Logan Webster - District 8 Male - Age 16

Logan ran through the foyer of the St. Clair family mansion, a silver watch clutched in one hand and a Fabergé egg in the other, held closely to his chest. If he could just make it down the stairs, without making any noise, his family wouldn't have to worry about food for at least two months, maybe more depending on how many people in District 8 actually knew what a Fabergé egg was. As his beaten up loafers stuck against the velvet steps, he could practically envision the look on his friend Lucas's face when he saw Logan had successfully won their bet. He'd probably scream something along the lines of "that bastard actually fucking did it!" before handing him some spare change and assisting him in selling the mayor's stolen goods. That was all too good to be true, as before he knew it, he'd banged his elbow on a table at the end of the stairway, knocking over a glass vase of flowers which instantly shattered.

The moments following that constantly flicker through Logan's mind, despite occurring months ago. A shard from the vase hit his leg, not injuring him, but causing him to stop for a moment and examine himself. He felt something prick his leg then woke up with Mayor St. Clair glaring over in between two Peacekeepers. They did not seem very pleased.

"You're under arrest," one of them said.

"All I have to say is that I'm so sorry," Logan stuttered.

"Tell it to the judge," the mayor said before storming back off into his house.

Less than a week later Logan was charged with theft and disrespecting District and Capitol authority, which meant a death sentence. He probably could have gotten out of the situation with some jail time and parole but he had the worst lawyer ever, which was no lawyer at all. The only mercy the authorities showed was they allowed Logan to finish his year at school so he could at least die slightly more educated then he was before. This gave Logan some time to think before his execution, and actually try to think of ways to avoid it, because honestly who wants to be put on an electric chair.

"I figured it out," Logan told Lucas after school.

"Your execution?" Logan could tell Lucas felt bad, as he was the one who's bet had led him into this mess.

"Yeah. I'm a genius."

"You're facing the death penalty in three weeks because you knocked over a vase of flowers, so, not a genius in my eyes."

"And whose fault is that again?" This had become a running joke among the boys, which was the best they could make out of the situation before the inevitable happened.

"It's the fault of the oppressive society we were born in that disables us from making any positive change without breaking the law." Lucas smirked.

"Well, I mean, yeah." Logan laughed. "But it doesn't matter, because I figured out a way around it."

"Well, what is it?"

Logan decided the best way around his execution was to enter the Hunger Games. Did he expect to win? No. But he would get to die on his own terms, and maybe live a life of luxury beforehand. Maybe he would win, but he hadn't really thought about that, and he assumed he'd be executed upon victory anyway, so that wasn't his main goal.

"You're a fucking moron," Lucas said after hearing the idea.

"How?"

"You're still going to die."

That was true. But at least Logan would die after draining resources of the very people who were going to kill him anyway. He would get to eat their food, wear their clothes, sleep in their beds, and only then, after he experienced the best of what his oppressors had to offer, he would die. It was a swan song of sorts.

"I'm just going to volunteer on Saturday!" Logan was determined to follow his plan

"No you're not," Lucas said.

"Fuck. You're right." Logan had forgotten about the twist. "I guess that means I have to ask people to vote for me."

"You sure do."

"Am I popular enough?"

"Is popularity a factor when people are choosing who should enter a battle to do the death?"

"True."

The boys spent the rest of that day and the majority of the next telling people to vote for Logan. They didn't have to do much convincing because most people weren't exactly eager to select someone to quintessentially condemn to death, which worked in their favor until Logan's parents found out about his pseudo-campaigning.

"Were you just not going to tell us you plan about being Reaped tomorrow?" his father asked when he walked into the apartment.

"I didn't think it would matter to you much." Logan was confused. He was already going to die. That was the whole point.

"Does that mean I have to vote for you?" Ava, his sister asked from the couch. They were very close, and she hadn't been taking the whole execution thing very well.

"I'd appreciate it." Logan could see how sad she looked.

"Ok, I guess I will." She sighed, "I don't have anybody else to vote for anyway."

"I'm still worried for you." Logan's mother usually was. "I was hoping there would be a way around this somehow and I'd still have a son."

"Well, I could win," Logan said.

"Anybody could win."

"It's worth a shot, though."

"I guess." His mother sighed. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

Velvette Wilmington - District 8 Female - Age 16

"What do you sell here?"

Velvette glanced up from her sewing machine where she was sewing a maroon and gold vest to see a particularly affluent in appearance younger girl wearing a white dress with a large green bow atop her head.

"Clothing." Velvette assumed that was obvious considering her family shop was full of clothing ,and there was a sign that said "Wilmington Tailors" on the door, but she decided to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. The girl then asked about pricing in regards to the clothing which was definitely odd of her, but Velvette answered the questions nonetheless ,as it wasn't like she had anything better to do.

"I hate it!" the girl declared, after Velvette finally finished explaining the store's happenings.

"Excuse me?"

"The clothing in the Capitol is much better."

Velvette was confused as she listened to the girls ramblings about Capitol fashion and it's superiority to District-made clothing. It was rather strange for somebody from a District to be so seemingly in love with the place that essentially owned them but she tried her best to not be judgemental, as that never got her very far in life. The seemingly abusive commentary from the girl quickly escalated into profanity and nuisance and it began to get under Velvette's skin.

