Sofie Wilhem, 17, D2F, Morning of the Reapings

I wake to the sound of my father clanking two large metal bars together by my ear. I muffle a scream into my pillow, not wanting to be woken up with less than 10 hours of sleep.

"It's Reaping Day. Mom's got a dress laid out for you and Angel." My father said, knowing I'm awake.

Ugh. Reaping Day. I think to myself. I've never been worried about the Hunger Games because I know someone will always volunteer, but doing really anything in the morning has never been my forte. I drag myself out of bed and force myself to go downstairs to get something to eat. When I get into our kitchen, Angel is already at the table, wolfing down some cereal. Huh. I think. That's a little unusual. Usually, my sister takes her time eating, something about not wanting to choke. Suddenly it hits me. "Angel, are you worried about the Reapings?" I ask gently. She looked down, and her hands started fidgeting. Then she looked up and locked her brilliant green eyes on me.

"What if I get picked, Sofie?" she asks.

"You won't get picked. And..in the case that you do, someone will volunteer for you. That's how it works in District Two." I say to her, raising my eyebrows.

"You never know what might happen. Maybe that person will just choose not to volunteer and I'd have to go up." She says, more anxious than before. I sigh and decide to get myself a bowl of cereal as well. I grab the box next to Angel and pour the pitcher of milk into it after putting it in a bowl.

"How about...after the reapings, we can go to the candy store and get a bunch of candy and we can have a slumber party in my room," I suggest. Her eyes light up.

"Okay, Sofie! I need to go get ready," she shouts.

"So do I," I respond to myself more than to my sister. I start walking back up the stairs and take a left into my room. Angel insisted that she decorate her room, so her room is pretty fancy, but all I really need is a bed to sleep on. Of course, since I live in a rich district I have more than that, but still.

I find a slim-fitted silky golden dress that goes down to my ankles on my carpet next to my bed. It looks pretty comfortable compared to lots of dresses Angel owns, so I decide it's perfect. Appearance has never really mattered to me, but I know today is a special day, and I might be on camera, so this is probably the most worthy day of looking good. After a few minutes of struggling, I get the dress on. I then head into my bathroom which is connected to my bedroom.

The first thing I decide to do is brush my teeth. After that is done I brush my hair. My wavy, dark brunette hair has always been the one good thing about me. It hardly ever gets tangled or greasy or unmanageable, so just leaving it as it is for the Reaping has always been what I do, ever since I was a cowering twelve-year-old.

I take one glance at myself in the mirror and exit my room. With a jump, I see that Angel is standing right in front of my door. Before I have time to reprimand her, she compliments me. "I like your dress." She says bubbly.

Knowing she wants me to compliment her pale blue, lacy dress, I do so. "Girls! We are gonna be late!" My dad calls from downstairs. I sigh heavily and walk downstairs, with no question in the world that anything bad could ever happen. "Sofie! Angel! You all look magnificent!" my dad exclaims as we both walk downstairs. I blush and start pretending that I am a fancy Capital lady.

"Oh, it's nothing!" I trill in the stupid Capital accent, "just the latest fashions!" I can't hold it in any longer. I burst into giggles. Angel joins me, her laugh as soft and tinkling as bells. Suddenly we are all falling over, laughing, over my ridiculous accent and we are also trying to relieve the tension of the reapings today.

My mom comes down with my youngest brother, looks down at us, and says "What's so funny!"

"Nothing, mom, it's okay," I respond, getting up and brushing my dress off.

"Well, I hope you've had your fun because it's time to go to the reapings," she says solemnly. I check the time.

"Mom!" I shriek, "We only have ten minutes to get to the ceremony!" I fling open the door and rush out to the street. My family follows behind me.

"I know, but it took about 20 minutes to get Leonard ready," she explains

"Oh ok, but we still have to go," I shout behind me. I run ahead of my family, slowing down into a walk as we approach the square. My sister is the first one to catch up to me. Hand in hand we walk to the table where we are checked in by taking our blood. We are quickly separated among the rushing tide of kids. The peacekeeper grabs my hand, with surprising gentleness, and puts the needle onto my pointer finger. I hiss as the needle goes into my finger, pulling my hand away. I wouldn't say I am afraid of blood, it's just that I don't like the sight of it. I suck on my finger, and I notice this cocky 18-year-old laughing at me. I roll my eyes and keep walking. When I reach my section, I look over at the 12-year-old section and see Angel waving at me. I wave back at her, then gesture at the stage and mouth Pay attention!

I turn my attention to the stage and look at Brutus, one of the District Two mentors this year. He looks lost in his memory, so I start looking at random things until the mayor walks up to the stage. I clench my fingers and start hoping for the best this year.

