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Spruce Ashmark (D7 Male)

A spruce was a type of tree, tall and stretching its arms to the sky, covered in thick green leaves that remained the same color all year. In the winter, it was coated with pale white snow; in the summer it cast a greenish-black shadow directly onto the ground. There were a lot of spruces in Seven, mainly because it was the lumber District and had an infinite amount of trees to cut down, but also because one of them was named that. Spruce Ashmark, named after a tree. Basically like a tree: he had its green-leafed protectiveness, plus its hard-working attitude during the winter.

Spruce Ashmark was me. Sixteen years old, tall and stalky, with ocean blue eyes(though I'd never seen the ocean before) and streaked golden-blond hair. I tried to protect my sister and my friends as best as I could, since my parents were dead and I was the only one who could. I often wished I were a better brother, somebody stronger and not so weak, and that was what I was determined not to be.

When my parents had died, my mother when she was giving birth to my sister and my father from a falling tree, we had been sent to live with our aunt Ellie and uncle Moss. Ellie was a pretty interesting person. I had often observed her in our first days, wondering why she tried to hide something, and what it was. I later found out that it was depression.

Moss was just your typical childless uncle. He always looked at me with this blue glow in his eyes, as if he thought I was the son he could never have. He was easygoing and ordinary, almost too ordinary, but let me go on with what I had to do, not having much of an authority over me.

My sister, her name was Sprig. She was almost four years old and really sweet and cute- about the only one besides my best friend that could make me laugh. She looked like me, the same deep blue eyes, golden-blonde hair, just without the brown streaks.

So yeah. That was basically my family, although really it began on the day before the Reaping, when I was talking with my sister before bed. She had never stayed up this late and there were dark circles beneath her eyes; I made sure to promise myself that I would get her to bed before ten.

"Spwuce, tell me that stowy about the Districts again!" Sprig begged, blue eyes shining with her childlike mirth. "Pleeeease?"

I nodded, halfway zoned out of the conversation. This happened to me frequently, just me thinking of other things and not paying attention to the actual world. The exhaustion had paid off on me today and I had gotten a bit irritated because of it. But with my sister, I could always afford the sparking gold happiness at the very pit of my stomach.

Summoning all my happiness to my voice, which was very little, to say the least, I said, "We'll begin with One. And remember, pay attention. There'll be questions at the end of each part."

Sprig nodded impatiently, propping her chin on her hands, looking up at me as I told the story through wide-eyed, fervent attention. "It all begins with the Capitol, of course. They organized the people into thirteen Districts and gave them things to do. Like?" I ended the part with a question, asking for her to continue with the answer.

Sprig gave a slight, "Hmm," which was both amusing and sigh-worthy at the same time. She was so young and understood so little of the world. I didn't expect her to hear the dark, moody opinions in my voice, beneath all the layers of fact.

"Luctuwry, masonwy..." She began naming the uses of all the Districts.

"Good," I said approvingly when she was done. Sprig had taken a special liking to the history of Panem, insisting that even though she was very young, she ought to know it. I wanted to tell it to her in a very opinionated way, where I would say the Hunger Games was terrible and the Capitol was wrong. Normally I had no time at all to make opinions about the Capitol, since my work time had increased, but my brooding personally began to grow over the years, finally coming to this. Me, now.

I talked on about District One, saying that they were the District who made luxury items for the Capitol, and Sprig's eyes sparkled with envy. She had always had a thing for jewelry, always demanding why she didn't have any herself. I had to explain to her that wasn't fortunate enough to be in a richer District. The only thing close to jewelry we had was a wooden ring carved from the bark of a spruce tree with a small piece of metal set in the middle.

Then I went on to Two, talking about how they housed Peacekeepers-in-training and produced weapons of all sorts. Sprig asked why they didn't just use those weapons to rebel, though she said it with a disbelieving air, and I replied, "They can't, they must be heavily guarded."

Next was Three. District Three made technology and that kind of thing, but Sprig was easily bored about the subject so I hurried on quickly.

We talked briefly about District Four's fishing, Sprig saying that she bet if she were in Four, she could catch as many fish as anyone. I patted her head affectionately, my heart warming for the instant at her childish humor.

There was not much to say about Five. None of us knew much about it, and they never included a lot in the history books so we lingered little on the subject.

Six was the same. I made a few remarks on transportation, but altogether, it wasn't that interesting and Sprig demanded I continue.

