There is no such thing as luck.

August Attonal

District Three Female

As a twin, twins can be kind of annoying. I love her really, but my sister doesn't really talk much, and being chatty that annoys me. You wouldn't think I'd mind, but I don't want to talk emall/em the time. She's smart though, and she gets way better scores than me on all of our tests at school. December Attonal, top of the class.

She really doesn't like people, she just hangs out with Volte and sits in the corner. I think she might be surprised how popular she is.

Maybe it has something to do with Uncle Cypher's death in the 79th games, when he was eighteen. My age. Very easy for him to die. If I get reaped, I could die just as easily. I didn't really like Uncle Cypher, but there you go. Still dead.

"December, wake up. Reaping time in two hours." She turns over and opens her eyes. She sees the time on the clock, and immediately she sits up straight. We really don't have to leave until ten minutes until the reaping, since we live so close to the square. Still, December needs to be up for at least an hour and a half before we leave, has to make sure none of her hair is out of place, that she has no dust in her eyes.

She hurries out of the room, and I find it funny how on point she is about everything.

I put on a green dress and tie my hair in a ponytail. Blonde hair and dark brown eyes, I would say I look decently pretty, as does December when she puts some care into her appearance.

I go downstairs, and see Mother in the kitchen. I don't expect her to acknowledge me, and she doesn't. She doesn't notice either of us much. I make myself some toast, go to the table and sit down to eat my breakfast.

December comes down soon afterwards, and she joins me at the table. Mother wanders off upstairs. She probably won't show up for the reaping, and she'll get in trouble with the peacekeepers, but I can't say I care.

I hear some noise coming from upstairs, and realise Mother has started her yearly thing of watching other reapings before ours. I don't really care, until I hear something.

An escort saying. "Volunteering isn't happening this year."

That catches me off guard. No volunteering? Maybe it's something to do with President Snow's death. That's probably it. I wonder who placed the bomb.

Doesn't really matter. It won't affect me anyway. I'm not planning to volunteer. The clock strikes nine o'clock, and though there's a reaping in an hour I really want to leave now.

"August, you look like you can't sit still." December says.

"I can't sit still." I tell her. She gives me a disbelieving smile, maybe holding back a laugh.

So I spend the next ten minutes pacing up and down the room, while December watches. I don't know how she puts up with me sometimes.

"You really can't stay still then." She isn't asking a question. It's a statement. She's honestly impressive in a lot of things. "Look, it's thirty-seven minutes until we have to leave for the reaping. Could you try not to get my nerves before we go?"

I give her an apologetic look. Then I take my seat at the table again. The seat feels too stiff, so I get up again.

I go back to pacing, but this time I find a different room to pace in. Namely, our bedroom. The sky is cloud-free here in three, but it's not particularly warm. Sunny but not warm. Perfect for reaping day.

The wooden floor is cold beneath my feet, and hard, but it's no problem. It's kind of calming.

The next thing I know is December calling me that it's time to leave. I hurry downstairs, and we head out onto the crowded street, getting swept along in the crowd on our way to the square. I don't care if Mother misses the reaping, she get in trouble with the peacekeepers but that's not my problem.

The streets are busy. We make our way to the eighteen-year-old area, where we find ourselves surrounded by our class at school. There aren't that many of us. District Three isn't a very big place.

Mayor Blinx stands, and starts to talk. Not interesting. I want to move around, but I can't. My eyes flick back and forth between the escort and our one living victor, a nineteen-year-old called Keek Voltan who won the 82nd Hunger Games.

He finishes his speech, and nods to Styliani Zappide, our escort.

She smiles at us, waving her clawed hands around as she walks forward. "Ladies and gentlemen of District Three, it's a pleasure to be here, so, we are now going to draw the names. "Ladies first!" Her smile is too wide, too enthusiastic. She reaches a hand into the reaping bowl, pulling a single slip of paper from it. She raises in the air, unfolds it and reads the name. "August," I don't know any other Augusts in District Three. Is it me? "Attonal!" So it is me. I am District Three's female tribute. I walk forwards, tempted to cry, but I don't. December would be more likely to win than me. So what would December do? She would own it. Own the whole games. So that's what I'll do.

