Carly Cane

"This is the punishment! You cannot escape the Capitol. The Capitol sees all! You will be forced to suffer for your wrongdoings," the Head Peacekeeper, Shea Crest, lifts her whip high into the air and strikes it onto her victim. I can hear the whip crack, even from where I stand in the back of the crowd. I don't want to see this, but I have to. As a punishment for the Rebellion our District held, twenty citizens were selected at random to be whipped. The rest of us are forced to stand and watch.

"District Twelve," Shea spits out. "The most pathetic District. You think you stand a chance against the Capitol?" She again strikes the victim, a girl in her early twenties. The girl screams in pain. The Capitol thinks that this will make the District fall into line? If anything, watching this girl get tortured only makes the District want to rebel more.

Only about half of our athletic and able District members had rebelled. I hadn't done anything, and neither had my sisters. However, the entire District knew about the rebellion afterwards. It was the biggest rebellion in our history. Nearly two hundred citizens were in on the plan.

Yesterday, all the involved citizens gathered at the electric border fence, which had been off at the time. The group, making as much noise as they could, climbed the fence and ran to the woods. By the time Peacekeepers had arrived, alerted by the sounds, the group was deep into the forest. When Peacekeepers caught up, the group split up, into groups of five. They ran in every direction. With so many people, the Peacekeepers didn't know who to chase. The people slowly wandered back to the fence, which was poorly guarded due to the Peacekeepers being scattered. Seven rebels were shot dead, but that number was surprisingly small. The groups had stayed so distant that the Peacekeepers couldn't determine who was involved. The whipping was the solution.

"No!" I hear Bree, my fourteen year old sister, gasp and look to the floor. She is a tender soul, watching the whippings is especially painful for her.

"Shhh," I whisper to Bree. "We'll be home soon." Bree nods, and continues to stare down. I look to my other sister, Elly. Elly is thirteen, but she is far stronger than Bree. Now, she's standing quietly and staring at the Justice Building. Usually, it's hard to guess what she's thinking, but today she just looks ticked off. She is trying to ignore the inhumanity present just beside her, but I can see that she finds the whippings a waste; irrational.

Bree starts to moan again, haunted by the sounds of torture. Elly turns to her and pats her thin shoulders. "Just close your eyes," Elly says calmly. "The sun is going down. You'll be all right," Elly starts to sing, an old ballad that is often whispered by the oppressed in our District. It's something of a folk song; age old and known by everyone. "No one can hurt you now. In morning light, you and I will be safe and sound." A thin smile creeps onto Bree's face. Elly and Bree have a friendship I've always been jealous of. They love me, but they've been friends since birth. They're real sisters.

I was an orphan until my adoptive "parents" took me in. I lived on the streets until I was twelve, when Bree was nine and Elly was eight.

For years, I roamed these empty streets, pickpocketing people and stealing in an attempt to sell my gains on the black market. I was constantly hungry, but that was just a way of life. When I was eleven, Elly and Bree's family, who I hadn't known at the time, started leaving a glass of water on their front step for me every day. I would drink it in the shadows, trying not to be seen by other pedestrians. Eventually the Canes started leaving little pieces of bread. I continued to be fed by them, until it was winter.

One mid December morning, I came to look for my food and drink, and I instead found Mrs. Cane, Amy, or Mom, waiting for me. I tried to run away, but she called me back. She insisted that I come in, eat, and warm up. I, being increasingly cold, agreed to the deal. What I didn't know was that I was being adopted, taken in by the Cane's as their own.

Although the Cane's aren't rich, they are more affluent than most in the District. Buckley, my "dad," works in the coal mines but Amy works as the Mayor, Fraise Undersee's, head secretary. Due to the double income and my "mom's" successful job, we've always had enough food for everyone.

Now I live comfortably with the timid but sweet Bree and the mysterious Elly. Even though I know they love me, there's still something between them that I wish happened between one of them and me.

Bree Cain

As soon as the whippings were over, everyone was escorted home. The Reapings will be held in that exact same location in just one hour. I shiver. If only our town square ever held anything good.

