Warning: 12F is a Nazi. Not in the traditional sense, because nothing about this tribute is traditional, but she's definitely… something. Just felt wrong typing the word 'Fuhrer' without putting a warning. The 12M POV also HEAVILY concerns self harm. I tried to keep it less descriptive, but he's still very, very depressed.

Samantha Von Hindenburg, District 12 Female (13?)

What… what is this?

It's strange, it's almost like… a body. But no, it's not mine. It's not mine. Something feels off. I should be at the Fuhrer's safe house, not in some, what is this, a bedroom?

I'm lying in a bed, a cold, hard one, almost made of rock. The room is bare, the window closed. Only a small mirror hangs in the corner over a desk.

I sit up and almost instantly realize I'm not wearing my normal lab coat and suit underneath. Instead I look down and find- a dress?

Now I'm sufficiently confused. I struggle to my feet, but my balance is all off. I seem to be several inches shorter, as well as a fair bit smaller in stature, but it isn't until I reach (on very unsteady feet) the mirror do I see the true change of my form.

The face that stares back at me is that of a 13 year old girl.

I slowly step back, confused at the strange features staring right at me. The blonde hair and blue eyes are actually quite preferrable to my old dark hair and pale skin, but the fact remains that I am clearly not who I once was. Whatever happened with that blasted machine obviously didn't work.

A knock at the door startles me out of my thoughts. The door opens and a woman with matching blonde hair walks in.

"Samantha?" she asks. "Are you almost ready? It's nearly time to go!"

I frown. "Ma'am, there's some mistake. My name is Edward Von Hindenburg, I'm a medical doctor in the Third Reich. Whatever happened, I am not who you think I am."

The woman frowns. "Sa-samantha. Edward Von Hindenburg was an ancient ancestor of ours nearly two thousand years ago. Are you feeling alright?"

Morty Sonym, District 12 Male (17)

Life was grey.

Not just the grey of District 12, but simply grey. You know how colors often fit a specific mood, red for anger, yellow for happy, blue for sad? I was stuck in grey.

I just simply didn't care anymore. I had nothing left to live for. My family was dead, my life was ruined, my home was destroyed, what more did I have?

District Twelve was dirty. Dirty and dark. For a place built on coal we sure had a hard time making fires. The darkness got everywhere, and we had no way to fight it. All I could do was simply curl up inside it and exist, just like I'd been doing all my life.

The Games were coming around again. I didn't have enough energy to care. Someone would get reaped, and they would die. Someone who trained for years would kill them, then they'd kill everyone else and win. It was the same every year.

It was a bit sad how some poor kid always got picked. In a fair world it would always be someone who deserved it or didn't have anything left to live for. If only those people would just volunteer so somebody with a life ahead of them had a chance to live it.

Wait a minute. That was me. I had nothing left. So why didn't I volunteer? It made sense. I die, someone else lives. I wanted to die anyway. This way I could do it by saving someone else, too. It was the perfect plan.

Well that was… something. District 1 is next!