Intros Three

Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins

Aleyn Garsow, 14, District Eleven Male, Eleven Months Before the Reaping

Everything fades from black to normal. It looks like I'm in the same place as I was before but…

Shit.

Simon is there, lying on the ground, moaning in pain. His cronies are nowhere to be seen. I feel something wet and metal in my hand and look down to see I'm holding a knife. Simon's knife. And then something red makes my eyes turn, and I see blood flowering out from Simon's thigh.

Oh shit. This is bad. He must have taken over.

As if sensing my thoughts, which he probably did, I hear him talk.

"I did it for a reason, you know. He needed to be taught a lesson. No one messes with us."

"Damnit Second!" I say out loud. "Shut up! Do you realize how much trouble I'm in?"

The few people still standing in the dusty and deserted school pavilion mutter and scamper off. Of course, they think I'm crazy.

"It was worth it," the voice says back to me. Just like mine, except cooler, crueler, more aggressive.

"You don't have to reap the consequences," I grumble back to him angrily as I drop the knife and sprint in the opposite direction, towards home.

"Fair."

"You can't keep taking over, I mean it."

"Face it, Aleyn. I'm just as much a part of this body as you are. I need equal control."

I hate you." And I really do, too. Ever since he popped into my head after Mom died, his voice echoing around my skull, tormenting me.

"I know what you're thinking, you know," Second says.

I know. And I hate it.

My house is seventeen blocks away from school, which gives Second ample time to talk.

"You know, I only take over when I need to… When you won't do something that needs to be done… You're too soft, it's a dangerous world…"

I finally arrive at my house, a dilapidated old thing with peeling cream yellow paint on its exterior and a porch that's caved in. I run through the doorway and slam the door shut in my wake.

I find my father sitting in the rocking chair with a half-empty glass bottle in his hands and a few more on the floor. He wears an expression of anger on his already slightly red-tinged face. He must have gotten off work early. Oh no. I shouldn't have slammed that door.

He runs over to me and slams me into the wall.

"What do you think you're doing?" His face is centimeters from mine, the smell of wine pungent and impossible not to gag at but I try. "Nobody, slams the door in my house."

He's drunk. Second is begging for me to let him take over.

"Come on, boy, let me do it to him! I know you want me too! I could give him hell for you!"

My father begins to scream.

"What did I say boy?! What did I say?!"

I try to force myself out of his grip, but my tiny body is no match for his, big, burly, and beerbellied.

"Let me go!" I say. I'm crying now. He's screaming, and Second's screaming, and my body is screaming from the pain of his vice like, crushing grip.

Second is begging for me to let him take over. "I could do it! I could! I know you know I practice with knives when I take over!"

I'm almost tempted to say yes. But I don't.

I scratch my father's hands and blood spurts out. He drops me to the floor, and I begin to crawl away, out of the living room and into my room. He catches me doing it. He grunts, and his footsteps make the floor thunder, but I don't look back, and all of a sudden something hits me in the head, and I feel like little knives are digging into the back of my neck and my back. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts so bad!

I keep on crawling before he can do anything else to me and lock the door. He pounds on it.

"Damn you, boy! You made me waste my drink on you!"

I crawl onto my old bed. The shards in my neck sting like hell, but I can't reach most of them.

"You could have let me take him," Second says.

"No."

We're silent for a long time. Finally, I say "You can't take over my body anymore."

"There's no way for you to stop me."

I just sit for a while after that. I know he's right. There's no escaping this, now. In the darkest part of my mind, I wish those shards had landed somewhere lethal. It's only been a year of this, and I can't take it. I can't it. I want to be with Mom. I can't do this…

I sit on the bed and begin to cry. I need her back. I can't take this any longer. I don't want to face tomorrow, another day of Second permeating my thoughts with his poisonous voice, my voice, and Dad, beating me up every time he sees me, and whatever Simon has in store for me in revenge.

I just want her back. Mom. With her loving smile, and her deep green eyes. I just want her back, and I want Second gone. I wish she had never died, and I wish he never came. A faulty dealing. Her for him.

"Just-"

"Shut up!"

"What'd you say to me, boy?!"

"… You need to let me. You're too wimpy, too scared. I can do things."

Maybe Second is right. But no, the consequences.

I wake up. I must have fallen asleep. I'm in the same clothes. I look outside. It's dark.