Brutus, 64, Mentor, Reaping Ceremony

The sun is nowhere to be seen on this humid, late summer day. That's a great sign. I think to myself. Nothing about District Two, the district I take pride in, has seemed as good as it should ever since last year. Both of my tributes dying in the bloodbath was probably the most embarrassing thing, especially since Haymitch was practically shoving it down my throat the whole time.

It's a new year. There are new tributes. It won't happen again. It was these same thoughts keeping me going up to this day. The crowd of 18-year-olds looks promising, but so did they last year, and that didn't end great. Before any other terrible images come into my head, the Mayor and the Escort approach the stage. I always thought the Mayor of District 2 was a funny guy, but he was getting pretty old so his speeches became pretty shallow, and interrupted with deep coughing fits.

In the blink of an eye, the Escort, Waldo Truffolo found his way to the boy's glass bowl. Refocusing myself, I rub my hands together and lean forward in my chair. Waldo pulls out a slip and clears his throat as he announces, "Marco Ellaine!" A scrawny boy in the 17-year-olds section looks around at his friends and takes a few steps into the aisle.

Before he can take any more steps, a tall boy in the 18-year-old section comes forward. "I volunteer!" He shouts with a big grin on his face. More than anything he looks excited like this is the most fun thing in his life. As he walks down the aisle I can tell he will have charisma, and the fact that he has trained in the Academy for 6 years and was chosen above probably about a hundred people also helps.

I can definitely work with him. I think to myself confidently. I make sure to keep my confidence to a low just in case I get disappointed like last year, but this guy looks better than the one from last year anyway.

As he walks up to the stage the escort asks for his name. "Jarrod Cliftin." He says proudly.
"A big hand for Jarrod." The escort realizes he shouldn't have said that when only a small group of boys unmannerly clap and cheer.

"Erm- now the ladies." He walks over to the girls' bowl and finds a slip of paper. "Angel Wilhem!" Waldo exclaims. A loud shriek comes from the 12-year-old section as a small girl nearly topples over as she walks into the aisle. The tears were already forming in her eyes as she walked up. She took a few steps and no one had volunteered. Maybe she's waiting so she can add suspense. I think to myself. That's an act I've seen quite a few times in my career.

A frantic girl in the 16-year-old section catches my eye. She looks around at the older girls, probably fearfully wondering why no one is volunteering. She seems to be gasping for air by the time Angel is almost at the stage. Seeing that no one had volunteered yet, the frantic girl raises her shaky hand high. "I VOLUNTEER." She yells. Whoa. A non-career volunteer?! I look over at Enobaria who is sitting in her chair looking at the volunteer with narrowed eyes. When she reaches the stage, she hugs the Angel kid, who is crying now and clinging on to her, then pushes her away. "Sofie Wilhem," she says into the microphone, "the Victor of the 94th Hunger Games." Hmm. I turn to Enobaria again and she mouths, we need to talk. I nod and turn back to watch as the tributes are moved into the Justice Building to say their goodbyes.

Jarrod Cliftin, 18, D2M, After the Reapings

I sit down in the plush velvet chair after volunteering for the Hunger Games. I have been waiting for this moment my whole life, and it is finally here. I am already imagining the Capital cheering my name. Jarrod! Jarrod! I am still thinking about this when my parents walk in with my older brother and sister, who is holding the hands of my younger sister, Avery. "Jarrod!" Avery shouts, "you volunteered! Yay! Now you are going to fight and come back a Victor, and then we can eat cinnamon rolls all day! Yay!" I smile to myself. Avery is only five, so she doesn't really understand what the Games are yet. But when she does and I come back victorious, she will praise me all day.

"Yeah! We will have so much fun!" I reply back to her. She smiles and moves aside so I can talk to my parents. They move closer but don't touch me or hug me in any way. I hate people touching me, which, of course, is why I am going to win. No one will be able to get close to me. I know that that will be a problem with my stylist pre-games, but I can bear it. I focus my attention back to my parents.

My mom starts. "Jarrod, you have made us so proud and I can't wait to see you as the star of all of Panem!" She is a very ditzy woman who is in love with the Capital and her dream is to move there someday.

I now shift my attention to my dad. He breaks into a huge smile and fake lectures me saying, "Now, if you aren't back here in two weeks, I will ground you for a month." We both start laughing, and I am still laughing as they leave. Next is my group of friends. Hank, Oliver, Alex, and Will. Oliver and Will do a fake bow, pretending that I am already the Victor. Hank and Alex congratulate me and then we all start making plans for what to do when I get back. When it is time for them to leave, they all give me an air-high five and leave, talking loudly. I chuckle to myself and lean back in my chair, already surrounded in glory and riches.

Hi guys! Thank you for your support of our story, we really appreciate it! I keep forgetting to mention this, but if you notice a change in writing styles, it is because there are three of us and we all have different writing styles. How did you like Sofie and Jarrod? There will most likely be no more updates this week, we have a very academically busy week. Please review, follow, and fav!

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