Kendra Brooks- 16

District 3F

The Morning of the Reapings

My hand slides under the mattress of Katy Walshes' bed, as I listen to another of her tragic breakup stories with false interest. After doing this for a while, I've got a pretty good idea where she stores her spare cash. She might be the richest girl in the district, but she sure talks A LOT. "And that's not all!" She wails. "I found him making out with Stacie behind the schoolbuilding last week! Stacie! Can you believe it Kendra?" I feign shock, opening my mouth in a perfect "O."

"You're too good for him anyways, Kat. You know that." She gives me a watery smile at the comment. "Oh I know, but Kenny I loved him! What does she have that I don't. Last week Tommy Carter told me-" I tune her out, making sure to nod at regular intervals. As she paces her palace-sized room, my hand reaches further into her bedframe. Bingo! I slowly withdraw my hand with a whopping 50 dollars in my palm.

This could buy me a small house! It had taken me weeks, no months, to gain her trust. Most girls see me as a poor, factory girl who doesn't have an ounce of class. But a few well-tailored lies and a little makeup can go a long way. Especially when very few people could afford makeup or decent clothing.

Was my way of living honest? By no means! But what alternative option did I have? My parents were dirt poor and this way, they didn't have to toil as many long hours in the factory. Sure I kept most of the money to myself, but I provided my family with enough to make it by on half the hours that the rest of the district labored weekly.

In my books, that counts as good enough. They didn't care what I did, or how I did it, if it kept the food on the table and my father in his arm chair. First I targeted Sammy Johnson, the class pretty boy. I only took a few dollars, only enough to buy a week's worth of soup and purchase my first makeup pallette. By the time I "broke up" with him I'd long spent the cash.

Then it was Suzie Argon, who'd taken a particularly long time to convince that I was- or was supposed to be- trust worthy. I'd had to endure A LOT of teasing and wild parties to become in with her. She was a real piece of work. I took the cash out of her wallet, leaving behind some interesting photos of her.. Sweethearts. She noticed the missing money alright, but nothing she did could get me to confess.

Plus, it wasn't like she could just barge into my small apartment and demand money from my parents. That was bad etiquette. Now I was on to poor old Katie Walshe, but she had it coming. The little moron was one of my worst tormenters in elementary school afterall.

"Kenny, are you listening?" Crap. "Oh! Sorry about that Kat I just zoned out. It's a lot to handle, y'know." That did the trick. "Ohhh I know. It's just so tragic! Thanks for listening though, I feel better." Of course she felt better after spilling all that nonsense out to me.

I turned to Katie, who had sat down in front of her large vanity. "What do you say we get ready for The Reaping together?" She giggled in response, pulling me into her immense walk-in closet that instantly swallowed me up in sheer clothing mass. I knew she was rich, but this rich? Her family must be up and comfy with The Capitol.

After trying on fifteen different dresses, sampling ten kinds of makeup and curling my hair until it refused to be altered further, I was pronounced "ready" for The Reaping. Katie invited me to walk towards town square with her friends, but I refused. If she noticed the money was missing, she'd personally order the Peacekeepers to have me delievered to The Capitol on a silver platter.

After bidding my parents farewell and settling myself in with the other sixteen year olds I caught Suzie's eye. She siddled up to me, subtly whispering in my ear: "I hope it's you, you little jerk." Except she didn't use that word. I simply smiled back and waved. "Good luck to you too. May the odds be ever in your favor." She had nothing, nothing, on me. I for one, was pretty and had some of the best mascara in the district upon my lashes. She was just jealous that I had outsmarted her.

I groaned in frustration as the various reaping formalities commenced, dragging on for what felt like hours. When the escort FINALLY arrived on stage and drew the name, it was like time had frozen. My name? How? I've never taken tessearae or anything. As I begin the arduous journey to the stage my eyes fill with tears. I'm rich, this wasn't supposed to happen. Just as I raise the mic to introduce myself I see Katie and Suzie smirking at me with fierce glee in their eyes.

This is what happens when you miss one party. The unthinkable had happened; the conwoman had been conned.

Rico Maine- 17

District 3M

The Morning of the Reapings

T/W Rico's profile contains brief depictions of abuse, animal death, and implication of torture. Please read with caution and skip this chapter if such topics upset you. I'd be happy to fill in the gaps, or provide a more in-depth desciription of the above subjects in my PM's.

