Here's District 10! Maveriqua sent the male and AKLNxStories (again) sent the female! As usual, thanks to both of them! :)

Elizabella Lovelock, 16

District 10 Female

I wake up, feeling unusually tired and sleepy. I try to get up, but it's like moving underwater. I cough a few times before I realize what happened. The epidemic has reached me.

I curse in my head, before lying down and hoarsely calling my mom.

The swine flu. In other words, District 10's mortal enemy. If our main industry wasn't livestock I'm sure it wouldn't be. As it is, the animals provide a harbor for disease, and sometimes, some pathogen rips through the population like wildfire. This outbreak only started a few days ago, and I've heard it's already reached over half the population. Add one more to that count.

It's so common, now, though, that these outbreaks only last for a week at most, before most people recover, and life goes on, unless you keel over from the sickness, combined with malnutrition, cold, who knows what?

Mom comes in, and quickly realizes what happened. In no time at all, she has the 'bed tray' as we call it, next to me, with a large, like, really large, glass of water, and a pill.

I take the pill, which I've been used to taking by now, and continue resting in bed. I finish the water, and then decide to just talk to a friend. Fortunately, there's a phone at my bedside, in case I'm stuck in bed, like now, and am bored.

The only person I'd really call up, though, is Clementine. She's the same age as me, and I know she's also sick, she caught it yesterday. She's probably bored out of her mind.

I grab the phone, and dial 10-3118. Apparently, you can technically call people from other districts, as the first 10 stands for District 10, but only people who have special privileges, like the Mayor or Victors, can actually utilize this function. All others who try will receive the message, 'We're sorry, but the phone number you're trying to reach is outside the allowable calling area.'

After a few rings, the phone picks up.

"Hello?" I hear Clementine ask in a slightly raspy voice.

"Clem, you have to drink water when you're sick," I say, needing another huge glass of water myself.

"Oh, Elizabella. You sound sick too . . .?"

"Yeah, in bed," I reply, "and I think I should take my own advice. Hold on . . ."

I call for my mom, and she only needs to hear me before I receive a second glass, which I drink thirstily.

"Ah . . . alright, Clem?"

"Stop calling me Clem, Eliza," she replies cheekily.

"You know, I would argue for Clem but not Eliza, but I'm sick and if I talk too much, I'll . . . I'll . . ."

I sneeze a few times, grab a tissue, blow in it, and then toss the tissue into the wastebasket. They say that if you don't get sick more than five times per year, you're a really healthy person. That's probably true, this is my 4th time, and it's only about half a year. I'm in bed sick so much that tissue-tossing is trivial now, which isn't as easy as it seems. The tissue can be unevenly weighted, have different overall weights, be gross to hold in the most otherwise convenient manner, etcetera.

Juno Taurus, 17

District 10 Male

I can't believe people actually believe that District 10 folks hold straw in their mouths. I . . . I just don't get it.

Making a point to stay away from people as much as possible, not that I'm antisocial, but I don't want to get sick myself, I head out to the barn. Everyone in my family is not sick, at least, that was the case 15 minutes ago when I left the house. And yes, stuff can change in 15 minutes.

Summer time is the time to grow livestock, we don't slaughter them now, unless there's an urgent need to, like disease. And then their meat we throw out.

We may not slaughter to solve our own hunger problems, though, that's against the law. Not that it affects us too badly. There are dry spells, but we've always gotten through.

I walk into the barn, and start doing the daily chores. Most of the animals have sufficient water, except the cows. I'm reminded of the riddle that tends to get the youngest of us, but past 10 years and you're hard-pressed to get anyone to fall for it. 'What color are clouds? What's the opposite of black?' And many other questions that lead to an answer of white, and then, out of the blue, 'What do cows drink?'

No, the answer is not milk. Please. Just no. Unless you want to kill your cows. Then give them milk. But we're in the business of keeping our livestock alive until the knife.

I refill the water, and then grab the shovel to take out the manure. It sounds like a gross job at first, and it sort of is, but you get used to it eventually.

As I start shoveling, I see someone coming out of the corner of my eye. I look, and see who I expected, Jasper Argus.

