A/N IT'S HERE! IT'S ONE HOUR LATE BUT IT'S HERE. DISTRICT TWELVE, HERE WE ARE.

Jessamine Hale, 14, District Twelve Female

Every morning, at about 8, the sun shines through the window and hits my bed. This is exactly what wakes me up. I sit up and rub my eyes before stretching. I look out the window. It's interesting really. On the left side is the town, which is nice in its own right, but on the right side is Victor's Village, which makes even the town look shabby. And if they look nice on the outside, with their clean windows and blooming shrubs, they look even nicer on the inside. Trust me; I know. After all, my dad and I live off of cleaning those houses. And they look nice. Those houses are two floors with an attic and a basement; we now have one floor. I know that my dad's old house in the Capitol had two floors, but that was before he and my mom moved here. The Capitol hired them to clean the Victor's Village here.

The delicious smell of bacon and eggs wafts into the room, so I get up and go to the bathroom to wash my face and comb my hair. When I'm done, I go to the kitchen to eat. My dad is taking bread out from the oven, and when he sees me, he puts down the food and wraps me in a big hug.

"Mornin' ," he says, and I squeeze him tighter. He's a little on edge because of the reapings today, but I don't worry much. I don't even know if my name is in the bowl; I'm technically still a citizen of the Capitol.

We sit down to eat. Because we have relatives in the Capitol, we get more than the rest of District Twelve. We occasionally get packages of food and other things, so our life here is pretty nice.

I finish my plate, wash it, and put it up to dry.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I'll go visit Kiera before the reaping, ok?"

"That's good. Make sure she isn't too busy."

"Okay."

I leave the house and skip up the road into Victor's Village. It's not a bad day today. The sun is shining, but there's a breeze so it isn't too hot. I walk up the red brick stairs of a red brick house and knock on the beautifully carved door. A few moments later, I hear the click of the door unlocking, so I open the door. She has buttons around the house that unlock the front door because she hates having to get up and come to the door.

"Come in," she calls. Kiera Isenham is the most recent Victor from District Twelve. She won… about 40 years ago, and she usually mentors alone because the only other Victor is ninety-year-old Jokthan Telfour, who's probably going to die soon. I call He by her first name because she says that calling her Ms. Isenham sounds too formal.

I find her at the dining table, finishing one of her handkerchiefs. Embroidery is her talent, and unlike some of the other Victors, she genuinely enjoys it.

I run up to her and give her a hug.

"What are you making?" I ask.

"Oh, you know. Just more handkerchiefs. I've told you that it helps relieve stress."

"That's nice, " I say, "Are you busy?"

She laughs. "I should be, but those Capitol stylists and throw a fit when they get here for all I care."

I smile.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"I'm okay," I say, "Do you think my name is in the Reaping? I mean, I'm not even a citizen of District Twelve."

She shrugs. "Maybe. I don't know. You shouldn't be in the Reaping Bowl, but since these are the Hunger Games, there's no way of knowing."

"Oh."

She puts the handkerchief down and begins to clean up her needles and other tools. It's a beautiful pattern; flowers and leaves are embroidered as a border, and there's a pink orchid in the middle.

"That's beautiful," I comment.

"You like it?"

"It's so good."

She holds it up to me. "Then take it," she says.

"Oh no, I cou–"

"Take it. I make enough. Take it for good luck or something."

I gingerly take it from her hand, running my finger over the pattern. She smiles.

There's loud knocking on the door.

"Here they come," she sighs, "I should go greet them. You should prepare for the reapings too."

"Okay," I say, "Thank you for the handkerchief."

"No problem."

She gives me a hug, and I leave through the back door. It's easier not to deal with the stylists. Sure, my dad is from the Capitol, but I'm not used to the weird fashions. He wasn't one of them anyway; he was one of the poor ones.

The gravel crunches beneath my feet as I walk home. Clouds have begun to appear in the edges of the bright blue sky. I'm pretty sure these mean rain. As I'm leaving Victor's Village, I pick a few poppies that grow wild around here. These will look nice on the dining table. When I get home, I quickly shower and change into a pick dress for the Reapings. The clouds have almost completely covered the sky by now, and there's a seriousness that is apparent in everything as we walk to the town square.

As the bells ring, announcing the beginning of the reaping, there's a huge flash of lightning and a loud clap of thunder.

Somehow, I feel that things aren't going to go well.

