Hope everyone had a great Christmas- sorry for the wait, I've been out going to Christmas parties, having a life etcetera ;D Well, the time has come for me to write another chapter. I've had a little too much caffiene, so excuse the odd writing/behaviour.

BORGY COTTER, DISTRICT 11 MALE

I am awoken by the smell of frying potatoes. Lying on my back, I inhale the smell, before sitting up and rubbing sleep dust from my eyes. One of the advantages of being adopted by the Mayor, is that you always have enough to eat. Once, before I was taken in, I was malnourished and gaunt faced. Now, I am sturdy and strong- stronger than most in this District. However, the dirt of the streets, metaphorically at least, can never leave you.

Because I will never love anyone again. When you've experienced the pain of losing your parents, and not even knowing where they are and why they abandoned you, you know you can never afford to do something like that.

However, I lead a good life now. Living with the Mayor and his wife has many perks about it: a priveleged lifestyle, for example. They don't have any children of their own because of... um... fertility issues, which is why they took me in. Rita, the Mayor's wife (who wishes for me to call her "Mum" but I never have), saw me on the streets, and her already soft-heart melted.

She is my saviour, and I'll protect her with all I have.

Walking over to my dresser, I pull out a fine-toothed comb and begin to run it through my hair, before shooting myself a quick smile in the mirror. Then, I pull on some clothes, eventually fixing a small knife to my belt. People say I'm paranoid, but I always worry about getting attacked on the streets. Old habits die hard, they say, because I love wandering around the backstreets alone, like I did when I was a little boy.

Luckily, from years of having to defend myself, I learned how to use and throw knives. I haven't lost the habit, out of paranoia that I will be abandoned again, so I practise as often as I can. Pulling the small knife out of my belt, I play with it expertly between my fingers, before flicking it at the wall. It hits home, and I feel a slight surge as triumph, as I always do when I hit the target correctly.

"Borgy! Come on down for breakfast!"

I walk downstairs, to find my adoptive parents sitting at the kitchen table, tucking into plates of fried potatoes and toast. There is a plate laid out for me and, smiling at them, I sit down and begin tucking into it heartily. One thing that living on the street has taught me is to never stop eating.

Rita laughs at my enthusiasm, and Mayor Ludwig lets out a rumble that could be a chuckle. He doesn't talk very often, to me at least, but he's a good, caring man.

After I finish my plateful, I get to my feet and bid them both farewell. As it's the Reaping today, and there's a possibility that it'll be my last day in this district, I think I'll go on one last tour of the backstreets... No, I won't, actually. Since everyone will be asleep, there won't be any witnesses... And there's a high likelihood, given the fact I'm not as tiny as I used to be and I can't hide so easily, I'll get mugged.

Stepping out of the door, I head towards the main residential area where my friends live. Some people wonder why I'm not friends with the other rich town kids, but I just can't find my place among them. We don't think in the same way, and we weren't raised with the same mindset. Sure, the Mayor and his wife have spoiled me a little bit, but since I was not born with it, things are different. Those kids are all assured of what they're going to do, and know their place in life.

I never really have worked mine out.

"Hey, Borgy." Spinning around, I almost crash into Jarrar. He's a bit of a strange kid, always has been, but he's one of my closest friends. We met through my best friend Peter a few years ago (they are cousins), and he's been surprising me ever since. I punch him on the shoulder as a greeting- a little too hard, apparently, because he winces and steps back. Shooting him an apologetic look, I reply,

"Morning, Jarrar. Are Peter and Cleo about?"

Cleo is my other close friend. She's a girl, and usually I wouldn't hang out with girls because... well, a lot of the girls in this district are rather boring. Not meant in a sexist way, but they just don't like to do the sort of things I like to do (play football, wrestle etcetera), so they aren't much fun to hang around with. Alright, alright, I sound like a little boy. I'm actually sixteen, believe it or not.

"Yeah, your girlfriend is somewhere about," Jarrar teases, winking at me. I scowl and cross my arms.

"Cleo is not my girlfriend! She's just my friend who happens to be a girl."

A mockingly surprised expression comes onto Jarrar's face, and he grins at me. "Dude, I was talking about Peter. Anyway, they're just coming."

And, following his eyes, I spot Cleo and Peter walking towards us from behind one of the huts. They both smile and run over, and we're soon exchanging greetings, albeit a little nervously. Everyone in this district gets nervous on Reaping day, those three a lot more than myself. You know why? Because they don't know how to use weapons, and have to take mountains of tessera, unlike myself.

Being the Mayor's son does have some perks.

We walk to the Reaping together and soon register, before I line up with the other sixteen year old boys. Cleo gives me a hug for good luck (very embarrassing- I'm blushing like a tomato), before walking off to join the other girls. Peter and Jarrar open their mouths to start making fun of me when the district escort coughs loudly and begins her speech.

And soon enough, it's time for the boys to be Reaped.

"Borgy Cotter!"