Jasper is a ranch hand, and he functions well as one, there's just a few things here and there, but nothing too bad. He's a person who learns fast from experience. I've never had to correct him on any one thing more than once, which is impressive, since there's so much to learn. When I learned from my dad, I made a lot of mistakes. Fortunately, that was over six years ago.

Jasper goes to check the food and the quality, and if either is lacking, he should replace them. I see him take out the pig's feed box, and get some new food.

"Anyone sick in your family," I ask Jasper.

"Min," Jasper says, "she'll get over it though. She's almost better. Caught it three days ago, and she's pretty much up and running. Keeping her home just in case, though."

"Good idea, but the epidemic should pass through in a few days. It's been three days, can't last longer than three more days."

"But the Reaping . . ."

Great, I think. An event we're coerced to go, epidemic or not.

Elizabella Lovelock, 16

District 10 Female

In my drawer is my 'arsenal' of stuff for when I'm sick. It contains pretty much anything I'll need, except for food and water, to survive without leaving my room.

Grabbing the handheld mirror and the comb, I start to comb my dark brown hair, before realizing it will just get messed up when I lie back down, so I put them back.

I grab a 3-D puzzle that's intrigued me for a while, a 3 by 3 by 3 cube that twists on the side. Apparently, the goal is to get all the same color on one side. As far as I know, no one in District 10 knows how to fix this.

However, it is a great time-waster. I twist it for a while, managing to make a side, but not able to continue further, until lunch.

The standard meals for a sick person, according to mom, at least, is a very nutritious meal, composing of more greens than normal. I don't like it, but I understand it's for the better.

I eat slightly half-heartedly, and then, out of sheer boredom, call Clementine again.

1. 0. 3. 1. 1. 8.

"Hello?" a voice that's clearly not Clementine's or anyone from her family says.

I stare at the phone number I called, and realized I entered 8 twice instead of 1 twice. I hang up immediately, and flop down on my bed. I blame the error on my sickness.

After recovering from the momentary embarrassment, I call again, making sure to dial the right number this time.

"Clementine?" I ask before she can even say anything.

"Eliza?" I hear, making me scowl.

"Don't. Just don't. But I know what you're going to say."

"That I won't stop until you stop calling me Clem?"

I roll my eyes, but thankfully, Clementine can't see me. "Yeah. You feeling any better?"

"I think I'm almost good. Seems like I only got a mild case. Hope you also have a mild one as well. I'd hate for you to be sick during the Reaping."

"I'd hate for anyone to be sick during the Reaping," I reply, "including me."

"Good thing is, a lot of the population has already recovered, so possibly herd immunity . . ." Clementine trails.

"Maybe, depends on just how contagious it is this time. I'm going to sleep. Good bye, Clem." I say, and hang up before she can respond.

Chuckling slightly, I slide back down and find slumberland.

Juno Taurus, 17

District 10 Male

Dark clouds on the horizon. That means it's going to rain soon.

Well, maybe, anyway. My meteorological skills are mediocre at best. And I don't even want to think about when I'm horribly wrong.

After lunch, I decide that, before going out again, I'll read a good book.

Even though Dad's really busy with the farm and whatnot, he makes time for my interests, one of which is reading. He's great, and finds books for me to read when he can.

I'm lucky, as a significant amount of the population can't read at all, most because as a child, they had to help at the farm and not go to school. Grandma was one of those people. She can't read, and I guess that's why she loves to see me read myself.

Even if I'm lucky, my literacy isn't great

I look at the shelf, and find a book, apparently new, titled, 100 Years of Hunger Games. The history of the Hunger Games, detailing all victors, kill lists, placements, etcetera. It's a little gory, but I can handle it.

Dutifully putting the book down after reading the details of the first two Hunger Games, I get up, stretch, and grab a bookmark. I place the book back on the shelf, and head out again.

I'll need to take the sheep out to new grass today. Dad should have already taken the cows.

I get to the barn, and, habitually, count 43 sheep. Perfect. Now I just need Jasper.

"Looking for someone?" I hear, startling me.

"Jasper! I was just looking for you. We gotta take out the sheep to pasture."