Amos Breckenridge, 13, District Twelve Male

The horizon has just begun to brighten, but I'm already up. I roll off my wooden bed onto the hard floor. Fine, I'm up. I rub my head and fold my blanket. I can hear my mom cooking in the other room; my dad is probably at the table. It's easy to know what's going on in our little two-roomed house. In the bed next to mine, Raven is still sleeping. He's snuggled in his blanket, his forehead covered in sweat. This is his first reaping. He doesn't deserve this; he's damaged enough. Careful to not wake him up, I push up his sleeve. There's a new scar. I run my finger around the scar. Twelve years old is too young to begin cutting yourself. Worst is how I can't protect him. I couldn't protect Maude in any way, and now I'm failing to keep him safe.

I wish I didn't have to wake him up, but money is money. I pull his sleeve back down and shake him.

"Hey, Raven, wake up."

He rolls over.

"C'mon, wake up. We've got some work to do before the reaping today."

He sits up and rubs his eyes. "Yeah?"

"We have to clean the Robinson's house."

He groans, gets out of bed, and goes to wash his face. He grabs a small chunk of stale bread. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go."

We grab a few cleaning supplies before leaving the house, and we walk toward the Town. They're the only ones that can afford this anyway. There's a very clear spot where the Seam ends and the Town begins, and it's almost like being in a different world. The houses are clearly sturdier, and the streets are relatively clean. I'm now surrounded by people with blonde hair and blue eyes, all wearing clothes better than mine. I used to be self-conscious, but now I just walk by in cold silence. Things between the two groups are almost never pretty, and since Maude died, I've learned to ignore the Townsfolk—Well, except for our customers. As much as I dislike the Town, I can't say I dislike their money. If I were a good person, I'd care about the people too, but I'm not a good person. Good people don't last long in the society of hate and distrust in District Twelve.

We approach the back door of the Robinson house. It's an unspoken policy of ours. When we clean houses in Town, we always enter through the back door. There's no use causing a scene.

I knock on the door. Mr. Robinson, a tall stern man, opens it.

"Hello, sir," I say. He steps to the side to let us in. "Is there anyone else in the house?"

"No. Be done before the reaping, okay?"

"Yes sir," we say. He might seem strict, but at least he's cordial. Most Townsfolk can't give us that much. He leaves, probably for some business, and we're left in charge of the house. Most first-time customers are suspicious, but we've been cleaning for him for so long that he trusts us. I don't plan on breaking that trust by stealing. I'd lose money in the long run by stealing.

Raven begins in the kitchen while I go upstairs to clean the rooms. First Mr. and Mrs. Robinson's, and then their daughters. As I'm cleaning, I see a new book on the bookshelf titled Beyond. We don't have the money for books, so I pick it up and begin to read. It's the story of a girl, trapped both by physical walls but also by expectations. This is actually pretty good…

"Amos!" Raven calls.

"Yeah?"

"I'm done down here. You?'

"Umm…" I look down at my book. "Just take everything you have down there home. I have some stuff to finish."

"Okay."

Back to the book.

Bells. Bells from the Town Square. My eyes snap up to the clock. If I'm not at the Reaping, I'm dead. Half an hour left. I'm such a horrible, irresponsible idiot! What kind of a fool was I, stopping to read the norming of the reaping? I slam the book shut and replace it on the table. I quickly finish up this last room and take the supplies and put them in a side alley. After making sure they're secure, I run for the reaping. I almost slam into the sign-in table, panting and gasping for air. I look at myself and see that my clothes are dirty and old, but I've got no other option.

When did the sky get so cloudy? I swear, it's going to rain.

I look around, and I see my dad, steaming with barely controlled anger and worry. He probably thinks I got killed by the "Capitol-b*tch Townies," as he calls him. Ever since they were the ones to kill Maude, he hasn't taken it well. Not to say that I have. It was easily preventable. She was too kind, too nice. If I had just offered to go fetch the supplies, she would be alive. I just had to let her go. After that, it was wrong place, wrong time.

I wave at my dad, trying to get his attention. He glances in my direction, and he sees me. His face immediately relaxes, and I make my way to my section.

The bells ring to begin the reaping.

There's a strike of lightning and a peal of thunder. Some of the younger girls behind me are beginning to cry. The weather isn't helping.

Everything's about to go downhill; I just know it.

Questions:

1. Jessamine. Thoughts? Predictions? Feelings about her personality?

2. Amos. Thoughts? Feelings about his opinion of himself? Predictions?

3. Which do you like more?

4. All the tributes have been introduced. Which one do you want to win? Who do you think will win?

5. If one of them could be your friend, which one would it be? Why?

A/N THE NON-REAPINGS ARE DONE! Let's have a moment of silence to commemorate this occasion.

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Okay. So, the tributes have been introduced. The next chapter will be a single reaping chapter done from an outside POV that will become more prominent in this trilogy. I can't wait! A poll will be going up after the next chapter.

Over and out,

~Joseph