I get up tenderly, out of my bed. I look down on to it, and I can see something, an ominous red stain, and a shard of glass. But none of them were gone when I feel asleep…

"Second!"

"Yes, I took over. I think you'll find what I did quite pleasing for you."

"What did you do, Second?" I think I know.

"Yes, I think you know too, Aleyn."

I unlock the door and open it, and there he is, lying there, a knife buried in his inflated gut.

"Damnit Second," I say. Shit, no no no no no! This can't be happening. He can't be dead.

"Do you realize what you've done?!"

"Oh, he's not dead. You won't be going off to the whipping post."

Something tempts me. Take the knife. Stab myself. And I almost do it, but…

"You're too scared," Second says. It's true. I am. "And that's why you need me."

"No," I respond. "I will never need you."

Coleus Yarrow, 16, District Nine Male, 10 Months Before the Reaping

The river trickles by, almost invisible if it weren't for the gleam it makes in the moonlight. I scrub my hands more, and even though I can't see them in the darkness I know that they are scrubbed raw. A few more tears fall into the river and are wiped away.

I don't stop scrubbing, I don't stop, even though I know I'll never get the blood off of my hands. Never, never, never. Was there blood? I don't know.

Oh God… What have I done?

I didn't mean to do it. I thought it would just give her some stomach troubles. Fitting payback for all that she had done to me.

But somehow, I fucked it all up, and now she's dead and it's my fault.

The water hemlock sits on the bay, taunting me. I can see the severed stems of where I picked it. Damnit, I didn't mean to do it.

Will it be traced back to me? Oh shit, it will, won't it? No… No, it won't. But what if it does?

"Ohhh!"

I plunge my face into the water, plunge it back out. I do the same for my hands. I have to get the blood off. I have to get the blood off.

But I can't, and I can't, and nothing I can do is ever going to fix this.

The sun is rising. I thought I had been out here for not that long. Or maybe it had seemed a long time, I don't know, it's just a blur of tears and scrubbing and remorse. I don't know anything. I didn't know what I was doing when I picked that hemlock.

I can picture her now, Mrs. Bones, saying "Now, you should never eat hemlock. Some could give diarrhea. But too much…" But I had been drawn out of my thinking place by the sniggering, and I looked over and there she was, still alive, Pansy, giggling with her cronies and pointing at me, of course they would only do it when Laurel wasn't there. And then it just clicked. And now I remember Mrs. Bones telling us it could be lethal, but I didn't remember it when I snuck out of the bakery and scrambled over to the stream a mile away. This stream.

They made it easy for me, Pansy and all of her friends. They just walked in there and demanded some muffins, and I put them in the oven, and I knew it was the time. And Pansy ate that muffin not knowing it would bring her to her death.

What will Laurel think? Will she know by now? Yes, she will, knowing her she would have brought Pansy a bouquet of flowers yesterday and found out. I can picture her know, her beautiful face with an expression of betrayal, staring at me in shock and hatred, or running into my arms with tears in her eyes. Oh, no.

What will Carica think? She'll be the first to know something is wrong with me, she always is. She sensed something when she ran home with the news and told us. Shit, will she guess?

And what about Hedera? Will she know? Will she guess?

I hold my head in my red hands. But no. I have to keep scrubbing, and scrubbing, and in the light it looks like the raw skin is blood. Because I know this blood will never wash off my hands.

Weeks Later

I walk down the halls, now, and I can feel them peering at me while pretending to be absorbed in things. Laurel stands at her locker, and when she sees me she runs over and hugs me. There's a crappily printed photo of her and Pansy in there. The girl was mean, but she really did love Laurel. She didn't deserve to die.

I look back out into the hall. Everyone is going about their business.

"What is it?" Laurel asks me, looking concerned.

"Nothing," I stutter out quickly, before glancing to see if any are staring.

"You know they're not actually staring at us, right? You just think they are."

"Huh."

"Oh, come on, Coleus. Why've you been so jumpy lately?"

"What do you mean, why am I being so jumpy? I'm not being jumpy, heh heh heh."

Am I being jumpy? Am I? Does she know? Does she know? She probably knows. Oh shit, oh shit, oh-

RIIIIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGG!

Laurel clutches her ears as the bell rings, then hugs me and says "Off to biology!"

She hugged me! She hugged me and didn't kiss me! What if she knows!? What if she knows!?"

In Math, I can feel Hedera looking at me inquisitively. She leans out of her seat and nudges me. "What's up?"

