh. There is silence for a second, which I'm grateful for.

"Sometimes you seem like you're angry," Nan muses, breaking the silence. I don't respond immediately. Our feet create little puffs of dirt as we walk along the road, side by side. Everything is quiet in the district, like always, even though today is no ordinary day. Life has a sort of… easy flow I guess. I wake up early, I work in the fields, cutting the stalks, sometimes I plow the land, and then I go home, day in, day out. Of course it's not exactly that easy all the time. All the workers have to use machines to reap the crops, cut up the dirt, separate the grains from the stalks. Sometimes arms get stuck inside, people. Lots die from accidents. I think that's what happened to my birth father, at least, that's what mom says. I really can't remember him much.

"Are you going to talk to me?" Nan asks, breaking into my train of thought. I blink a couple times to regain focus.

"Oh, um… yeah, sure," I say. Nan elbows me in the arm, doing her best to shove me off into the fields on either side of the road.

"Ugh, you're too strong," she grumbles. "But you have to talk."

"I just work in the fields. And sure. I'll try," I reply. Nan nods, slightly mollified. She likes things in shiny, neat, ordered rows. Like rows of wheat I guess.

"Brannon! Whoa, Brannon!" A voice shouts from behind. I turn my head around just to make sure they're talking to me, and see Milo and Mason walking towards me. Milo has his hand up, a grin on his face as he strides forward. Mason hangs back, following Milo's lead and glancing at me with his hands in the pockets of his overalls.

"It's been ages. Ages," Milo says, grinning.

"I just saw you yesterday," I reply. Nan smacks her forehead. Milo laughs.

"Can't get enough of this guy, really," he quips, patting me on the back.

"Um… hi Brannon," Mason says hesitantly. "Who's that?" He points at Nan.

"I'm Nan," She responds quickly, looking down at his accusing finger. "And you shouldn't point at people." Mason puts his finger down, blushing beat red, like he always does when he messes up.

"… sorry, sorry, stupid," he mutters, bonking himself on the head.

"It's okay," I assure him. "Mason and Milo work with me in the fields," I tell Nan. We all start to walk towards the reapings together, Nan glancing every so often at Mason and Milo. Milo looks pretty odd, with bright red hair and green eyes. Poppy might say he looks like a leprechaun from one of her story books. He keeps trying to start conversations but Nan has turned frosty, walking stiffly with her arms crossed.

"Hey," Mason says to me suddenly. "I just wanted to say sorry about… about accidentally pushing the acceleration, instead of the brake…" He twists his fingers together.

"That's fine," I reply. "You said sorry yesterday."

"I just didn't think… I don't know, I never do anything right!"

"It's all ok," I say. Mason looks up at me, smiling.

"I don't know how you do it Brannon! Everybody always snaps at me if I mess up, but since you've been training me you haven't done it once!"

I shrug, blushing at the compliment.

It's not long before we reach town and Nan finds her friends. She looks at me and opens her mouth, then sees Milo and Mason standing next to me, and shuts it.

"You know I think I'll just go meet my friends alone," she says. "Hope the odds are in everyone's favor." And she leaves, quickly.

"Thanks guys," I say to Nan's retreating back. Milo and Mason look up at me, Mason's mouth half open in confusion.

"What did we do?" Milo asks.

"I… I guess you proved to Nan that I have friends," I stutter, blushing. I start to walk towards the check in desk where a line is barely queuing up. Mason follows, but Milo starts talking immediately with other friends.

"Luck, Brannon! Mason!" he screams at us before turning away. "Don't die!" That kid's so loud he could make himself heard over a reaper.

After I check in, I walk to where all the other 16 year olds are standing in their little section. It's still early so there aren't many. I'm content to wait for the escort and our one victor in silence, though everyone around me whispers in little groups. I can't help but notice that many hands shake. None of us cry. It's been too long for that. Nobody talks to me. I'm used to that. People tend to look sideways at me and then quickly look away when I turn my gaze on them.

"Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?" the escort cries. She is a little stick of a woman, looking like she's been dipped in bleach.

I wait, standing stiff as speeches are made and videos are played. I scan the crowd in a sudden panic as everything comes to a close. This is it. Keat's last year. I look behind me and see him, arms crossed. I see Nan standing in my section, she gives me a shaky smile. Rye farther up front, Bree after that. Most of my family in danger, my mismatched, patchwork family.

"Brannon Ross!"

What?

"Brannon Ross!" the escort calls again into the microphone. A hand flutters over my shoulder, and I look down to see Nan, her face red and blotchy and tears coursing down her face. Oh no.