Grinning, Jasper starts his work, and then I open the gate, and start herding the sheep to Field 2.

I don't catch any sheep wandering off, I guess they're half-used to this drill by now. Not that I'd trust the sheep to get to the Field by themselves.

Once the sheep are there, Jasper leaves to do other work, while I sit on the grass, watching the sheep.

As long as I don't fall asleep, I should be fine.

Elizabella Lovelock, 16

District 10 Female

I wake up again as mom's bringing the bed tray filled with dinner, no doubt another nutritious meal.

However, I frown when I see something new. They're yellow stick thingys about as long as my fingers, but they smell good. I try one, and realize it's just potatoes, but somehow delicious.

Remember when I said this was going to be a nutritious meal? I think I lied.

"What are these called?" I say, stuffing all of the yellow stuff into my mouth.

"One, don't talk with your mouth full, Eliza."

I'm in for it. Mom never calls me Eliza unless . . .

"I'd hate to get covered in french fries."

"French?" I ask, swallowing, "what's french?"

"I don't know, but that's what it's called. French fries."

Huh. That's very interesting. I observe the rest of my tray, and see some carrot sticks, and a small slice of beef. Mom grabs the chair in my room and sits down while I finish off the rest of the tray.

"Ione, hon, did you take the tray up?" we hear from downstairs. Must be dad.

"Yes, I did, Elizabella just finished. I'll take the tray down now."

I half-chuckle, half-snort as I give mom the tray, before quickly retreating and sneezing. I hope I'm better tomorrow, after a good night of rest. Not that I'm expecting to be fully recovered, but, at least, I want to be fully recovered by the Reaping, if only to not spread disease. And the best way to help my body deal with the sickness is definitely to get some rest.

Right now, I think, as I lay back for more rest.

Juno Taurus, 17

District 10 Male

Another thing that kids quickly learn here is that the old kid tale that the rooster crow announces the start of day. That's not true.

Well, I suppose, it's partially true. However, it crows at pretty much any time of day, including night. That gets annoying if you get woken up by one during the night, so we don't use them to signal dawn. We just get up. The roosters should be in the barn waking up and annoying the animals instead.

I walk to the living room, and see that I got up a bit earlier than usual, at roughly 6:30 instead of at around 7. Great, I have 30 more minutes!

I put a bit of food together and eat, just wanting to get out, which might sound a bit odd, but I do enjoy my work. Most of the time.

I put my dish in the sink, then, deciding to help out my mom a bit, I rinse the dish off, before leaving for the normal stuff.

I look out at the land we have. We have five fields, each roughly 10 acres. It's good for the animals, and good for me, because then I get exercise just doing my work. But I guess that's true about all manual labor.

Arriving at the barn, I start the daily chores, checking the water. The cows and pigs both need new water, the latter because it just seems contaminated.

There isn't much dung today, which I'm glad for, unsurprisingly, it's my least favorite part of this work.

I have just finished my chores when Jasper comes. He looks around, seemingly surprised. "You got a lot done."

"No, I just came here early. I'm not that efficient." Then, remembering that Jasper's little sister is sick, I ask, "How's Min?"

"All better," Jasper says, starting to do his own chores, "she's good to go for whatever. Emotionally, though, tomorrow is her first Reaping."

I remember the first time I was eligible. I was scared out of my mind, even though, realistically, 12 year olds are least at risk, unless you've taken out tessare, like I have every year, four tessare per year, one for me, mom, dad, and grandma.

I sigh. "She's not taking tessare, right?"

"That's my job," Jasper says quietly.

Math isn't my strong suit, but I know that my name has gone in five times per year, and this is my 6th year eligible, so I should be in 30 times I think? That sounds about right.

The odds aren't in my favor, sure, but I slipped through with 25 times in. What's five more?

Elizabella Lovelock, 16

District 10 Female

I wake up, late probably, but I feel much better. I know, however, that this is probably an illusion, and if I get out like a normal day, I'll probably get worse again. You just know that after doing that three million times before.

I stretch, however, and feel my forehead. A bit hot, perhaps. One more day in bed should do it.

