A/N No, I have NOT left this story. I've just been really busy with moving around and stuff. Alaso, Aluma's original name was also Rye, so I changed it to avoid confusion.

Rye Miller (M), 13

I wake up and leap out of bed. I look at the clock, and I see that it's nine o'clock. Let's see, I have three hours before I have to start preparing for the reaping, so I have time to find Thorne before we have to leave. I hurry with my breakfast; I don't want to waste any time. Maize and Caritta, my younger twin sisters, are playing beside the table on the floor. Usually, I'd get down there with them, but today, Thorne is my priority. I dump the bowl in the sink and exit the door just as dad enters the room.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Thorne," I reply.

"It rained last night, so watch the mud. Be back by 11:30, okay?"

"Okay," I call as I shut the door. 11:30. That's a half hour less than I thought I had.

Oh well.

I go to the next house and knock on the door. A sleepy boy my age answers it.

"What is it, Rye?" Thorne says, "it's too early."

"No it's not," I say, "Come on."

"I haven't eaten breakfast yet," he says.

"Fine, but hurry, I have to get back by 11:30," I say. He goes back inside, and I follow. He heats up a bowl of grits before sitting down at the table, and I take the seat across from my best friend. I wait, absently drumming my fingers, but after a while, I can't take the boredom.

"Hurry up," I say.

"What's the rush," he asks, his mouth full.

"It's already 9:45, and I have to get back by 11:30."

"Sheesh, you're really impatient today." He laughs, and I laugh with him.

"Okay, okay, but please try to hurry, will you?," I say.

He just nods, and I lean back and wait.

Aluma Fields (F), 14

I sit down at the dining table at my place. In front of me is a bowl of oatmeal, and I grab the spoon and begin to eat. My dad sits across from me, sipping his coffee. He's usually grumpy, but he isn't today.

This morning, he's extra grumpy.

I guess it makes sense; two kids are receiving their death sentence today, but I don't see how being in a bad mood helps anything. I say that if you see something that needs changing, you go ahead and change it. Well, change it if you can. In the case of the games, there really isn't anything I can do, so I do my best to stay cheerful. Some think I'm weird for doing it, but here's my logic: If the Capitol wants us to be depressed and downtrodden, then I'll be happy and walk with a spring in my step. I know I isn't much, but every act against the Capitol will be a little more tinder for the fire.

"Good morning," I say.

My mom comes over and gives me a hug, but my dad just mumbles something and takes another sip. Coffee. Supposedly rare in Ten, Eleven, and Twelve, but we're just slightly richer than they are, so it's normal here.

I finish breakfast, wash my bowl, and leave the house. Here in District Nine, the communities are very close, so everyone pretty much knows everyone else.

"Good morning, Mr. Cannes," I say, waving to the old man sitting outside his house. No, he's not related to the victor Brandon Cannes; they just have the same last name.

"Good mornin'," he says, "You sure are happy today."

I just smile back at him. As I move on, I can just imagine him shaking his head and mumbling something about the younger generation.

I pass by several other houses, and I reach the large Magnolia tree at the edge of our community. It's large and old, and no one remembers where it came from, but it's an important part of the community. Usually, it's a spot for games, picnics, and meetings, but today, this is where I'm meeting Amelia and Bailey. I climb onto my usual branch and wait.

Rye Miller, 13

Turns out that a "quick breakfast" to Thorne takes half an hour. There goes another 30 minutes of my time.

"Why do you have to eat so slow," I ask,"I-"

"I know, I know, you have to be back by 11:30. Anyway, I'm done now. What'd you want to do?"

"It rained last night..."

"Then let's go!"

"My dad said to be careful with the mud."

"Whatever. Let's go."

I follow him out, and we talk while we walk.

"It must have rained really hard last night," he comments.

"You didn't hear it?" I ask, incredulous.

"Hey, you know that my mom makes me go to bed early," he says.

"Or maybe you WANT to go to bed early," I say, teasingly.

"No I don't."

"Really?"

"No."

"Then how do you explain your essay on 'Early to bed and early to rise'?"

"The teacher made me."

"She gave you other choices."

He sighs in defeat. "Just stop it, will you?" I smile again.

All of a sudden, he reaches his hand down and splashes me with the muddy water.

"Hey!" I exclaim, "What was that for?"

"Sweet, sweet, revenge," he says, with a wicked smile on his face.

"You're on," I reply.

Aluma Fields, 14

Bailey is the first to get here.

"Amelia's not here yet?" she asks.

"Duh," I say, "Is she ever on time?"

"Yeah," she says, laughing. Pretty soon, Amelia gets here, panting and out of breath.

"Sorry, stopped to help with her cat."

"It's okay, so, how are you guys holding up?"

"I'm fine," Bailey says, "If only we could get the whole District in on this, then we might have a rebellion on our hands. Okay, maybe not a rebellion, but at least we'd make Snow steaming mad."

"What if he bombs us?" Amelia asks. She's always been the cautious one.

"Nah," Bailey replies, "I doubt that the Capitolites can survive without their bread. And he can't just add our industry to Eleven because it's too hot down there for these grains."

"I guess," Amelia says, unconvinced.

"There has to be more to this, though," Bailey says.

"What do you mean?" I say.

"I mean, there has to be more we can do. I'm tired of just this."

"But there's nothing else we can do," Amelia says, "Right now, it's just us. Think about it. Three girls versus the Capitol."

"I have to side with Amelia on this one," I say, "What are you going to do, burn the fields and make us starve too?"

She throws up her hands in frustration. "I know, I know. But there has to be something we can do."

"Well," says Amelia, "We could get ready for the reaping and show the Capitol that it can't break us."

