Cathrine Cernum, 12, D6F, Before the Reapings

Pink. That is the first thing I see when I wake up. Pink. My whole room is pink. My bed, my rug, my walls. Pink is the only thing that calms me down. Without pink, I...I don't know who I am. I roll over in my bed and look at my calendar. July 4th. Reaping Day. I freeze up and start shaking. Pink. Think about pink. Your name is only in there one time. I really am lucky that my parents can afford for me not to have to take out tessere and understand how I cannot live without the color pink.

Before I let myself do anything else to start my day, I turn over on my side to my nightstand. On the nightstand is a pair of pink sunglasses with pink lenses. In haste, I grab the glasses and put them up on my nose. A sudden wave of relaxation hits me as the colors of everything, even myself, fade to pink. I let out a calming sigh and made my way out of my room. I see my cat, Bubbles at the foot of my door. If pink didn't exist, I don't know what I would do, but if in some way I could survive without pink, Bubbles would be the most calming thing in my life.

I pick up Bubbles with ease, as she is really small compared to most cats, and walk upstairs to the main level. My mom is waiting for me in the kitchen, preparing lunch. I sleep pretty late. "I'm making chicken soup, darling." She says to me with an artificially pink smile. I return the smile and make my way to the soft couch that is actually pink. I snuggle up next to the couch, feeling a sense of security.

In no time, my mom finishes the soup and serves me straight to the couch! She must know how stressed I am with the Reapings and everything. A great mom, she is. The bowl of soup is scalding hot and I have to set it down on the couch before I can eat it. I blow on it softly, and it eventually cools down enough for me to eat. I spoon the delicious soup into my mouth. It tastes extraordinarily pink today! I think happily. Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

Trying to keep my manners up, I eat slowly, enjoying every sip/bite. My mom seems to stare at me while I eat. I love her, but sometimes it feels like she's patronizing me, and I don't understand why.

"Darling, you have to get ready for the Reaping. I laid out a dress for you on your chair, and I think you'll really like it." My mom says in a soft tone once I finish slurping up my food. I nod my head eagerly and make my way down the stairs to my room. Sure enough I find a fluffy pink dress on the chair. I take off my glasses for a second and with a squeal I realize that the actual dress is pink too. Perfect!

I take off my soft pants and shirt and put on the dress. Unfortunately, the dress is a bit scratchy at the waist, but other than that, it's perfect. A cotton bodice and a tulle skirt, lined with bows along the bottom, and a big flower bow decoration along the waist. My mom made it herself, and it is my most favorite dress of all time. I head into my bathroom and comb my light brown, mousy hair. I decide to leave my bangs alone, even though they cover my eyes. I'll ask mom to get those trimmed later. My mom has the most spectacularly pink scissors.

I step back and look at my full self in the mirror. I do a little twirl in it because it makes the dress poof out more, and look more sophisticated. I look down at my pink-tinted feet. Shoes, very needed.

My closet has an abundance of clothes and an abundance of shoes for that matter. I take off my glasses for a moment, hissing quietly at the non-pink colors. Most of the shoes are already pink, but some are various shades of gray, yellow, blue, and purple. Wanting everything to match, I choose a pair of pink heels embedded with little artificial diamonds on it. Cute. I think to myself as I put them on my bare feet.

My hand nonchalantly goes to where my glasses were set down, but the only thing I grasp is air. I let out a small gasp and shudder. Calm down. It probably just fell. One time I lost my glasses momentarily and I tried to stab my eyes out with a pencil. With a deep breath, I turn around in hopes that my glasses are right there on the ground.

They aren't. Without any warning tears flood up in my eyes and I let out a blood-curdling scream. Going without pink for a little bit is bearable, but losing the glasses is not. My hands reach for my eyes to cover them from the pink-derived world, as my mom suddenly rushes in. My screams and cries only get louder.

I begin stamping my foot too without realizing it. You look like a child. Stop it. My own voice echoes through my head, but it seems impossible to stop once it starts. Before I know it, I'm curled up in a ball on the ground, tightly holding my face, balling. My mom is cradling me on the ground, like I'm a baby. You are NOT a baby, stop acting like one. My voice rang through my head again, this time unexpectedly and it makes me jump.

Cold, ice-like air hits me as I realize my mom has left my side. I blindly claw at the air in front of me desperately trying to find my mom. The voice, my own, in my head seems to be screaming at me right now, telling me to get up and stop acting like this, and I keep repeating that I can't. Over and over and over.

That is until I can. I feel a hand on my shoulder that I know is my mom. I stop sobbing for a moment. "Hey, hey. Shh. It's alright Cathrine. I got your glasses. They were hiding under your bed." Those words and those words alone stop my meltdown. I open my eyes again and swipe the glasses from my mom's hands at once. Once they are up on my face again I feel relieved. I dry my tears and smile in the mirror again.

My mom kisses the top of my head and leads me upstairs again. I have no other siblings, and since my dad works for the district, he is already at the ceremony. I clench my jaw, trying to seem brave and tough. Your name is only in there one time. I repeat to myself, hoping that if I say it enough, I might start to believe it.

We step outside and the wind smacks my face, but somehow it doesn't affect my hair. I notice other families are making their way to the Reapings, and as I look at a boy about my age hugging his father, I realize I'm probably not the only one who had a pre-reaping breakdown.

The two of us walk down the street (on the sidewalk of course), for a while, and my feet are really aching by the time we arrive at the Town Square, crowded by mostly solemn faces of teenagers and what I would assume is their parents.