I sigh, and call mom from my room, but my voice catches. I need water, I guess. Mom comes to the rescue quickly, though, and I gulp down the glass of water. I also look at the tray, and I see an apple and a slice of bread. I frown slightly.

"Sorry," mom says, as if she can read my mind, "but we're running low."

I understand, though, so I try to smile, and eat slowly and deliberately, enjoying every single bite.

Sighing when all the food is gone, I give the tray back to mom, who goes downstairs. A bit after, I cough slightly, still the remnants of infection left.

I hear the doorbell ring downstairs, and I wonder who it is. I get the answer a few minutes later when Clementine comes into my room.

"Hey, Clementine," I say, desperately hoping she forgot about yesterday, and me hanging up on her, "feeling better?"

"Nope, I would feel better if you call me Clementine, Eliza."

Clementine has the advantage here. I can't exactly get out of bed and strangle her. Not that I would do that anyway.

"For today, at least." I say, intending to start calling her Clem when I can actually stand and not worry of a relapse.

Clementine rolls her eyes at me, but seems to relent. "Ok, Elizabella. But maybe tomorrow. I can be here, by the way, because I already got sick, so I don't need to worry about getting it again."

At least, I won't need to worry about it today. I notice that Clementine is holding something in her hand, but I can't see it clearly form my angle, and the way her hand covers the object isn't helping.

"What's in your hand?" I ask Clementine.

"Something we can do," Clementine says, holding out a deck of cards.

Juno Taurus, 17

District 10 Male

With the morning stuff all done, Jasper heads back to his house on the outskirts of the property, and I head back to mine.

Ready for lunch, I head inside, and am greeted with warm soup. That seems to be all, but I don't care too much. I thank mom, and then drink down, scooping up the rest with a spoon.

Refreshed and rejuvenated, I stretch, thank mom again, and then head out again, before realizing I have some time before I actually do have to head out. I go back in and decide to read two more Hunger Games before I head out.

Remembering yesterday, reading the first Hunger Games was really interesting, without Careers, without traps, just 24 scared tributes with weapons.

The Games sure have changed since then. If only the results weren't so skewed. The introduction says that in the 100 years, nearly half of them were won by 1, 2, or 4.

After reading, I truly go out again for herding. Today, it's the horses.

Controlling horses is a bit tricky, mainly because of their potential to be fast, however, a well-known technique to control all the horses is to take control of the horse that seems to be the leader. Then, everyone will follow the leader, and the leader will follow us.

Even with that in mind, I'll need Jasper for help, and sure enough, only a few minutes after I get to the horses' stable, Jasper shows up too.

We nod, and then start. It's become a habitual process. I tell Jasper that we're going to Field 4, and then I get on the lead horse, and Jasper makes sure the others are in-line. That's usually not necessary, but who knows?

I watch the horses more attentively than the sheep, but no one seems to be going anywhere anytime soon. Well, no horse, I suppose.

Elizabella Lovelock, 16

District 10 Female

I bite my fingertips nervously, watching my opponent with a sense of dread. She might be winning right now, and I would have no idea.

Then, Clementine plays a 9. "The pile is at 93 now. Anything good?" she asks me.

I could try playing my king and default to 98, but what if Clem has a stalling card, like a Jack or a Queen? Then, since I don't have one myself, I only have one 3, one 7, and one 9 as well as the king.

Deciding not to risk it, I play my three, increasing the pile to 96. Drawing, I get a Jack. A smile threatens to cross my face, but I force it down. I can't let Clementine know that.

"Ahh, whatever," Clementine says, and plays her king. "98."

I smile, and play my Jack. "And 98 to you too, Clementine." Drawing again, I get an ace, but I'm not sure if I'll need it.

Clementine plays a Queen she's clearly been saving for this occasion. "And 98 to you, again."

Hoping that Clementine doesn't have any more stalls, I play my own king. "98 back to you."

Clementine's face contorts into one of surprise, and I realize that I must have gotten her. "What's wrong? Can't find anything to play?"

She scowls, before playing a two, losing the game for her. I drop my cards, revealing that if she had one more stall, she would have won. Clementine just whistles in response.

"Up for anything else?" Clementine asks.