The idea fills me with confidence, and when I get to the stage I see my sister's face. It's… almost expressionless. She's planning something. But what? What could she do to change things? I ignore it, I turn back to Styliani and the claws she had implanted in her fingers, her green hair. She smiles at me, gives me a quick nod, and turns back to the crowd.

"Now for the gentlemen." She reaches for another slip.

I gasp. All my thoughts leave my head, and I have to stop myself from falling. I know what December is going to do, and it's unheard of.

Some people are your friends.

Charles "Chip" Vizio

District Three Male

Another nightmare is a great way to wake up. I wasn't alive for my mother's games, but I've seen the reruns. Brutal and bloody, showing her death in full detail. I could never watch after the first time. I really wish she could have lived, could have won. She was top three, all set to win, but then that District Two boy showed up. And then there were two.

Now I live with Grandmother and Grandfather. They looked after me like I was their own child, and I'm thankful, because my father ditched my mother when he found out she was going to have his child. Seventeen-year-olds don't make the best parents.

"Chip. Come and have breakfast." Grandmother calls from downstairs. I hurry down to the kitchen. Not much, just some soup, but that's fine. It's delicious anyway. Grandmother is an amazing cook.

"How are you feeling? About the reaping." She asks.

"I don't really know. I didn't take tesserae, so I'm hopeful, I guess." I tell her. A smile. "I'd better get ready for the reapings." By get ready, I mean attempt to brush my messy red hair and put on some gloves to hide the burns on my hands. Grandfather says I wouldn't get the scars if I didn't do those experiments, but it's not my fault I spilt chemicals on my hand. If I had to kill someone I'd wear gloves. Best way to stay anonymous. Not that I'd kill someone, that's a horrible thought, but if I had to, that's what I'd do.

"Chip, come on. We've haven't got forever." Grandfather calls. I hurry into the main room, where he and Grandmother are waiting for me so we can make our way to the square. We head out of the door onto the crowded streets, dotted with people, although there aren't that many. We aren't very close to the square.

Not many people are out this early, and we make it to the square without much difficulty, and then we split. Them at the sidelines, me in the fifteen-year-olds area.

People file into the square, and I get jostled around by the crowd. No one near me is a friend, as I don't have, well, any friends. Might be my appearance, or my habit of screwing up conversations. One of those two. Or the fact I always wear gloves. People find that a bit weird.

Mayor Blinx talks for a while, and then nods at the escort. The mentor seems pretty attentive, searching the crowd for someone promising.

"Ladies and gentlemen of District Three, it's a pleasure to be here, so, we are now going to draw the names. Ladies first!" She says, waving at all of us. Then she gives us a wide smile and reaches for a slip from the reaping bowl. "August...Attonal!" I watch as she scans the crowd, searching for the lucky tribute, August Attonal.

Two girls, who I think might be twins. Both are surprisingly calm, but the one walking to the stage seems to be barely keeping her nerves in, and the one in the crowd seems as calm as can be.

August gets to the stage and gets a nod from Styliani, and then fixates on her sisters face.

"Now for the gentlemen."

Styliani unfolds the paper, and I watch closely. August seems pretty faint. She definitely has a problem. "Charles Vizio!" She yells. I'm shocked into stillness. Me? That's… that's… that's a statistical improbability. My name went in four times, no tesserae taken, I'm not eighteen, I'm one of thousands of names. I should not have been reaped. Styliani is getting a little impatient. "Would Charles Vizio please make their way to the stage?"

I take one step forwards. Two step forward. A couple of steps at a time, I make my way to the stage. Up the steps, onto the stage. I turn to the audience in the square, and spot my grandparents, both crying as they watch me on the stage.

"Shake hands." Styliani whispers to us, and I reach out my hand and August takes it.

As Styliani turns back to the crowd, August shakes my hand. "What's with the gloves?" She asks quietly.

"Chemical burns. Couldn't live without 'em, you know?" I joke back. She gives me a look which says "Why are you so happy right now?". I've done it again. I've lost a friend I never had.

"Well, thank you for being here, and I would like to present the tributes of District Three!"

So...I tore my format to pieces (It gets explained, promise). It'll come back next chapter, I'm absolutely certain of it. Anyway….six reapings down, six to go. And yes, this chapter is slightly shorter than usual, but oh well. See you next time for District Two.