Tabitha "Tabby" Ward, 16, District Six

It's an early morning at the factory. They have the Reapings to worry about later in the day, and so instead of giving them the day off, the bosses had them in even earlier than usual. The sun is only just now coming up, and it feels like it's been hours already. Not that sunlight helps much. There's only a few tiny windows in the factory, and smog stains them so that only a tiny crack of light seeps through the glass.

She works on a line with mostly other children, most of them even younger than she is. A few Peacekeepers are patrolling the factory, checking in every so often to make sure their work is done perfectly, and that nobody is taking any breaks when they aren't supposed to. She tenses up each time one of them comes to her line, ready to jump in the moment they say anything.

Tabby knows that she should just do what most people in District Six do: keep their heads down and stay to themselves. But she can't just do that. It hurts her heart to see other people in pain, especially the little ones who have been forced to work in the factory even earlier than she was. She wants to protect them and keep them safe and away from the awful world that District Six is.

"How much longer until the Reaping?" Faye asks. Smog and dust has coated her cousin's blonde hair a blackish gray, and her eyes have heavy bags under them. She just started working at the factory a few weeks ago, and the long shifts still weigh her down.

"Not much longer now," Tabby says. She isn't sure whether or not to hope that's true. Her fingers are already numb from the morning's stitching and she wants nothing more than to take a long, heavy nap. But once the shift is over, that means the Reapings. It means two kids are going to be chosen to go to the Capitol and die.

She wonders how she would react if one of the kids from the factory that she tries to protect, maybe even Faye, were reaped. It's a bad thought, with nothing good to come out of it, and so she pushes it away. There's enough bad things in District Six to think about, there's no need to dwell on the ones she can't control.

On queue, the bell blows, and the machinery grinds to a halt as a big red light flashes from the ceiling. Everybody lets out a collective sigh of relief, and within just a few moments Tabby has a crowd surrounding her.

"Is it time for the Reaping?"

"Where do we go?"

"How do we check-in?"

"Does it hurt when they poke you with the needle to check your blood?"

"What if I get chosen?"

All of the twelve year olds bombard her with their questions and worries in quick, timid voices. The younger ones are already off running home, and the ones who have experienced the Reaping already are making their way to the town square.

The questions are overwhelming, but she stays calm as she patiently answers each one, trying her best to soothe their worries.

"Yes, it's time. We can walk there together."

"We have to go to the town square. There'll be a line that we can check in at and then they'll tell us where to go."

"It doesn't hurt much, it's just a little sting."

"Twelve year olds almost never get chosen, because the older kids have so many more slips in there."

By the time they reach the town square, everybody seems at least a little bit more calm. They're still nervous and scared, but it's been tamed, controlled by their deep breaths and anxious foot-tapping.

Tabby drops them off at the line, and as she turns to walk away Faye tugs on her sleeve and asks her where she's going.

"I'm just running to say hi to my mom and dad before they start their shift. They have to run the Reaping shift, so I won't get to see them after. You be safe and watch after the others, okay?"

Faye nods her head, and Tabby runs off. Those few minutes in passing are the only time that she ever gets to be with her parents, and she doesn't want to waste any of those moments.

Tabby ends up being one of the last kids to check in. By the time she ran all the way home, her parents were already out the door. She was at least able to say hi, and they yawned out a few hellos back, but then that was it.

On the way back to the town square she passed by a few unpleasant sights. Peacekeepers were going door to door, and at one house they dragged an old man to the curb and beat him with batons while two young children cried at them to stop. She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying something. If it weren't Reaping day she might have. But all that stepping in today would have accomplished would be a bullet to the head.

Still, though, it made her feel sick to her stomach to watch, and she memorized the house address and promised to herself that she would check in on the family and help however she could. She didn't have money or food to spare, but sometimes just seeing somebody cared could be enough for people.

There were so many kids needing to be checked in that they started the Treaty of Treason speech early. They're already halfway through it by the time she checks in and starts walking to her section. She passes a few kids from the factory on her way to the sixteen section, and she smiles at them encouragingly.

The other kids in the sixteen-year-old section are less familiar to her. She hasn't been to school in years now, and while that's hardly an usual story in District Six, she does have some regrets about it. Being able to help her parents is what matters most, but she feels a twinge of sadness listening to the other kids talk about school as if it's the biggest worry in their life.

The mayor ends his speech, and he hands the microphone off to an escort that Tabby doesn't recognize. She looks normal by Capitolite standards. Last year their escort was decked out in what must have been pounds of jewelry and a few more pounds of makeup to make her head look like a diamond. This year, nothing singles the woman out as a Capitolite aside from the blue eyeshadow and seafoam green dye in her hair.