"No, I think I just want to rest up. I have to be good tomorrow, lest I spread the disease."

Clementine nods, hugs me as well as she can while I'm on my bed, and then heads out.

I'm lucky to have this much attention while sick. Not everyone has friends who are willing to come over when you're sick, even if they're immune. I'm glad that I have Clementine, even if we have our war over nicknames. But the Reaping is always the one which unites the District, puts all internal battles away, and has everyone holding hands and watching the screen, hoping that one of our tributes will win. And, more often than not, actually, as long as I've lived it's been 'not,' they die somehow, whether it's to mutts, or other tributes, or environment.

Mom will wake me for dinner. I'll just sleep some more.

Juno Taurus, 17

District 10 Male

I'm always exhausted after watching horses.

You have to stay on the lead horse, or who knows what will happen, so you can't lay down on the grass, and you must be constantly alert.

It's so hard that Jasper and I need to switch off every hour or so, which sort of works, but we're both exhausted at the end of the day anyway.

I stumble into the house, and find scrambled eggs and a slice of the trademark 10 meat, which has been kept in storage since the culling season. It's really salty because of the preservatives. There's also some bread made from the tessare. Great.

However, I can't complain much, it is food after all, so I collapse into my chair and dig in. I know that I don't need to wait for anyone, because dad and I just come in and eat for our meals. Mom and grandma would eat together, though.

Sometimes, I wish that I could do something different. Sure, working the herds is fun, but that's what nearly everyone does here. If there was only something different. Maybe a job from 3, or 6, maybe, would be pretty cool. Possibly 4, 5, or 8 as well. Woodworking sounds hard, but like livestock, I bet, would be something I would be used to if I lived in 7.

It's an impossibility, though. I'll near certainly end up as a ranch owner or worker. No other possible work for me. Probably the most out-of-district thing I do is reading, and only because my family believes that I should. Not to say I don't like reading, I really do, but I wouldn't have taken up reading in the first place if it wasn't for my family who pushed me to do so.

Sighing, I finish up my meal, put my plates and utensils away, and head up to get ready for bed. I grab a toothpick and get out any particles of food that might have decided to take shelter in my mouth, then gurgle and spit out, and finally, changing out of my ranch clothes, before going to sleep on the night before the Reaping.

Elizabella Lovelock, 16

District 10 Female

For the first time in the past two days, I wake up, mostly refreshed and ready. I get out of bed and stretch, being the first time I've gotten out bed for something other than the bathroom. I walk in circles for a bit, and I know I've recovered. Just in time too. The Reaping is at 2:00, and glancing at the clock in my room, it is 8:12, so the Reaping is in less than six hours.

I exit my room and go to the dining room, where mom's laid out more food than usual, because of the Reaping. Two slices of bread, which is rare, from the small bakery, coupled with some cheese and some meat made by the hands of our district, to make a happy sandwich. I grab a knife and carve a smiley face on my sandwich.

"There," I announce proudly, "it's a happy sandwich."

Mom and dad chuckle slightly. I rarely have sandwiches, I rarely have two slices of bread or cheese. But, today is special. It's meant to calm my nerves. I eat gratefully.

I'm glad that dad doesn't have to head out for work today. Of course, that means it's either Sunday or Reaping Day, and today, it's the latter.

After eating and straightening my hair and whatnot, I realize that it's only 8:45, and the Reaping broadcast doesn't start until 9:30. I watch it because it gives a preview of the tributes, and it also makes me feel sorry for the young tributes, especially. It hurts to see them go on stage, and, paradoxically, that's why I like to watch the Reapings.

To use some time, I try on my Reaping dress. A yellow dress, that was slightly big for me last year, but it fits perfectly today. It falls to a few inches below my knees, and the top hugs me, but not overly so. Overall, I look good in this.

I twirl into the living room, where my parents clap at my dramatic appearance. "Fits you perfectly now, I assume," dad says.

I nod, then notice that the pre-Reaping stuff has already started. Duh. I totally knew that.

We can watch up to District 8, before we have to head out to the Square ourselves. It's not too far away, but we'll need 20 minutes.

I sit down and watch with my parents.

