Isaac Carder (14) D8M

School was nothing for me. I was only ever going to have the education of a fifth-grader, and I was lucky just to have that. Still, it wouldn't be enough to get me anywhere in life. I was taking the fewest classes possible, baring scraping along the legal minimum, on a special track that let me work while also keeping my parents from being arrested for neglect. It was a decent thing I had going, but it was all I could do to pay attention to school. Waking up at five to get to school at seven, leaving school at noon to get to work at twelve-thirty, working until nine to eat a snack and fall asleep at ten... it was a hard schedule to keep up with, and if I had to let something slip, it was going to be my schoolwork. I couldn't afford to get fired. Nobody in my family could.

What is the square root of nine? my math book asked. All the problems were like that. They were easy enough that anyone in my class could do them, yet hard enough that it seemed like the Capitol was trying to teach us. 3 I wrote down without thinking, able to be bothered to do that much. Maybe I couldn't always focus when the teachers were teaching. Maybe I slept in class sometimes because I needed everything I could get. That didn't mean I was going to be totally lazy.

After school let out for the early kids, I went straight to the factory. We couldn't afford a bus, so I had to walk. That took a while, since it was more of an awkward limp. How little sunlight I got did that to people, leaving me with bowed legs, knowing how lucky I was to have a job at all. Sure, it was a boring job. Sure, I knew it would be nearly impossible for me to go up in the world from a factory job. I didn't mind that too much. I was alive, which I had to focus on. While I'd be stuck in lower-Eight forever, there was a chance I'd be upper-lower class someday, not poor as dirt. There was a chance things would get a little better, even if they'd never be perfect.

Work was boring like always. I cut large squares of fabric into smaller squares that other people would sew into shirts or dresses, sometimes getting fancy and being told to do a skirt. It wasn't particularly important work, or particularly hard, but it was particularly... lonely, being stuck in a little world, nothing to do but clock in and clock out. I did what I was told and tried to do it well in the vain hope that someday I would get a raise and my family would be able to afford something other than day-old bread. It never mattered, but I wasn't going to stop trying that little bit.

When I got home, I skipped my snack. I wanted to leave more for the family, and I needed sleep. I collapsed onto my bed after another seventeen-hour day of work with no breaks, I was exhausted. Still, I kept myself awake for a couple seconds. I thought of the top-floor apartment I hoped I could get someday, ever since I gave up on switching Districts. I thought of the few plants I would buy if I got the chance, ever since I gave up on being able to see trees. I thought of spending the days in the sunlight from my roof, ever since I gave up on pure sunlight from a fogless sky. I had to live for real a little bit. Otherwise my body would give up.

Lacey Evans (16) D8F

"Given the definition aforementioned of opinion, that being something which is subjective rather than objective, an opinion cannot be wrong. It can only be disagreed with. A fact, being defined as something objective, can have a negative or positive truth value, but a false fact is not an opinion. It's just a fact that isn't right. Using other definitions, perhaps, you'd have a real point, but not in this instance. Your rebuttal?" I asked the other team, waiting for a response I knew they'd have a hard time giving. I wasn't physically strong, and my mental capacity wasn't always the best, but when it came to debate, even I knew I was a powerhouse. Especially when someone was trying to prove that opinions could be wrong, and they were dumb enough to let me make the definitions.

"Well... Three is pretty, let's say. That's an opinion, right?" the other team asked. My partner nodded readily, knowing what they were going for and knowing I'd have a response for them. "Well, most of society would disagree with them. Wouldn't that make it an opinion that's wrong? If everyone disagrees with them?"

"So you're saying if you don't fit in with society you must be wrong?" I shot back, not needing time to think. I had heard that type of argument before. "And the President, who thinks the Games are good despite the Districts thinking otherwise, must then be wrong?" I was easily backing the other team into a corner. They could never call the President wrong. They had to take back what they said or risk being accused of treason, which wasn't worth it to win a dumb debate. It was as easy as that.

"Fine, fine. Opinions can't be wrong. We concede," the other team's leader said, pouting. I shrugged and high-fived my teammate. It seemed fake, just how easy that debate had been to win. We were in a tournament, a break from school, and we kept getting pitifully easy opponents. It was like we didn't even have to use our brains at all. It almost stank, just how little I had to try. Debates were the best when you were easily matched.

"Come on! We've so got this. Our school is getting that grant. Not one of those dumb private schools that obviously don't need it. I can't believe you're so good at this!" my partner said, hugging me. She was a nice girl who was still getting used to me. Admittedly, I was more quiet in the past, but that was before I realized that I was one of the quicker thinkers in my District. I wasn't the quickest, by any means, but I was quick enough to be able to deflect any bullies, or shoo away any mean teachers. That was plenty for me. It was also, apparently, plenty to get the school a grant... which would mean better lunches, which would just make my popularity rise again.

Ta-da! I got LCS to get me an 8F because people have apparently died. RIP my submitters, we'll miss you.

All joking aside, I need those tributes, both people who haven't submitted! I've given enough warning that it's about time for me to find new people, so chop chop! I'll take a skeleton form if need be. Thank.