"N-n-nothing." What does she think? Does she know? "Why?"

"Just, you've been looking a little anxious, lately, that's all."

After school, she asks me in the hallway, "Seriously, Coleus, what is it?"

"I'm serious, nothing's wrong."

"Come on, Coleus, I know you, you're always paranoid about something or other. Now tell me what is wrong. I'll listen."

No… No… She knows! She knows! I can't deal with this. I shove the double doors open and run fast, through the courtyard. She runs after me, much faster. After a minute, I'm exhausted, and I duck behind a tree while she passes.

Dang, I need to get in shape.

The whole walk home I feel like the people are looking at me. I pass one of Laurel and Pansy's friends' houses, and then another, and then Pansy's.

The double decker building is draped in black lace sheets, and the shutters are closed. A woman's wailing comes from inside.

When I get home, only Carica is there, manning the cashier.

She stares into my eyes. "Coleus…"

"NOTHING!" I scream and toss my back at her, and completely on impulse toss by bookbag at her. I run to my room upstairs and lock the door.

"Coleus Yarrow!" Her fists pound the door as I slide down it. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

I'm crying, because I don't want her to know, and I know that Carica knows, and I know she knows I knows she knows and I… I…

I burst into tears.

"Coleus… please tell me what's wrong."

I'm silent. She can't know. She can't know. The Peacekeepers don't know, so no one must know.

She waits outside, and I can feel her weight as she too slides down the door.

Silence. For a long time. And finally, "Coleus-

"No! No! No! I can't tell you what I did, no, I can't, even though you want to know it's horrible and I'm dying right now inside and I can't stop scrubbing and scrubbing because it will always be there on my hands and it will always be there and I could have just not done it because you always say that I hold too many grudges but I did and I had so much time but why did I do it because I know that they might come after me but I didn't mean to do it! I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO IT!"

There's another long pause.

"I'm scared."

Sierra Hay-Fields, 17, District Eleven Female, Nine Months Before the Reaping

Most people would be scared right now. I'm not most people.

The dark alleyways and suspicious figures shuffling along the streets in the dead of night, trying to be inconspicuous or trying to be noticed, they don't scare me. The white suits aglow in the night don't scare me, and I haven't seen any of them yet anyway.

None of these people would come after me, they're all friends. The hooded figures around show their faces or give passing waves. I have connections with the men in white, at least the ones down lower in the ranks, and those are the ones that patrol the Backwoods.

Even then, I can be very intimidating if I want to. My six foot frame helps that.

A little boy smudges his face against the window of his house that isn't shattered.

"Sisi!"

I wave back to him. Kale is a boy I babysit, one of many. He likes for me to sing to him. Our little secret. I'd never do it in front of any of this crowd. Oh, the embarrassment.

As I pass his house, I look forward, into the misty fog of darkness. I can just see his silhouette, turning a corner.

I start walking a bit faster. I need to keep up with Cane or I may lose him.

Martin and Rye call out and wave and I respond, but I need to hurry up and go. I hope my neighborhood friends don't think I'm being rude. Martin always says I have a horrible poker face, and that he can always see what I'm thinking, so hopefully not.

I turn a few more corners, keeping chase, and before I know it, I'm in a bad part of town that isn't my neighborhood. Hopefully my appearance will drive people off. If Thorn and Syrco knew I was here, they'd go ballistic. Their baby brother and sister venturing off into the Projects. Yet, they're out of the house, and it's only me, Cane, and our father left. He probably doesn't even know or care that we're gone.

Unlike the rest of my family, I've been noticing he's been leaving at weird hours in the night. Acting odd, sort of distant and absentminded. I know how he acts, too. His everyday habits and mannerisms. What kind of twin would I be if I didn't?

"Hello, lady." An old man walks out from a dark corner, a bulge in his pants.

"Maize? Uggh, fuck off, it's Sierra!"

"Oh, hehe." He inches back into his shadowed corner to lurk.

I'm not surprised that he ventures back in these parts. I know all of the neighbors, even the criminals, but I don't like all of them. He seems to like me, though.

I turn back to the street, hoping Cane didn't hear me. Shit, he's gone.

I start running as light-footedly as I can. Damnit, I can't lose him now.

I find him quickly, he wasn't that far. It seems like he's just standing on the street for a random reason. And then he crouches down with something I can't see from this far away, and then it is gone.

He waits. I slowly and discreetly walk nearer him.

