District 3. We are pretty much full, people, so get your reservations in, and I can get rolling.

Elizabeth Claris - District 3, 12 years old

Werner sat facing the wall, silently tossing the clay ball up and catching it on the way down. He sat there stone-faced, silently watching the ball as it began its arc from his fingertips and returned back to his palm. He glanced at me as I sidled up next to him, and caught his toss on the way down. The wall went back up. The lights flashed once. The caretakers were signaling bedtime. They of all people should know no one would be sleeping tonight. Werner caught the ball.

"Alright, let's head to bed," I whispered to him.

He gave me a sad look. The ball went back up. The ball came back down. In the dying light, I saw a glint off his cheek. A tear was rolling down.

"What's the matter with you?" I said to him, only half joking. I had never seen Werner cry once in my entire life.

"Go to bed, Liz," he muttered to me. There he was. Werner, big and strong. Werner, 16 years old. Werner, 'I don't need anyone'. He had looked out for me for as long as I can remember. My first memories are of the orphanage, and of Werner. It's always memories of Werner giving me his rations, or of Werner standing up to the orphanage bullies.

"I can take care of myself now. You don't have to sacrifice for me anymore," I told him, a little frustrated. I was 12 years old now. We both still lived in the orphanage, but I didn't need him treating me like the baby he found out on the steps, a bloody gash running down my left arm.

"That's what I'm worried about," Werner turned to me, "You're old enough to get reaped. You're also old enough to volunteer." He knew me too well. For the many years I'd lived in the orphanage, I'd contemplated what I would do if the time ever came. I'd be saving Werner's life, but more selfishly, perhaps I'd be able to meet my parents for the first time.

"I need you to promise that if I get reaped, you won't volunteer," He continued, "Please, Liz. Us orphans don't come back." He was right, of course. In the past five games, three of us had been reaped. Only one made it past the bloodbath. She went on to die the first night.

"Alright. But I need you to make the same promise to me," I said. I saw him grimace knowingly. I continued, "You don't do it, we don't have a deal."

"Spit shake on it," I told him. He reluctantly spit in his palm and took my hand. From that moment, I knew Werner would not be volunteering for me. In his eyes, breaking this shake would be the greatest betrayal of all. He would not break it, no matter how much pain it left him in. I couldn't say the same for myself. Spit shakes were important, but family was so much more. Werner had given me family, and so much more. If the time came, I'd be ready to give him it all back. I wasn't worried for what came after death. I'd never truly lose Werner, and I'd regain my parents, a whole new family.

Wit Jauregui - District 3, 12 years old

There are always things that don't quite make sense, things which breed confusion. People in District Three hated these things, but confusion is what I thrived on. One could say it was the perfect district for me. People here were straight talkers, with a love for science and data. They could tell you the answer to almost anything, but once you threw my silver tongue in the mix, their minds get all wacky and wrapped up in a twist. Making things not make sense was my favorite game. I only truly wanted to know the truth about one thing. And the answer was in my father's study.

My father was a very gifted, very smart man. My sisters, Nomi and Norsa, and I both had that handed down to us. While our father was away at work, he expected us to be glued into our studies. And I was good at them, honestly! I just preferred to use my knowledge in a different way. When my father came home from work, he cared for us, and he put us to bed. However, every night, after checking to make sure we were asleep, he put on his overcoat, and he walked right out the front door. He was always home in time to wake us up for school and help us get ready. That was the one thing I needed to know. I needed to know where my father went off to every night.

Nomi and Norsa were already tucked into bed, dreaming about the quadratic equation. My father was coming into my room next. I heard the creak of my door opening as my father entered the room. He stood still for a second, and I rolled over onto my frontside, hiding my fluttering eyes. I heard his breathing stop and he shifted over to my bedside to get closer. I felt him peering over me. Too much? I thought. I laid completely still for the next few seconds. Finally, he moved away from my bedside. He closed the door, and went to the closet to get his overcoat. I sat up straight in bed.

I crept toward the door, taking note of which floorboards would creak if I stepped on them. I thought I had heard him leave, but one could never be too sure. I opened the door and slinked down the hallway, making my way to the end of the hall, and to his study. I saw the doorknob gleaming, and I knew I had it. I excitedly rushed to open up the door.

"Wit. What are you doing up so late, buddy?" my dad said from behind me.

I froze and turned around. My throat ran dry for the first time in my life. My tongue wiggled around for an excuse, but it was reaching at nothing.

"Needed some milk? Try not to be so loud next time, you'll wake up your sisters," he smiled at me. Damn… good excuse.

"Well, let's get you that glass, and then back to bed," his eyes twinkled at me.

AHA!

My mind finally landed on something. "Hey, dad? What's that big wad of cash in your coat pocket? And why are you wearing a coat, anyway?"

Checkmate.

His smile remained, but it hardened. "Dad has to go help a buddy who got in an accident. He needs a little money. I won't be long. Let's get you to bed, so I don't have to worry about two things at once."

I sat in bed waiting for the front door to open. My dad didn't go to visit his buddy that night, after all.

Elizabeth - She has long brown hair, with golden eyes. She has a long scar running down from her left shoulder blade to her wrist. She's 5'4".

Wit - He's small in stature, with mousy features and dark skin. He keeps his black hair shaved to his scalp.

So we've got two younguns in Three! Elizabeth did not end up volunteering for Werner, by the way. The spit shake bond was not broken.