Juno Taurus, 17

District 10 Male

Normally, I would watch with the rest of my family. But sometimes the heartbreak from the reaped, the arrogance of the volunteers is hard to watch. This year, I'll read some of the past games instead of watch.

I find a quiet corner of the house, which, of course, is my room, and am about to turn to the next Games, when something in the Table of Contents catches my eye.

The 74th Hunger Games, and under that, the subtitle of The Love Games. Even more intriguing, is the victor listed. Or rather, the victors. On top of that, it was apparently the pair from District 12 of all places that made it through. What?!

The Table of Contents lists the page at 745, but I could figure that out by myself. Five pages of introduction, and then, 10 pages per games.

The 74th Hunger Games is the only Hunger Games where two people were declared victors. I read. The arena was a half-field half-forest terrain.

"Juno, are you going to watch?"

I see grandma come into my room, and look at me, questionably.

I sigh. Just when was getting to something good. But grandma sees my expression, and she guesses exactly what I was thinking.

"You don't have to, on my account."

"No, no, I'll go watch," I say, trying to hide my half-heartedness.

I put a bookmark in my book, and shelve it. I will read it later, maybe sneak at it during the Reaping. I doubt that anyone would notice. The book has really fine paper, so the 1000 page book is about the size of a similar 300 page book. I'll be able to conceal it easily enough.

Watching the Reapings, aside from the Careers, only two tributes look odd. There's a strong-looking girl from 7, even the commentators, dumb as they are, pick up on this, who volunteers. If I didn't know better, I'd say that she trained for the Games. Her partner also looks muscular, but he was reaped, so I don't know.

Then, there's the girl from 8 who seems, I don't know, energized, maybe. She seems excited, if not nervous to be reaped. I think she has something wrong in the head, I've never seen someone excited to be reaped.

But after District 8, there's only 30 minutes until our own Reaping starts, and 30 minutes after that, two tributes will have been selected to be shipped to the Capitol, where they'll be killed like livestock waiting to be slaughtered.

Elizabella Lovelock, 16

District 10 Female

I instinctively jerk my hand back when I feel the needle make contact with my skin. But it's already drawn a small dot of blood, which the machine registers. It displays my name, and the peacekeeper waves me through.

Reaching the 16 year old girls section, I scan for Clementine, so I can call her Clem before she calls me Eliza.

Having no luck, I delve into the crowd, looking carefully for curly blond hair, indicative of Clementine.

"Hey, Eliza!" a voice that could only be Clementine's says. I scowl and turn to my right, and see her, grinning, and waving at me. Half-reluctantly, I join her.

"First shots," Clem claims.

"Dibs, Clem. Second shots." I shoot back.

"If we're both holding guns, but I shoot first, you won't get to shoot back, Eliza."

"And if you miss, I'll get you, Clem."

But the chiming of the bell with two clear notes silences everyone. It is now 2:00, and the escort, Albinus, starts the Reapings for us.

Johnathan Wilford

Head Gamemaker

Oddly enough, I hear a lot of coughing as I listen to Albinus give the speech, the Treaty of Treason. Since I essentially know the speech by heart, I scan the crowd to find the serial cougher, only to realize that there's multiple coughers. Maybe 10 is going through another epidemic. If this is the beginning, tomorrow they'll see a whole bunch of sick people, but if this is the dwindling end, then most of them should be fine in a few days. At any rate, reaping a sick person is no big deal, just give them a shot of antibacterial or antiviral medicine, and they'll be good to go for the Games or for training or for whatever.

Finally, Albinus reaches the part everyone cares about. He goes to the girls ball, and selects one slip of paper, and, especially in the outer districts, there's a large sense of unity during this time, as you can hear a collective breath as everyone waits for the name.

Albinus read out, "Elizabella Lovelock," followed by his own addition, "you have been chosen as the District 10 Female!"

I scan the crowd, and my years of watching the games allows me to pick out one girl who looks astonished, before she starts to sniffle, and tears streak down her face. She doesn't move and the peacekeepers have to come in. She doesn't resist them, but she needs their guidance, apparently. By the time she reaches the stage, though, she's managed to compose herself. Somewhat, anyway.