I get home and slip on a light pink dress that falls just to my knees. My hair is brown and straight, the same as Elly's, and my eyes are brown, just like Elly's, but I've always been considered the prettier of us. I think it has something to do with the fact that Elly never smiles at anyone but her family. I try to look pleasant, but in public, Elly always scowls.

As soon as my dress is on, I head outside. I wander from our house out to the areas near the fence. Eventually, I find the spot I'm looking for. The willow tree.

The willow tree is in a sunny but untouched corner of the District, barely inside of the fence. I sit at the base, gazing off through the fence to a meadow. I watch as butterflies and squirrels carry on their daily lives. They appear so calm, so serene. I wish my life could be that simple.

But it's not. Today will be my third time in the Reapings. I'm terrified, with everything in me, that I could be Reaped. But not only that - my sisters could be Reaped too. I love my family more than anything, and I'm a very peaceful person. The concept of the Games kills me, I can't imagine how I'd do in the actual Games. I don't want to.

That's why I'm sitting under the willow. I found a spot where no one can hurt me. I would love to stay, but unfortunately, the Capitol doesn't spare anyone.

Kayan Pierce

Yarrow, I think to myself as I sort a yellow looking weed into a stack on my right. Poisonous if eaten, but commonly used in medicine.

Pine needles. I sort the thin needles into a different pile. If ground into tea, known to have soothing qualities.

Wild strawberries. Delicious, although not abundant in flavor. I move these to a stack on my right.

Nightlock. Instant death to anyone who swallows them. I squeeze the berries between my fingers and smile as the poisonous juice spurts out around me. Little drops of death are now scattered on my clothes. Oh well. I smile and throw the ripped skins to the side. Nightlock can't kill by touch.

I silently stand up and examine my piles. Simple. Too simple. I need a challenge! I stomp my foot onto the pile of yarrow and grind it, smiling as poofs of dirt rise around my thin shoes. I don't pity the destruction, the waste of all the plants I gathered. I never use them anyways. My father is the town butcher. We can afford real medicine.

I remember the whippings clearly, the tortured screams elicited from citizens young and old, but what I remember more is the set up. Today is the Reapings. However, I feel like today there's not one, but two rounds of this wretched event.

Before the whippings, the Peacekeepers forced all of the District Twelve citizens out of their homes. Using the threat of their guns, they herded all of the people into the lawn in front of the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers had no tolerance for stragglers. They lashed out their whips at young children and even shot one old lady who simply couldn't maintain the pace. She died instantly, but what was more tragic was the moaning shout of shock and horror that came from the woman's elderly husband. He too was shot and killed.

When everyone had reached the town square, they Peacekeepers barricaded us in. The head Peacekeeper, Shea Crest, smirked as she stood in front of us. She is the youngest Peacekeeper in the history of Panem, at eighteen, but she's not any bit less cruel. Her appearance is almost normal - pale skin, black hair pulled back in a tight bun, light brown eyes - but her grin, which bears resemblance to that of the "hyena mutts" from the arena last year, is so twisted and maniacal that she is painful to look at.

Her smile plastered firm, Shea had said, "May the odds be ever in your favor." The District had a feeling of impending doom. Shea had excitedly pulled out the first name, "Derrik Guster," and victim walked to the stage.

I had to watch the others suffer, yes, but at the same time, I was too busy fretting over the idea of getting "Reaped" myself to care for the others. There are approximately 750 members of District Twelve. Twenty citizens were chosen to be whipped. Although not drastically high, there was a notable chance that I could have been "Reaped." How could the Capitol do this to us? I find the idea that the entire Capitol is made of people like Shea terrifying.

Because of my occasionally violent tendencies, people always assume that I love the Games. I wish I could tell them that they are wrong.

But I can't. Ever since the age of two, I haven't uttered a single word. I suppose it was a form of developmental issues, but I don't mind. When put on the spot, no one expects me to be the leader, or to be witty. And anyways - I don't think that humans as a whole deserve my thoughts. I believe that most of them, especially the Capitol citizens, are too stupid to even comprehend me.