Then was Seven, our District, the District of lumber and the District I knew most about. There was a huge forest with tons and tons of trees, and out job was to just cut those trees down, every last one, and make them into useful lumber from the bark. It was a dangerous job that we were all born into, unless we were lucky and were part of a baker or sewer's family.

Afterward was Eight, similar to Five and Six and not capturing Sprig's interest too much. She got most of the questions wrong and earnestly said, "Spruce, it doesn't matter whether we lwearn about Weight, go on to Nine!"

I did as she asked, even though I knew she would show as little interest on Nine as of Eight. It was about grain, blah blah blah blah blah, grain, grain, and more grain.

Continuing along the line was Ten, the District of livestock. Sprig said fervently, "I would lwike to have my own hawse!" I smiled at her, a slight sparkle in my eye that only came from talking to my amazing little sister.

Next was Eleven, all about agriculture. Sprig showed as much interest on it as the rest of the middle Districts, so we hurried on quickly. Afterward was Twelve, which sent her into wide-eyed anticipation. She always listened during Twelve, for whatever reason I did not know.

"Twelve is the District of coal," I told her. "They sometimes have coal accidents with mining and all that, kind of like we do with trees. But I suppose every District has their dangers and downsides."

"Now thuhteen," Sprig said excitedly. This was what she paid the most attention to in the whole story.

"Thirteen." I took a deep breath in, let it out with a sigh. "The Capitol burned it down, all the way to the ground, and every known inhabitant was killed." A heavy feeling feel on my heart, a sudden gloominess coming over me. "It's terrible, I know."

"Oh." Sprig shared my sympathy in her wide blue eyes, eyebrows knitting together. Her soft voice barely stirred the air as she looked down at the ragged carpet, thinking for a moment. "Is that..is that bad of the Capitol?" She couldn't bear to think that the Capitol was actually so ruthless.

"Yes..yes it is, Sprig," I answered sympathetically, knowing she would take it hard. Sprig always had a certain faith in the Capitol, but every time District Thirteen's story came around, she was always stricken by the amount of cruelty in their ruler's actions.

Sprig said, "oh," again, this time much quieter and with a tone in her voice that suggested she wasn't the happy, careful child he knew. He had a feeling she was thinking, thinking about what he had just said and rolling the words over in her mind.

I got up and left her to sit alone on the carpet, pressing a kiss into her golden hair and silently treading to my room, the moodiness wearing me down.

Alea Bryce (D7 Female)

"Oh no, you don't," snarled the red-faced girl across from me. "You wanna fight?"

I sneered. "Bring it on."

This was how every other day was like in the Community Home, me picking fights with the weaker kids and winning. I knew, of course, that I shouldn't bother the older ones, who stayed at a respectful distance, but I was pretty sure I could beat Jessie, who looked like she'd never held an axe in her life.

"First," I said briskly, "pick your weapon."

Jessie pushed a lock of stringy brown hair behind her shoulder and gaped at me. "Weapon?"

"You know. Axe. Club. Arrows," I said coolly, knowing she would have none of those and I would be free to pin her down with my axe. I had learned how to use one when I was younger, when I had known I had had to survive. These people were generally clueless.

My grip tightened on the wooden handle of my axe, as she did on her hair. "What are we fighting over?" she hissed.

I nodded at her lunch and she again became red-faced. "You can't have my lunch!" she cried out defiantly.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked her. "Are you saying that you're too weak to defend it?" I scoffed. The older kids always got their lunch first, leaving the younger kids behind with nothing. I usually picked fights with them and won over some meals.

"No way!" Jessie growled, already eyeing my axe uneasily. "But I don't have a weapon..."

"You don't need one. You can use your bare hands," I said coldly.

"Fine. Bring it on." Jessie looked around for really anything to use as a weapon and came up with nothing. I smirked. She'd have to use her bare hands then.

I had her easily pinned down in a matter of seconds, as she tried to dodge. I went straight forward, causing everyone to move out of the way and cutting a path right to my opponent, lifting my axe threateningly to those who didn't.

Jessie was pretty soft, there was definitely no muscle beneath the skin, and her palms were soft and delicate, no calluses marking them just yet. Staring fiercely down at her angered face, I twisted my axe between my fingers lazily, a cruel gleam in my eye. Another one beat. She was older than me, she had had more time to train. She had just not used that time properly.