Albinus is all smiles, ignoring the sympathy towards Elizabella and the hatred toward himself, and goes right on to the boys. This time, he makes a bit of a show selecting a name, which forces some of the people who can't hold their breath for too long to exhale before the reading of the name.

When he's happy with the amount of exhales, he picks up the microphone, which causes everyone to inhale again. A frown crosses his face, but he continues on. "Juno Taurus, you have been chosen as the District 10 Male!"

Funny, if I wasn't keeping track of where we were, I'd have guessed that Juno was a girl. As it is, though, I hear a thump, and think that the person has fainted. But I'm proven wrong when someone crouches down to pick up something, shoves said thing into his pocket, before he walks up to the stage by himself. He seems to be going for the 'I'm confident in the face of the Games,' but beyond his appearance, I sense dread and shock. Juno is holding together well, though. He seems fit, probably from helping at the ranches. Maybe a better shot than most, and especially his partner. If only I knew what was in his pocket, which he has not let go of.

Albinus wraps everything up, and I grab my trusty notebook and write down my first impressions. Neither of them seem the rebellious kind, so I don't need to tamper with their odds or downplay them or anything. Just genuine first impressions.

Juno Taurus, 17

District 10 Male

My feigned composure breaks almost as soon as I'm led into the room. I let some tears out, before wiping them away. With some emotion vented, I try to think of how I'll make it out.

I can use a knife, I know that for sure, but getting one is really risky, and certainly I don't want to receive one the wrong way. Then, I realize that my left hand has been clutching my pocket for some time. It's my book. And I realize what an advantage this could be.

My parents and grandma come in first, and they have sadness mixed with a bit of terror worn on their faces. Dad just says, "we'll leave all the decisions to whoever your mentor is . . . we won't risk giving bad advice."

I understand what dad is saying, but I sort of want his take. But I can't get my mouth to say it, because I don't want to conflict dad. I embrace all of my family, and then just sit in sad silence until the time is up and they must leave.

A few minutes later, Jasper comes in, and he's apparently brimming with stuff, although it's hampered by sadness.

"Juno, you're at an advantage," I hear, "aside from the Careers, you can use a weapon, and you're healthy and fit. But I wouldn't show it, or the Careers would single you out, and make you a top priority."

It makes sense, but there's a problem with appearing weak with a strong build. Maybe I could go for mediocre.

"And . . . then . . ." but Jasper seems to have forgotten what he wanted to say. His eyes brim with tears, and he chokes out, "Sorry . . . I . . . can't remember . . ."

Him crying leads me to vent out more emotion, but I must appear tearless, at the very least, show that I'm emotionally strong in front of the cameras.

Jasper is taken away, and I'm left, with only me, and one golden book that could save my life.

Elizabella Lovelock, 16

District 10 Female

I start crying openly once I see my parents. I don't know if they have comforting words or not, but I won't be able to hear them. I'm trapped in my own world of sadness.

I'm being sent to be killed. Mom and dad hug me tightly, but it doesn't help me, if anything, more tears stream down my face.

All I do manage to hear is to run at the start. Run away. I don't have a shot in the bloodbath. Just get away.

When mom and dad leave, I cry harder than ever, I won't see them again, unless I make it out alive. But inside, I know I can't. I'll be taken down by something. A well-thrown knife. A powerful strike. Something . . .

Clementine comes in, and, thankfully, she doesn't call me Eliza. She tries to comfort me and stop the tears, but I can't stop them. They keep coming.

She tells me the same things that mom and dad said, but it's hopeless. Most likely, I'm dying and never seeing 10 again. Even my partner has a better shot than me.

Clementine just hugs me, wipe my face with her own sleeve, but my face is hopelessly marred with tears. Eventually, she's forced to leave, and I'm left alone with practically no chance of survival.

Just two districts left until the real stuff begins! These updates are taking a while, I know, but it probably won't get much better. Sorry. :( Other than that, I really don't have much else to say. Except for questions.

How will Juno's book help him? He obviously won't be allowed to bring his book into the Games, but what will he do with it in the week before the games? Does Elizabella have a realistic chance with her state of mind? What will she do in the week prior?