Jaymon "Jay" Pierce

"What are you going to wear?" I ask my twin Luka. Luka shifts his weight from his left foot to his right. "What?"

"I'm not sure..." Luka looks around. "I was gonna wait for after you so that we didn't match. I mean, it doesn't matter to me."

"That works," I smile. I quickly pull through my wardrobe and find one of the two suits I own. This one is an odd color, maroon, but it goes nice with my dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. Great contrast.

Luka pulls out a black suit, quickly changes, and follows me out the door of our house. Our silent brother, Kayan, is staring out in the distance with his eyes glazed over. I can tell he's still startled from the whippings, but he hides it. He is really strong, especially for a twelve year old.

As we walk down the street, I quickly spot a group of girls, who are grinning and waving at me. I wave back and the girls giggle. Although Luka and I are identical, Luka is shy and I'm quite the ladies man. And, I am pretty impressive. I've won more - and been in more fights - than anyone in the District. The girls stumble over their feet and one falls forward, getting bumped from the girl behind her. They quickly run off.

I smile to myself. I like being viewed as the most impressive man in the proximity, especially because I know I'm not. Kayan - he is a mathematical genius. His memory is almost photographic. And Luka - Luka is amazing at climbing trees. Not to mention, he's caring and he looks after Kayan when I don't.

I'm the toughest, sure, and the most popular, but there's no doubt in my mind that I'm anything but the worst brother.

Elly Cain

I hold back any tears as I feel my blood being drawn. Carly does the same, but although Bree attempts not to cry too, she couldn't hold it back. She's not as strong as I am.

I filter into the 13's section, where most of the kids are trembling. I don't know... The Games never scared me as much as they've scared other kids. I've always thought that, although the Games are cruel, they'd be fun to win. I mean, riches beyond my imagination and... The feeling of being a Victor.

Eriabella Cobrez, our escort, shuffles onto the stage. She's much less excited than the typical escort. In fact, I think she hates her job. She only wears black, and she has heavy black make up. No one's ever seen her smile.

She eyes over the silent crowd. After a short history, she cuts to the chase. "The girl tributes will be the daughters of..." she draws a name, "Buckley Cane." Wait... That's my Dad. I slowly begin to walk forward. Carly is coming forward too, a few tears streaming down her face. Where's Bree?

I run to the fourteen's section. "Bree!" Someone points to my right. I push through the children and see Bree, who's passed out on the floor. "Bree!" I shake her, and she finally opens her eyes. Instantly, she starts crying.

"I can't Elly! I can't!" She sobs.

"It's all right," I help her up. Together, we walk to the stage.

I know I shouldn't be, but I'm smiling. This is the Hunger Games! Isn't that exciting?

Luka Pierce

I watch with pity as three sisters walk to the stage. The sight of the younger sister helping her older sister to the stage is startlingly heartbreaking. I've always been the sensitive, even though I hate that about myself.

I'm distracted enough that I hardly hear the name called. Matea Pierce. I recognize a moment later, as the sounds settle into my mind. Wait - Mom?

I watch Jaymon walk to the stage emotionlessly and, swallowing my pride, follow him. I manage to make it to the stage without a single tear, despite the doubts whirring through my mind. Kayan isn't so lucky. The escort, seemingly bored, asks Kayan for our names, but he doesn't speak, as usual. Trying to protect my brother from the judgmental Capitol, I answer for him.

AN

Wow. Sorry for the super late review. But... The Reapings are done! Yes! Thanks CitrusBreeze for the Pierce family and TheHungerGamesMockingJay for the Canes. Thanks to all my reviewers, favoriters, an followers.

The poll decided, in a vote of eight to four, that I should write all of the Goodbyes, so that is what I will do. Now, however, I am putting up a favorite tribute poll! The poll will, in some ways, affect my decision for Victor. Please don't vote for your own tribute.

Please review! Silent readers... This message is for you. Any review - even criticism - helps me improve. Thanks!

"You've got to go through it to get to the end of it."

~Oceane