"Hello, District Six!" She says into the microphone, her voice full of anticipation. "My name is Hypatia Plinth, and I am thrilled to have the honor of escorting for this lovely district in my first ever year! I'm as excited to meet our two tributes as the rest of you surely are, so let's get this show on the road and go ahead and select the lovely lady who will represent District Six!"

All the whispering and side-conversations grind to a halt as Hypatia walks over to the bowl with the names in it. It's so silent that Tabby swears she can hear a mosquito flapping its wings on the other side of the stage. Hypatia digs deep into the bowl, mixing her hand around for effect before dramatically plucking out a slip.

"And this year's first tribute, District Six, is Tabitha Ward!"

She has trouble thinking for a moment. Her legs suddenly feel frozen in place, and her heart is beating faster. Nothing is making sense, and she wants to call out and check to make sure she didn't hear wrong. Because this couldn't be happening. This wasn't real.

But she only lets that shock and surprise freeze her for that single moment. There are people in the crowd watching her, kids already terrified who are probably just feeling even more scared now. She has to be brave for them. That is all she would focus on. She doesn't have to be brave for herself. It's just an act she had to put on for them. One step at a time.

Her face is blank as she walks up the stage. Time seems to warp and before she knows it she's standing next to the escort, who's beaming at her brightly. "And what a lovely first tribute we have! Tabitha, do you have any words for your district?"

She nods her head, and looks out blankly into the crowd. She tries to find somebody she recognizes, Mina or Calic or Faye or one of the others, but her head is spinning and she can barely see a thing. "I promise I'll do my best and try to make you all proud."

But how in the world am I supposed to do that?

Akali Cain, 18, District Two

It's been five years since she ran away from home. She wasn't totally sure why she ran away back then, and she still isn't sure now. There were plenty of things that would have been enough of a reason on their own, but figuring out which was the one that tipped her over the edge was something she didn't think she'd ever figure out.

Regardless of the reason, it apparently wasn't that strong of one, because she only lasted one week before she went back home. Her mom cooed and hugged her and said how much she missed her and made her promise to never do that again. Her dad's response was less sympathetic. Her memory's never been good, most of the past is just a haze to her, but she's pretty sure that's where the scar on her cheek came from.

She looks in the mirror, and those scars scattered across her body tell her life story, mapping out the events in her life she would've otherwise forgotten. Her first time using live weapons at the academy. The time two of the other trainees jumped her. A nasty cut on her head, hidden by her vibrant red hair, that she got when she tried winning the volunteer competition at just fifteen. It would have made her the youngest volunteer from District Two ever, but the gigantic girl threw her to the concrete ground like she was just a sack of flour.

Akali would be lying if she said it didn't fill her with at least a little satisfaction to watch that same girl get gutted by the trident of a fourteen-year-old Finnick Odair later that year.

Beyond her reflection in the mirror wall is the rest of the training center. Most days it would be full of action and life, clashing swords and pained grunts and taunting screams. Today is the morning of the Reaping, though, and so the academy is closed to everybody except the chosen volunteers. One of which just so happens to be her.

She doesn't feel any pride from that fact. Plenty of incompetent losers are chosen as volunteers, especially at eighteen. This is the bare minimum, winning the Hunger Games is all that really matters.

For proof of that she didn't have to look much further than outside the room. Kailen Crawley is a sadistic monster that nobody with any sense would want to get within a ten foot pole of. Yet District Two still decided that he would be the best boy to go into the Hunger Games with her.

She didn't care all that much—it just made it that much easier for him to kill if he wasn't likable— but still, she had to question their decision making a bit. Kai is in front of a range of targets, a bucket of knives beside him that he's throwing into the bullseyes with cool and calculated determination. He had the exact opposite fighting style as her, ice to her fire. When she fought it was with passion and rage and she threw everything she had into it. He seemed somehow almost detached.

She takes her eyes off Kai and focuses back on herself. She picks up her dagger and weighs it in her hand, balancing it on a finger as she approaches one of the practice dummies. When she was younger she would pretend that it was her dad's face on the dummies, and she would hack and slash and tear it to pieces. But training has become automatic enough for her now that she doesn't need that anymore.

Just like everything in her life is. Automatic. All of it. Even right now, just a few hours away from volunteering for the Hunger Games, it seems like she's just going through the motions, a puppet dancing on strings, and she isn't even sure if there's a puppet master.

The town square looks properly festive. The banners are flowing, trumpets are blaring from some corner out of view, and cameras are watching from all angles. This is primetime, the best of the best. District Two. Even among the Career districts there's a hierarchy, and District Two has a reputation to uphold. Where in the outer districts the Reaping is a sour and somber and deathly quiet event, here it's a celebration.