Finally, a trapdoor opens up, and he looks around to make sure no one is watching before he climbs inside. But I'm watching.

I arrive at the trapdoor right before it closes and slip through. I can hear some shouting nearby, and I see Cane walk through a door. Is this where Cane has been going all of this time.

"Good, you're here." The speaker's voice is smooth and silky, almost infatuating.

I stop to listen, but a large hand slaps my back, another wrapping around my waist, and the first hands holds a knife up to my throat.

"Looks like someone followed the boy in," says a man in a gruff voice.

Cane rushes back out of the door. "Sierra?! What are you doing here?!"

"No, what are you doing here?! Is this where you've been going?!"

A tall and extremely handsome man with light brown skin and curly black hair walks out of the doorway, followed by a gaggle of others. In the dim light, I can barely see light green eyes that would striking in the day.

"Cane, who is this?"

"It's my sister, Sierra," he responds, moving to grab the hand of the guard holding the knife. He doesn't relent, and even six foot one Cane can't pull.

"Stop, you could make him cut her!"

Cane lowers the knife and glares at me and the guard I can't see both.

"Is she trustworthy?"

"Yes."

"Would she be willing to join us?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because," the man locks eyes with me, "if she wasn't, we'd have to turn her into the Peacekeepers for a crime we committed.

"Let her go, Silas."

The man behind me grunts and removes his arms. I turn around to glance at him, and he is surprisingly short. I turn back around relieved only to be forced into the room by the handsome man and into a chair.

The room is large but cramped, with many people standing and crowded around a round table. The room is very diverse in age, with mostly middle-aged and younger people, but some elderly citizens and even some children. Some of them I recognize.

"How did you find out about us?" The man sits in front of me and gives me a cold, hard stare, his eyes searching mine for any sense of lying.

"I followed my brother here." I keep my voice slow, steady, and controlled. I'm not scared by these people. "He was disappearing at odd hours of the night. I was curious."

Cane looks at me, shocked. He fancies himself a superspy, apparently.

"What is your allegiance?"

"I don't like the Capital."

"Nonsense," an elderly woman spurts out from the back of the ground. I've seen her hanging out with some of those Peacekeepers.

An uproar starts, and many faces glare at me.

"Not all Peacekeepers are bad," says a man from the back. He steps forward.

"Dio?"

"Yes, Sierra, I'm here too."

Dio is one of my Peacekeeper friends, but I don't see him much, he is stationed outside of the Backwoods… Could he possibly be the one who patrols the street near the entrance?

The tall man speaks up again. "What is your name?"

"Sierra Hay-Fields."

"Well, Sierra," he says, "welcome to the group."

The crowd of people has mixed reactions, some cheering, some looking grumpy.

"I'm Lilo," the man interrogating me. Lilo. A pretty name, I think.

"Now," I ask, "can you tell me what this place is?"

He considers this. "We are an underground rebel society intent on eventually overthrowing the Capital's rule. We call ourselves the Hoods. Each of us has our own special reason for joining, sometimes one we don't want to talk about with others."

I look over to Cane and meet his eyes. His childhood best friend and girlfriend Daffodil died in the Hunger games two year ago. I remember shielding his eyes and comforting him as the District Two Male beat her with his club.

Lilo goes on explaining, and I get lost in his beautiful eyes, and then he says "Meeting adjourned," and everyone starts piling out.

Eventually, me and Cane are back on the streets, high in the sky.

"You really did scare me there you know," Cale says.

I laugh. A loud and boisterous laugh that sounds like it would come from a girl half my age. A laugh without fear of being attacked, because I'm not afraid.

"So what do you think about Lilo," Cane asks me.

"Hmmm…"

"You know, you've always had a very expressive face."

"Oh come on." We both laugh. "There's just something I like about that commanding authority I see in him."

"I see that same thing in you."

Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter! I hope you like it, I don't really think it lives up to my other two intros, but please leave your thoughts on the chapter and the tributes introduced here in the reviews. Big thanks to MicoNico for Aleyn, 66samvr for Coleus, and Juud108 (If you're still reading.) for Sierra. Now, for the questions:

Who is your favorite character that has been introduced so far, and are you rooting for them to win?

What plant did Coleus use to accidentally kill Pansy?

Just so you know, the next intro chapter may take a bit longer to come out, because I'm starting back on my schoolwork and getting a special new addition to my family, so yay for me and please come back for more!

-Mills