Peacekeepers grab me forcibly by the shoulders and yank me to the stage. I let them. This can't be real, can it? When I am finally up above everyone else, I spy Poppy, way in the back, crushed to my mom and stepdad's sides. She's not crying. Neither will I. I stand straight, and stare right ahead.

"Now for the girls!" the escort says, and walks to the other glass bowl. Silence, a rustling of paper. I'm not thinking of anything right now really, just that… it can't be Bree. Not that, please.

"Nora Farrow!"

. . .

The room the peacekeepers took me to is so richly decorated I don't feel comfortable sitting down. I know my family will come, they have to. I can't wrap my head around this. What just happened?

"Brannon!" Bree screams, and she bursts through the doors and latches onto me like a shirt on a hot day. She's crying after all. It's pretty wet. I squeeze my sister not as hard as I can, because that would probably be uncomfortable for her, but tight. Things are starting to sink in now that they're here.

Over Bree's teary head I can see Buck, Mom, Rye, Keat, Nan, Poppy, everyone. Rye and Nan and Buck and Mom and Poppy all converge on me in the next second, piling into a group hug on top of Bree. Only Keat stays standing awkwardly to the side. He's… holding something. What is he holding?

I shift a little, and everyone lets go, giving me space, except for Poppy, who has her arms slung around my waist. I look down and find her looking into my eyes. She reaches a hand up and brushes something from my face. Wetness. I am crying.

"Come back, and I'll do all the chores," she says. "You can cloud watch all the time then! I won't bother you!"

"That's the best part," I whisper. And I hear a muffled sob. I look up and see it was mom.

"You'll give 'em hell!" Rye hisses, raising his fist.

"Don't die," Nan whimpers. I wipe my face, stroking the back of Poppy's head as she still hugs me. Keat approaches me slowly, holding that thing. It's… a piece of green cloth.

"What's… what's that?" I ask quietly. Keat looks like a dam about to crack. He holds the cloth out to me with a steady hand though.

"This was Dad's," he says. "Yours now." I take the cloth. Dad. I have nothing of him really, nothing. And if Keat had this all the time, all the time he was dead… He was keeping this from me. Keat has his head down, backing away like he's ashamed, but I manage to grab his hand. Keat looks up. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. I don't need to either.

Mom throws herself on me after that, along with Buck walking behind her, not even trying to make a joke. And then, impossibly, the peacekeepers force their way through and say time's up. Everyone shuffles their feet along, looking back at me, except Poppy, still holding onto my waist. They have to pull her off me, and when they do, she gives me one piercing look, a look I have never seen before on anyone. It's the look of someone who will never give up.

"You'll come back!" she states, and then the door slams shut. I am left alone with a piece of green cloth, and the souls of my family.


Nora Farrow, 14


Nora: What is this punishment for? I've done nothing! I've done nothing but wait and bide my time, when I could have died long ago! What was the point? Dad, Teff, will Mom even care if I'm gone? What'll be left, who will stand up to the Capitol now?!

I push my hair back with both hands and breathe deeply for a couple seconds. Then, with a surge of limitless energy and rage, I scream, digging my fingers into the velvet couch of the waiting room and ripping, shredding, and I shove the couch over with all my strength.

They've done it. They've taken every single thing away from me. I don't think they could ever take mother, since she always seemed to like Dad for his money, his security. And now she has both that and a husband who's actually sane! What do I have left? Not even my own life!

The door opens and I spin around crouching on the ground. I didn't expect anyone, but… Mom is there. Mom. She's not weeping, she keeps twisting her fingers together, and no one else is behind her, but she is still here.

"Mom," I say.

"Nora," she says. She doesn't open her arms for a hug. "Do you think this is…" she begins.

"You think I did something?" I snap. She shrugs.

"Well…"

"Well?" I say. "Well?"

"It wasn't unprovoked last time!" Mom shouts. I rise to my feet, and we stand there, at odds.

"I'm not that stupid, Mazie," I state. She doesn't say anything about me using her first name. She doesn't even flinch.

"Do I want the Capitol to suffer? Yes," I state.

"Nora please—" She begins, looking behind her shoulder nervously.

"I remind you of Dad don't I?" I shout. "Well he had the right idea! The Capitol won't stop until everything we hold dear is ground to dust! So I will not stop until they are ground to dust, but I will NOT do something stupid and useless just to provoke them!"

"I didn't mean—"

"I don't care what you meant," I snap. "You're happier now, aren't you, than you ever were with Dad?" She bows her head. "If I go, you'll just be happier." I she opens her mouth, but I hold up a hand.

"I won't give you that happiness," I say. The doors open behind her.

"Time's up," the peacekeepers say gruffly.

Yes. Time's up for the Capitol.