Akali remembers being a kid in the crowd on Reaping day. It really did feel like a parade, with all the streamers and confetti and loud cheering. The volunteers looked so massive and otherworldly back then. They were some strange mix between hero and demi-god, titans who were going off to fight for glory and honor.

But every year as she got a bit taller, the volunteers became smaller and smaller. Now that she was in their place, she realized just how far off she had been as a kid. The only thing that had stayed the same over the years was the question. Every year she would stare slack-jawed and wonder, sometimes aloud to her parents and sometimes to herself, what was it that made them volunteer?

She has the rehearsed answer to that question, obviously. When they ask her, she'll say in a calm and steady voice: I volunteer to win pride for my district, glory for my family, and honor for myself. It was the same answer every Career was told to give. A few went off script, especially the more loose-canon ones. But while Akali has enough disinterest in tradition and respect to go off script, she lacks an answer to substitute it with. So the cue-card answer would have to stay.

The festivities come to a sudden halt as the mayor takes the stage. His reading of the Treaty of Treason is dramatic and accompanied by sound effects from the band hidden behind stage. Horns blare as he speaks of the districts' treachery, and trumpets sound triumphantly when he puffs his chest and reminds the districts that District Two was the first to recognize the foolishness of the district's ways, and return to the side of Panem. A loud cheer sounds from the crowd with that.

His speech wraps up with a resounding applause, and he bows to the crowd and introduces our long-standing escort, Malthus Trist. The excitable man bounds onto stage with a flashy grin and to the sound of applause and cheering. He does a few dramatic bows before hopping over to the microphone and grabbing hold.

"Welcome one and all, to the Reaping for the 68th ever Annual Hunger Games!"

Another cheer rises from the crowd. A few of the kids near her cheer extra loud, and nudge her on the shoulder or give her a thumbs up. Most of them have either ignored her or hated her for the last 18 years of her life, but now that she's the golden girl of District Two it's all different. They may be able to stomach acting that way, but she doesn't have the energy to play pretend.

"As is tradition, we will start with selecting the lucky male tribute." He does just that, taking his time as he selects a slip of blue paper, the sound of bass and snare drums getting louder and faster with every moment. Eventually he reaches the podium again and unfolds the slip, the drums suddenly halting to a stop. "Gaius Grimes!"

As soon as the name passes Malthus' lips, the all clear is given, and Kai steps out from the crowd. "I volunteer!" He shouts happily, full of energy as he bounds up the steps and shakes Malthus' hand.

"What a dashing young man we have as this year's volunteer! White hair and purple eyes! Look out District One!"

"They'll be looking out for much more than my looks," Kai says slyly, still wearing a happy-go-lucky grin.

"Them and all the other districts too, hopefully! But now, let's see who will be joining you to represent the other half of this year's duo!"

The drums start up again, and Akali sucks in a deep breath. This is it. She takes a moment to steady herself, pushing aside everything except for her fear, and focusing on that. Her fear of this moment, her fear of failure, her fear of death, of all of it. She takes a moment and then steps further, beyond fear, and as the drum beats silence she steps out into the open.

"I volunteer!"

The cheering and applause washes over her, pushing her to the stage as she takes each step lightly, as if she were walking on clouds. The escort fawns as he takes her hand and helps her up stage.

"Another charmer! Just look at that red hair, how gorgeous! What a combo we have here!"

She forces a smile onto her lips, playing to the camera as she offers a subtle wink. "Kai can keep the charm for himself, I'm bringing the red to the Games."

Malthus fans himself off as the crowd roars its loudest cheer yet. "Wow! District Two did not come to play this year, folks! Well, what do you say, District Two, what do you think of your representatives this year?"

The applause is deafening, and Akali has to struggle to keep herself from plugging her ears and looking for the nearest exit. As she looks out at the near-endless crowd of cheering people, her mind starts to drift, detaching from the present. She imagines her younger self out there in the crowd, and wonders what she would have thought if she could see herself now. Would she see a hero and titan, ready to go off and fight great battles?

Or would she see the same familiar thing she saw each day in the mirror? A scared little girl, trying to pretend to be anything else.

Hi again! Wow, thank you so much to everybody! I got so many amazing characters already, and the fact that so many people are trusting me to write their characters they've worked so hard on means so much to me! I am so so excited to continue to write this story. I hope that some of you are enjoying reading it even half as much as I am writing it! Super big thank you to FireflyCarnival, LostTome, and David12341(again!) for Tabby, Kai, and Akali, they're all so incredible! Thank you all so much for reading!

-Avery