"Let...me...GO! You little baby! Don't think you're so much better just because you beat me. I think you're disgusting." Jessie struggled beneath my firm grip, but couldn't managed to get out. I gazed coldly down at her. There was something about picking fights that was just stuck in my blood. However much I tried to resist my temper, it always flared.

"How so?" I asked coolly, my sharp green eyes narrowed, barely a sweat on my face.

"Look at yourself! For God's sake, you're using an axe. Nobody uses an axe for fun but you! I bet you cut off your hair with that axe of yours. Where'd you get it, huh? Your daddy. Oh, right, your daddy's left you." Jessie's lips curled back, and I stared with mute contempt at her long, tangled hair, always getting in the way, never cut because she couldn't afford to make a weapon like I had without getting her hands dirty. Soft, inexperienced Jessie, I thought mockingly.

"Oh, yeah? My daddy's left me?" I sneered down at her face, eyes flashing. "Well, look here. Who's got you pinned down? Who's won?" I smiled smugly. "Do you want me to break flesh? Cause I will if I have to."

For an instant, fear darted into Jessie's face. Then her eyes turned challenging and she demanded, "Go ahead."

"Gladly." I took the axe, and with a small movement, sliced into the skin of her bony arm. She bit her lip until it was white against a scream of pain, her eyes going wild and rolling, her arm shaking beneath my iron grip.

"Let me go!" she wailed again, her voice coming out as a gurgle, barely restraining pain. "Let me go!"

"Not until you admit that you were wrong," I snarled in her face.

"Fine!" Her eyes were wide now, the whites showing like miniature crescent moons. "Just-" She choked on her own desperate spit as she tried to get the words out before I dug the axe farther. "Just- let..." Her lower lip was white from biting it. "Let..me...go!"

Let me go. My victims' signature admittance of defeat. "Oh, I almost forgot," I added. "You also have to give me your lunch."

"But-" Her stomach growled as if she back up her resistance. She sent a darting glance to the lunch tray, packed with food. A look of bitter understanding came into her eyes, the knowledge that I had fought her because of the large quantity of food on her plate. She was probably making a note not to do this again.

"Fine." Those words made me let go of her. I picked up her tray with all its uneaten food and saw her look over regretfully at me. I shrugged, not caring, and began to pick out the best things to eat from there. There was a vine stocked with moldy grapes, throw that away. Then there was an okay-looking watermelon slice; I bit into it tentatively and discovered that it was slightly sweet. Good enough.

I finished up the watermelon and proceeded to look at my choices of meats. There was a small chunk of beef and a slice of pork. I wasn't too fond of either, but I chose beef, the dry meat looking at least better than the oily pork.

Digging my fork into the beef, I began cutting into the beef with my axe, ignoring the stares of other people. Sure, I had just used it to cut into somebody else's flesh, but hygiene wasn't too big on my list, so I passed with begging someone else for food.

I didn't eat the parts where the axe touched, so at least the stuff that went into my mouth was clean(ish). After I had picked my way through the beef, I chugged down a bottle of water, then threw the plate into the trash. I caught someone's eye, a scrawny blond boy, who was staring at my uneaten pork longingly, but nothing much went to my heart.

I gnawed on my lip, thinking what I should do. Should I go to the Reaping with everyone else at the Community Home, or should I go by myself? I decided the latter; it wasn't like I had any friends or anything to walk with, and exited the lunchroom into the cool, shady day.

Seven was more fortunate to have the shade of the trees. My shoes, patched but otherwise good, rustled the leaves around me, making that crunching sound I so used to love when I was little. Now I just found it annoying.

I began to see the Reaping, where it was a wide space and the sunlight filtered down in hot waves. This year it couldn't be that different. Sure, I was sixteen and there was one more in the bowl. But I didn't take tesserae. That would make my social status go way down and there was no way I would ever put my head up again. I had survived all the other years. I could survive this one.

Right?

A/N: WRONGGGGG. Okay, hope you enjoyed this chapter, I was getting too bored with writing just the Reaping so I changed it up a bit.

Now we are onto train rides! Hopefully updates will come faster, I think the longest you'll ever have to wait is like a week? Happened once or twice when I was too lazy to write, now my excuse is school. xD No, seriously. SCHOOL. P.S, I had to rewrite a part of this, and if it weren't for my awesome dad, then I would have lost even more. SO YAY.

8/19/17