I wheel the cart into the operating room, lining each tool up on the tray with religious care. Everything has to be in perfect order. Although it isn't technically legal, I often assist my father with his routine surgeries. It isn't like anyone else in the district knows how to perform anything more than a rudimentary surgeon's knot, for the odd workplace suturing job.

I am fortunate enough to live in District Three; which was sandwiched in between two of the Capitol's favorite districts. This being the case, Three garnered little attention when compared with the other two districts. Hence, the locals had to visit my father and I, or succumb to their injuries.

I blink as I wipe off a rusty scalpel, taking care to cleanse its surface from the deep brown splotches of dried blood. After I'm satisfied I set it down alongside its companions, each of varying shape and size. I glance down to see my cold brown eyes reflected back at me.

Cleaning the surgical tools provides me a release for my emotions, as few as they may be. A man such as myself, experiences two feelings: rage and _, the former is easily triggered and difficult to satiate, the latter; arises from the depraved depths of my being, as if the devil has possessed me.

I remember the day when I first discovered that I just wasn't like the other little boys. I was descending the stairs to the basement, seeking out my father for some petty task, when I discovered him dissecting a rat. However, he wasn't doing so in a way that one would expect to see in a lab. It was cruel, messy and sinister.

A young boy such as myself should have experienced disgust, fear or at the least, shock. But not me. No. I found myself engrossed in the process, eager to reproduce such art for myself.

For a few years I was satisfied with the odd rat, rabbit or occassionally a poor soul's dog or cat. But by the time I was twelve, my father told me that I was ready for something more… Mind you, my mother and twin sisters could never know about our strange fantasies. No, they were much too fragile to handle the reality that their beloved father or husband and son or brother, were cold-blooded killers.

Father kept telling me to wait; that my time would come when I would claim my first human life. And wait I did. I waited another two years for the opportunity to arise, during which I cared for my sisters and showered them with genuine brotherly affection.

Then came my sister Judy's first boyfriend, John. I was always on edge around him, but it wasn't until I found bruises on her wrists that I snapped. My dad and I walked up to his house in the dead of night, ensuring that his mother wasn't home.

What we did to John next, I can't fully explain in detail, but I can describe it as pure bliss. After that encounter I've been assisting my dad with surgeries, many of which lasted much, much longer than their standard duration.

As I'm drawn back to reality, I check the operating room's clock to see that I had mere minutes until the commencement of The Reaping. Ah The Reaping, such a collective time of fear and suffering.

I remove my lab coat, running a hand through my short, black hair. Once I've give my tools one last yearn-filled look, I turn on my heel and head out of the small hospital and towards town square. Due to the hospital's convienient situation, It takes me less than five minutes to reach the square, check in and make my way over to the other seventeen-year olds.

I stand with inhuman stillness, anticipating the moment I would see the horrified face of the female tribute. Time passed rather slowly, as I listened to the monotonous droning of the mayor delivering the yearly pre-reaping speech. At long last, Genuine Paver - the district escort- takes the stage and draws out a female name with his horribly painted nails. "Kendra Brooks"

The girl who mounts the stage looks nothing like the typical female from district three. She has long, midnight curly hair and a face full of makeup? How she got her hands on the stuff in Three is beyond me. This should be.. Interesting to see.

Then Genuine reaches into the male bowl, and the name that is drawn encourages a long, wicked smile to appear on my otherwise featureless face. "Do we have a Rico Maine? Come on up my boy!"

As I take the stage, the crowd shifts uncomfortably at the sight of my unnerving smile. I state my name in a cold, emotionless tone that causes further discomfort. As I look into the crowd my filed of view focuses on my family.

My mother is sobbing into her husbands shoulder. My sisters are clinging to each other tightly, crying silently. But my father meets my gaze and nods. When I see that small glint of pride in his eyes I know this is my purpose.

Look out little tributes, here I come.

A/N Whew! Well here are the tributes from District Three folks. Please forgive my grammar... I wrote this way too late lol. What do you think of their unique uh, personalities. I had a lot of time to kill on the plane home, so I'll be releasing a few more reapings this week. Thank you to wiifan2002 and Cottage_Baker for these well developed tributes! :3 (Hope you liked the cat face cottage)

Here are there phsyical descriptions:

Kendra: Kendra is 5'3, with night-black curly hair and deep hazel eyes. She is of average build.

Rico: Light Skin, Brown Eyes, Short Cropped Black Hair, and his height is 5'9

Thanks for reading!

-Archer