This is where I have to part with my mom for the moment. I turn over to her and hug her tightly, getting on my toes to do so. Even though the reassuring comment has been planted into my brain, of course I'll still be scared if there is any chance I get picked for a death battle. My mom pulls away from me and says something to me that I can't quite hear. I just nod and she turns the other way to leave. I feel anxiety brew up inside of me at this, but I manage to keep my composure and follow the line that seems to be forming at a table, occupying a Peacekeeper.

I stare out at the pink crowd until it is my turn. "Hello," I say kindly to him, remembering what my dad told me about making Peacekeepers angry.

"Your hand." He says through the mask. My what? Seemingly answering my question he goes on, "Give me your left hand." I nod suspiciously, reach out my left hand, and the Peacekeeper takes it in his.

"That's weird," I mumble to him as he seems to be examining my hand. My composure is set and steady, until he pulls out a type of automatic needle. "WHAT IS THAT?" I yelp in fear. I can't see how he responds to that but my guess is he rolls his eyes along with the sigh he gives. Without asking for permission, he injects the needle into my index finger. I cry out in pain. It feels like a snake bite to the finger.

If this is what being stabbed by a measly needle feels like, I can't imagine what the Hunger Games would feel like.

Andy Metafee, 20, Mentor, Reaping Ceremony,

The crowd of weak young teenagers looks just as incapable as last year, and the year before that, and the year before that. Don't get me wrong, I don't think they really have any reason to be muscular or powerful or anything like that, but they could at the very least try to make this job easier for me. I mean just try to seem menacing, it can't kill you, can it?

Apparently it can. Even as I scan the crowd, I see hundreds, probably more, sad, crying, depressed, weak kids. Kids who will never be victors. Kids who will die in the bloodbath. Kids who won't even try. Kids who at least aren't total idiots, like our stupid escort, Sabrina Lush, who is walking over to the center of the stage to start the Reapings. "Hello District 6!" she trills into the microphone. "Before we select the two lucky tributes, we have an amazing video right from the Capital!"

After the mind-numbing video, Sabrina walks over to the girls bowl. She dips her hand into it, all the way to the very bottom, swirls it around, and grasps her fingers on one slip. I notice all the girls clench up and divert their whole and undivided attention to Sabrina. She unfolds the paper and announces, "Cathrine Cernum!" A rift appears in the 12-year-old section, as the girls move away from the unlucky kid. The girl is standing there, frozen, and I notice that she is wearing pink sunglasses for some reason. The girl, Cathrine, her name is, hasn't moved, and I hear the clomp of Peacekeepers moving to take her up the stage. They grab her roughly, much to her displeasure, and half carry/half drag her up to the stage. As soon as she reaches the top she crumples into a ball and starts weeping. I almost roll my eyes, but barely restrain myself. Even Sabrina looks around nervously. "Well...let's pick the boy tribute next." She dips her hand in the glass bow with less flair than before and picks out a name.

"Fred Toni!" She announces mustering up more of that capitolite energy. The first thing I notice is a boy in the 17-year-old section holding his fist up to his mouth, seemingly trying to contain laughter. After a few brief moments, the boy bursts out laughing, much to my confusion. Much to my shock, he runs down the aisle to the stage. A look in his eyes tells me he's gone insane. When he reaches the stage in no amount of time he goes up to the microphone and stares out at the crowd in a dazed way that would have made me laugh my guts out a couple years ago. In a moment of awkward silence, he goes to his side of the stage.

Well isn't that great, I begin thinking to myself. One of my tributes looks like he belongs in a psych ward, and the other looks like Wiress on drugs. I spare a glance at the still sobbing girl with ridiculous looking glasses on her face. Sabrina approaches her looking slightly nervous for whatever reason. I notice she motions to her eyes and reaches for the girl's glasses. Making me jump, the girl, Cathrine, screeches and scratches at Sabrina's hands, making her yell extremely loudly. Woah. I make mental note. Make that two tributes that belong in a psych ward.

Fred Toni, 17, D6M, After the Reapings

I don't care. Out of all the thought rushing around my head, that one is clear. I don't care. It's just a game, right? All they want is a show. And I'm gonna to give it to them. So what if I die? I welcome death. Yes, it is unpleasant, but I don't care anymore. All I want is to give them their show and go out the way I want to. Not how they plan for me to, but how I want it. My train of thought is interrupted by my teary-eyed parents walking in. "Fred! Why you! Why!" my mom wails.

"I know you can make it out of this, son. You have the skill to confront anything that comes your way." my dad says solemnly. I almost roll my eyes at them. Can't they see that i don't care?!

"I DON'T CARE!" I scream, "Yes, I love you and don't want this, but I don't really care. I'll play their game and have a good time while I'm at it. I know it will probably end in death, but again, I don't care." My parents look at me, stunned.

"Well, if that's the way you want it, so be it. Goodbye, son. We love you so much, remember that." My dad whispers.

"Goodbye," I croak. My mom turns and hugs me one last time, then they leave. I settle back into my chair with a smirk. Sad, mopey Fred is gone. Mischievous, funny Fred is back.

Hi again! I can't believe we are halfway through the reapings. We had a really fun time with Cathrine and Fred, we hope you enjoy them. Also, we changed the format a little to make it more organized. Review with constructive criticism please. We really appreciated it. See you in District 7!

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