Jack Schnapps, District Nine male (13)

People see a blind kind and think "Aww, what a brave little angel! They're probably so kind and sweet". I am a lot nicer than I used to be, but that was kind of because of the blind thing. Humbling things have a way of… humbling you. Ever since I went blind- that's retinitis pigmentosa for you- I'd been trying to turn my life around and be a better person. But if turning my life around meant being a better person, that implied I used to be a terrible one. Which was true.

"There he is," my father said, probably pointing at someone. Dad wasn't very good at remembering the difficulties of my blindness, just the possible advantages. While I didn't know where he was pointing, I knew who he was pointing at. Milton Chubb was the son of one of the richer bakers in our area. He was also an absolute psycho. The first thing made him a tempting target for my father's scheme and the second thing made him an ideal target.

"I have to get to the Reaping," I protested, my father yanking my arm when I tried to pull away.

"Get out there," my brother said. He dragged me forward a few feet and then shoved me. I put out my arms to catch myself and smacked into what I could only assume was Milton.

"Watch it, twerp! What's your problem?" Milton confirmed by yelling at me. I felt a hand smack into my head with enough force to knock me to the ground. One of many things my father would never understand- though I suspected it was worse and that he did understand- was how utterly terrifying it was to be attacked by someone you couldn't see. I didn't even know what parts of my body to shield as Milton started kicking at me. All I could do was turn my face to the ground and endure it.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" my father said, like he had ever cared about me. I heard scuffling noises as he got in between us and pushed Milton away.

"He's beating up a blind kid!" my brother Daniel yelled to the crowd waiting around the Reaping center. There was a clamor and the ground vibrated with feet all around me as people rushed over. Someone took my arm and helped me to my feet.

"Are you okay?" a gentle woman's voice asked. I tried to hold back the tears at both the pain and the wistful pain of having someone other than my mother actually care about me.

"He's fine," my father said gruffly, pulling me away. He tugged me toward Milton- I could tell by all the people gathered around scolding him. Daniel was among them, saying how evil Milton was and how could anyone attack a blind child?

"My boy's going to need to see a doctor. Take care of it and I won't report this to the police," my father said.

"Like I care," Milton said. The crowd burst into a clamor again and he hastily added, "Whatever. Just take it." I flinched as his hand hit mine and before I could even close my hand around the money my father took it.

"Was that so hard?" my father asked after we got away from the crowd. "You always make it so difficult. And see, you have plenty of time to get to the Reaping."

It was a relief to stand by myself among the lines of boys at the Reaping center. Sometimes it felt like I was in purgatory. Before I went blind I used to be just like Dad and Daniel. I'd changed, but I didn't think it really counted for much if I only stopped bullying people after someone bullied me and I knew how it felt. I really wasn't getting anything I didn't deserve- anything I hadn't done to people who didn't deserve it at all. What kept me going was the hope that if I stayed on the straight path and kept improving myself then I'd grow up to be a good man and could pay my mother back for everything she did for me. I wasn't sure how I'd do it yet but I had hope that it was possible.

"Good morning, Nine! Are you ready to see who's representing you in this year's Games?" the escort's voice called from the stage. My father never paid much attention to the Games, or to me outside of his scams, but this time he'd mentioned both of them. He told me if I got Reaped I needed to make sure I died in 22nd place. He wanted to take out a bet.

Amaranth Harvey, District Nine female (12)

Dog poop is gross. That made it perfect for what I had planned. The only bad thing was I had to pick it up first. Oh well, I could just use a plastic bag.

Marty, Jo, Rico and I tittered and whispered to each other as we snuck up to Mr. Chubb's house. He was no angel himself but his son was something else entirely. No one liked Milton and not a single person in town was going to be mad about what we did.

"You sure he's home?" Jo whispered.

"Yeah, I just saw him at the window," Rico said, pointing at a window on the far side of the house. Jo and I snuck up to the porch and laid the bag full of dog poop right in front of the door. I knelt down and took out a lighter, wrinkling my nose at the poopy smell. I flicked the lighter and held the tiny flame to the bag. It took a moment to get started, since I didn't want to get too close to the paper we'd laid on top of the poop to help it burn. It finally caught and started to lick at the edges of the paper. Jo ran off to hide behind a bush with the rest of our friends while I waited to make sure we had a nice strong fire that wouldn't go out before Milton got here.

When the tongues of flame were a few inches high I knocked on the door.

"What? What do you want?" Milton called from inside. I knocked again, louder and more urgently, and then ran off, my heart speeding up as I thought of Milton on the other side. I dove behind the bush. A few seconds later Milton opened the door.

"What?" he demanded as he threw the door open. He saw the flames and swore as he looked down at them. He raised his foot and we all held our breath.

STOMP!

Milton's foot came down on the bag as he went to stomp out the flames. The bag gave out underneath him and his foot squished down into the pile of dog poop. He raised it out, swearing some more, and started trying to shake the poop off. My friends and I burst out cackling and Milton looked over at the noise. We sprinted out from behind the bush, which was a safe distance from Milton's porch, and I turned my head to shout back at him.

"The Humble Squad got you good!" I taunted as I ran.

"Get back here!" Milton screamed, his face red as he ran after us. We all split up and ran between different houses to get him off our tail.

"You shouldn't have stolen Billy's lunch money!" I called back. "Better knock it off or we'll do it again!"

Milton could only pick one of us to chase. He picked me but broke off when I got in sight of the Reaping center with its crowds of witnesses. Jo ran out toward me as I jogged over and we met up with the rest of our group, high-fiving and cheering.

"Guess Milton's having a crappy day!" Marty crowed. The rest of us groaned and threw up our hands in exaggerated disgust.

"See you after the Reaping," Rico said as he headed off to join his line. "Don't get Reaped!"

"You too!" I said as I walked toward my own line. Sure we were all a little scared, but only a little. Most of us were twelve years old. What were the odds?

Wow bummer of a year for Nine. Also bummer of a day for Milton but he's a terrible person.

Amaranth: African American descent, has short curly dark hair, brown eyes, and is 5'0.
Jack: He is of German descent with light brown hair, green eyes, is 5'1, and always wears black glasses with black lenses.

Also the 3m is on the way so that takes care of almost everyone!