Silence. I feel my whole body tense up as, for a second, I gasp. How can this be happening? For a few moments I just stand still, before shakily beginning to walk to the front, barely processing what is happening around me. My heart is thumping hard against my ribcage as I go to join the district escort and my adoptive father onstage. We exchange a long look, before I bow my head and wait for it all to be over.

ALEXANDRA "WITCH" REUBEN, DISTRICT 11 FEMALE

I've been training to be a Peacekeeper almost all of my life. That sounds a little strange, doesn't it? A shy, meek girl from District 11 training to enforce the law in other districts... Especially when I think the whole situation with the districts is terrible. Having parents who are Peacekeepers tends to seal the deal. They settled in this district from a different one, not sure which, and have decided that I am to follow their trade. And that, my friends, is the end of it.

Rolling my shoulders back, I glance down at the xiphos in my hand. A xiphos is a double edged sword, used by the civilization Ancient Greece before the Dark Days. It's practical and good for me, and is one of the weapons Peacekeepers are given. My mother also teaches me how to use a baton, the main weapon used by law-enforcers, but I don't like it. It makes me feel like some kind of oppressive bitch.

"That's enough, Alex," I hear a voice from behind me, and almost drop the xiphos to the floor in shock. When I realise that it's my mother standing there, I let out a sigh of relief and walk over to the weaponry rack, slotting it into place. Then, I wipe some of the sweat off my forehead and walk to the door, slipping past my mother. She shoots me a look of slight pride, before following me into the hallway.

My parents never went to all of this bother with my older sister Lilly. She was free to do pretty much whatever she wanted, and that mostly consisted of hanging around with her boyfriend Jerry. He was a good guy, but he volunteered for the Games a few years ago and died. Killed by the boy from District 1, which was a surprise because he didn't seem a bad sort for a Career, and Jerry was practically invincible. We were all rooting on him to win.

Jerry's death is one of the reasons people call me Witch. This is going to sound strange, but... I'm eighteen years old, and I've been friends with thirteen of our tributes. People say that I'm unlucky and ill-fated, and I can't help but agree with them. Things always seem to go wrong when I'm around.

Pulling the door to my room open, I walk over to the drawers and begin to rifle through them, searching for my Reaping clothes. At eighteen years old, it is my last year before I have to become a Peacekeeper and forget all about the Games. I wonder where I'll be assigned? Maybe to District 4; I've always wanted to see the sea.

When I'm changed, I walk out of the door to find my sister Lilly sitting at the kitchen table, sipping from a cup of tea. She smiles at me when we see each other, and she extends her arms for a hug. She looks weary; she always has, ever since Jerry died. I don't think she'll ever get another boyfriend, because she misses him too much.

"Hey, little sister. Last one and then it's all over." she mutters in my ear, before letting go. I sit down beside her and, together, we sip our way through a few cups of weak tea. As strange and oddly normal it seems to sit with your older sister and chat about idle things, it's what I need right now. Because I'm nervous.

After a little while, my mother walks in and informs me that it's time for the Reaping. I nod grimly, knowing what this means. Pretty much tomorrow, I'll be shipped off to be a Peacekeeper. Today is, essentially, my last day of freedom... Fantastic last day, might I add. I'm totally exhilarated to be put into a raffle where the winner dies. Maybe that sounds a little harsh, but I find the whole thing disgusting. How is the Capitol showing themselves to be "Just Leaders", if they're slaughtering the workers of their population? What will happen in a few years, say, when they don't have any workers left to kill? Because they're wiping out generations of kids. I would've thought they needed all of the slaves they could get to continue their fatcat lives...

Wow. If I say any of that out loud, I will be shot. But it was very satisfying to think it. What a fantastic, loyal law-enforcer I will be, huh?

I walk down the street towards the square, ignoring the mutters of "Witch" directed at me. I don't really have the backbone to reply, since I sort of agree. I miss Jerry a lot, and I especially miss the days when him, me and Lilly would go and watch the mockingjays in the orchard.

Registering myself, I walk over to the girl's side and stand as near the front I can with the other eighteen year olds. The district escort almost immediately comes onto the stage and begins her usual speech: she talks about the Dark Days and how amazing the Capitol is and all that. Then, she calls out a boy.

I don't recognise him. He looks a couple of years younger than me, and looks quite stocky and strong... He'll be a competitor, I think. However, I've been wrong before. I thought Jerry was going to win, and some little braniac from District 3 did instead. Most people believe that the boy who came second, a frizzy haired kid from District 8, deserved to win instead, because he basically sacrificed his life for the boy from District 3 to win... But I liked the winner. Matthis. He was nice.

I'm thinking about it just as a name is called.

"Alexandra Reuben!"

N-no. My God... This, this can't be happening! I can feel everyone's eyes upon me, and I swallow, trying desperately not to cry. I can feel tears pricking at my eyes, but I brush them away and walk up to the stage as steadily as I can. If I want... if I want sponsors, I'm going to have to appear as stoic and brave as I can.

Facing the boy, I shake his hand... And then I look out into the crowd. For a few moments I'm completely still and silent, like a rabbbit caught in the headlights... Then I burst into tears.