"If you're so obsessed with the Capitol, why aren't you shopping there?"
"Excuse me, why are you acting rude to me?" The girl pouted, "I'm the customer and the customer is always right."

"Well you were being a bitch to me." Velvette immediately regretted her use of that word.

"What did you just call me?"

Velvette regretted her next action even more so than the previous. She took the palms of her hand and pressed them against the girls shoulder, applied force and sent her crashing to the ground.

"You don't know who I am do you?" The girl said after she got up.

"Clearly not."

"My name is Victorique Ravenstill."

"Okay?"

"My grandfather is the president of Panem."

Velvette didn't know what to do. She started begging on her knees for forgiveness but it was too late. A Peacekeeper rushed through the door of the shop asking if Victorique was alright and begrudgingly eyeing Velvette. He put her in a chokehold against the shop wall and demanded she apologize to Victorique. She did so but it was not enough. Velvette was about to be charged with attempted murder when Victorique had another idea.

"Put her into the Hunger Games."

"We can't just do that Ms. Ravenstill," the Peacekeeper said.

"Yes you can. You can demand everybody vote for her."

There was an awkward pause. Velvette shook her head in disagreement while Victorique pleaded.

"I suppose," the Peacekeeper finally concluded.

"Thank you so very much, sir."

And then the two were off. Velvette honestly had no idea what had gotten into her. She'd never experienced such rage like that, and she knew she'd be killed in the arena before she had the chance to feel it again. Naturally, when she told her mother what she had done, she was horrified.

"You did what?" she shrieked.

"I didn't mean to, Mother."

"Well, you still ruined our entire business."

She was right. Even if Velvette somehow won the Hunger Games and came back home, the shop's reputation would forever be tarnished. The family relied on her for her labor as well, as she dropped out of school at 13 to lend a helping hand. Within five minutes, Velvette somehow destroyed her entire family, and herself, and she felt awful.

The morning of the Reaping came around and Velvette's parents refused to speak to her, understandably so. She walked to the reaping with her friend, ironically named Velvet, though he didn't have much to say.

"I can't believe you did that," he said

"Neither can I."

The remainder of the walk was fairly quiet. When she arrived at the Reaping to vote, she was stopped by a Peacekeeper who directed her immediately to her seat. She didn't do much to argue, because nothing could stop her fate from happening.

Logan Webster - District 8 Male

Was it unusual for somebody not from a Career district to be excited for the Reaping? Probably, but Logan didn't care. In fact, he'd never been so excited for something. He was going to die anyway. He kept reminding himself. He was going to die anyways. He put on his best clothing, which wasn't much, but it was a nicely pressed shirt, and sturdy khaki pants. Both of the items were definitely stolen, but it didn't matter.

He practically pranced through the District streets, reminding people to vote for him as he passed them. Ava followed him, clearly uncomfortable, but there was no convincing him otherwise.

"I really don't want to vote for you," she would say from time to time.

"Ava, please."

When they arrived at the Reaping, the Peacekeepers told everybody that their female ballots had to be cast for Velvette Wilmington. Odd, but what else could he do but obey?

He said goodbye to Ava and sat down next to Lucas, excited to begin his next adventure.

Woof Talbot - District 8 Mentor

Woof was far from the ideal mentor. He won his games by hiding from his opponents until they all killed each other and he was left standing. He didn't have a particular strategy, he just figured he'd stay inside a cave he found and see what happened, so he had no idea how to teach somebody else to win. He didn't have a choice, though, because he was the first, and likely the last victor to hail from District 8.

He hardly paid attention to the Reaping. He saw the tributes and assumed they'd be gone the first day, as tributes from 8 often were, so there was no point in him getting to know them. Call it cynical, but to Woof, it's just realistic. The tributes, Velvette and Logan were sort of familiar looking to him, but only because their faces were in the crime section of the newspaper, which was never a good thing. Woof sighed. Here's to another misadventure.

Velvette Wilmington - District 8 Female

Velvette's parents didn't show up at the train station, not that she was surprised about it. Why would they? She'd destroyed them. She did see one familiar face however, and that was Victorique.

"Just wanted to wish you good luck!" She snickered.

Velvette had half a mind to push her again, but she restrained. She could leave the dying for the arena.

"Thank you!" She faked a smile. "You're the sweetest."

Victorique laughed and left the station. Velvette didn't have anything to do so she boarded the train and kissed normalcy goodbye forever.

Logan Webster - District 8 Male

"I can't believe this is real." Ava was on the verge of tears. What did she not understand about him dying on his own terms.

"Ava. It'll be fine."

"I guess this is better than the alternative," his dad said. Finally, somebody understood.

"Exactly."

The family hugged one last time, because that's all they could do and waved goodbye as Logan headed off into his personal freedom.

Thank you for reading Chapter 6! Logan was created by JayFC, and Velvette was created by Reader Castellan. Thanks so much guys! I'm basically done with submissions so thank you so much for all submitting! Have an amazing day!