"Hey, you know, the reaping doesn't sound that bad when you put it that way," Bailey says.

"Then let's go."

Rye Miller, 13

After one mud fight, two lectures from my father, three attempts at finding something that fits, and four minutes of walking, I'm at the reaping. Before I go to my section, my father hugs me.

"See you later, son, alright?"

"Yeah dad."

Maize and Caritta also give me quick hugs, and it's at this time that I miss my mother most. But again, if I had her now, then I wouldn't have my two sisters. She gave her life for two. But which would I have chosen? Thinking about it only gives me a headache, so I push the though out of my head and walk to the fourteen-year-old section. I ignore the mayor's speech, and I just want to get this over with. Our escort, Valencia, begins with her annual "I'm so (not) happy to be here!" speech, and she picks out the girl's name.

"Aluma Fields."

The girl is an unfamiliar one. She probably lives in a far community. For some reason, she actually looks... cheerful. She only slightly quavers, and she walks with a happy gait. But she doesn't look insane. Weird.

Aluma Fields, 14

I'm doing all I can to keep smiling, and from the looks I get, I seem to be succeeding. They don't know how hard it is to do this when you know that you're probably going to die. But I do it anyway, just to spite Snow.

Valencia is giddy with excitement when I reach the stage.

"Aren't you proud to be in the Hunger Games?"

I don't say anything, just make a slight nod that could be interpreted as either a yes or a no. She seems to take it as a yes, and she jumps up and down..

"Now for the boys!"

She pulls out the boy's name.

"Rye Miller."

I find the skinny boy in the fourteen-year-olds, and he seems to be trying his best to keep a calm expression on. Good for him. At least Nine won't seem completely weak this year. But again, we're both on the young side, so...

No, Aluma, don't think this way. You can't let the Capitol see these feelings. I try not to think about any of this as I enter the Justice Building

Rye Miller, 13

I don't know how I kept myself looking calm, because in reality, I was and am still in a state of shock, as if this were a dream. I close my eyes and open them, and then pinch myself. No, I'm not dreaming. The shock slowly fades, no, intensifies into panic. I tell myself what I told myself when they called me.

If that girl can look happy, then I can at least keep calm.

They leave me in the room in the Justice Building, and my dad, trailed by the twins, is my first visitor. At the sight of them, all my restraints break and fall into his strong arms. Tears start to trickle out of my eyes, and I let out all the fear that I've kept in. After the good cry, I'm much calmer.

"I just want you to know," my dad says, "that I'm really proud of you. I'm really proud to have a son that can work hard and complete a long harvest, a son that can take good care of his sisters, but most of all, a son that has learned the importance of and how to value others. I'll really miss you, but I'll be with you again someday, whether or not it's here on earth."

"Okay, dad," I croak. He places a charm in my hand, and I see that it's shaped like a sickle.

Maize and Caritta grab me at the same time, and they tackle me to the ground, hugging me. They don't understand how serious the situation is.

After they leave, Thorne comes in. Even though he isn't a guy who likes touching, he hugs me really, really tightly.

"Come on," I say, trying to put on a hopeful face, "Like my dad said, we'll meet up someday."

He nods, and I think I catch him wiping away a tear. A peacekeeper calls time.

"Then I guess that this is goodbye, for now," he says.

"Yeah," I reply, "Goodbye, for now."

"Bye."

Aluma Fields, 14

My mom and dad come in, and my mom is crying. I brace myself. I can't cry now, because if I do, everyone will see the tear stains when I get on the train, and that will ruin the entire point of pretending to be happy. Still, when my father gives me the first hug in a long time, I feel a tear slip out of my eyes. I try to numb myself, to try to void from crying. My mom gives me a necklace, and another tear slips out.

Amelia and Bailey come in next. Amelia is valiantly holding herself together, but Bailey, as I expected, is mad. Instead of them comforting me, we spend the next five minutes calming Bailey down. Soon, she's back to her firey self.

"I just thought of something," Bailey says, "You know how we were talking about having no opportunities? Now we have one."

"What do you mean," I ask.

"Imagine how much influence a victor has," she says, and we sit in a stunned silence.

A victor.

A peacekeeper tells them it's time to go, and I'm left alone.

A victor.

Hey, I might even have enough power to help overthrow the Capitol.

With a new purpose, I get ready to go to the train.

A/N So, what did you think? If you felt that the Rye/Thorne exchange was pointless, I just want to let you know that that was supposed to show how Rye likes to tease and play around, even with absolutely pointless things. My favorite District coming up!

Since I've been asking you guys to tell me your favorites so far, I feel that it's only fair for me to tell you my favorites. So, here they are. Keep in mind that this list will change as I develop the characters more.

Favorite 3

Camino Wire. I just really like this guy, and I can totally related to how he feels about his sister.

Stream Arena. She's just so kind and sweet. I can't imagine writing her death. Then again, I can't imagine writing most of their deaths.

Coil Ampar. Even though I feel that his name isn't so great, I find his habits fun to write.

Least Favorite 3

Chrystal Jolie. Her form even called her a b*tch and wanted her to have a gruesome death. She's mean, cruel, and the kind of person you do NOT want to win.

Satine Steel. Nooffense to the submitter, but I really disliked writing this character. She was just weird, and her history didn't help much. Tip. If you want me to love your character, don't give them crazy histories or weird problems.

Magique Dorsell. Again, her history was just too crazy for me. I tend to like more normal, relatable tributes, and she didn't fit either of them.

If I didn't like your tribute, take no offense and don't lose heart, because they can still win. That's what's great about this system. I don't have to like them for them to win.