Iris Elmswood, District 5, Age 14, Female

The golden bell attached to our shop door rung as someone walked inside my family's sweet shop.

My head perked up at the familiar sound. I was on shift while my father and mother were in back.

Ever since the rebellion ended the shop had been busier, I guess now people actually had the time. But, really it made you wish that they simply stayed home. Yes, I liked the business, but there was so much more to worry about other than sweets. The war hadn't effected us nearly as much as my friends, or per se the rest of our District. We had chosen to stay neutral in the war. Something not too uncommon for the people in our district.

But that's not what you'd expect.

The man who had just entered was tall, a gun by his side. A Peacekeeper. He was here for the monthly inspection of our shop. Ever since the rebellion they had been suspicious of everyone. Even though we were al too bloody coward to do anything about anything.

They checked the shops monthly, for show of potential rebellion. At the moment he was looking at something blue on one the left shelves. His back towards me and the counter.

I found the whole thing horrible. The war, the loss. The man look around the shop, he picked at an unidentifiable piece of food, I couldn't see it from my place behind the cash. He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at me in question.

I shrunk under his gaze, desperately hoping he would soon leave. He came close instead, I couldn't see his eyes, but it made me nervous nonetheless. He stared me down, I gulped. I heard a chuckle, and then he left. The bell jingling merrily as he left.

I paled, it seemed so wrong, such a happy sound, in such an unhappy world.

I watched him as he went. He glared at a few stands, intimidating the people behind them, running them. I sighed. Safe. No signs of rebellion. If there had been... public wipppings and punishments for me and my family.

Even now, weeks after the rebellion and spies were still out there, but the Capitol would put an end to that soon.

I stepped outside of the cash to look out the window. We lived in the richer part of District 6. But if I strained my eyes I could just about make out the poorer part of our district. To my right, I could make out the trains fir which we were famous for. They took us to the Cpitol. Or they took the wealthiest to the Capitol.

The trains were hustling along the tracks to my left and to my right I saw a lovely family of three. They weren't smiling though, the boy, blonde hair, blue eyes was wailing. I couldn't hear him through the blue stained glass of our shop.

The father was standing tall, and proud, like the dead me member had died doing something great. At least Iassymed someone had died, they were walking away from a graveyard after all. The mother was sniffling not a hankerchidef, it was lovely, purple with floral designs etched into it. You only find that sort of thing in District 8, I wonder where she got it? It seemed that between sniffles she was consoling her little boy, who seemed to have inherited his father's features.

A family of three. They used to be four. The war had taken so much from us, even those who weren't to blame.

When I came to the conclusion that the shop was not busy at all, two customers an hour, I decided to take my break. Seems like the peacekeepers may have scared off all the customers. Even though it was a family business we mockingly acted as if it weren't.

"Taking my break, if you hear the bell then it's probably not me. Open the door." I called to my parents who were currently on the back. Most likely making some sort of sweet. I heard an... Explosion. And thought it was better not to ask. I heard a response, which was my cue to leave. I fastened my hat over my bright red hair, trying to conceal it as to not being to much attention to myself.

I always seemed turn heads when my hair was exposed. In a bland District my red hair was eye catching.

It didn't help that my eyes were a stunning, bright blue. They looked a little like the sky. Reflecting my mood by being stormy or clear.

I grabbed a few coins from the pocket of my coat, which I formerly decided to leave behind, it was summer after all. I needed the money in case I decided to buy something, my family and I couldn't live off of candy now could we?

No matter how lovely it may seem. I swung open the door and gleefully marched outside enjoying he breeze. I kept my head low, receiving a few glares from the poorer citizens. The money in my pocket seemed heavier as I passed them.

I threw some change at a homeless begger before swiftly moving on.

Ever since the war more homeless emerged from the great realm of Panem. Some rich became poor in a matter of seconds. It was horrible.

I hadn't realized it but my feet had brought me to a familiar destination. It was my best friend Cyrie's house. She was a year older than me and much poorer.

The war ruined her family. The details I'd rather not go into. But her father, brother and cousin had all died. Leaving her and her mother to fend for themselves.

We tried our best to help, but we too were slowly slipping into poverty. My parents seemed to make less every day. And having to also help Cyrie was difficult.

Half of our money went to them, which left just enough money for us to pay the Capitol. Cyrie's mother works at the train statios, like the majority of our population. The trains were us.

I rapidly knocked on the door, brushing a loose curl behind my ear.

Five minutes later an elderly woman opened the door. Cyrie's mother wasn't that old, but stress had gotten to her. Her once beautiful face, now encrusted with worry lines and scars. Her once pure blond hair now with gray streaks everywhere.

Her lips were chapped. The poor woman had gone through so much.

Compared to Iris at least. She deserved a better life. I brushed a strand of her golden hair behind her ear, helping her. Over the last year she had become like family to me.

"Iris, dear." Her voice was soft, but she seemed genuinely pleased and excited to see me. "Hello," I peaked inside her home, which was right behind her. Searching for my best friend. " is Cyrie home?" Scrunched my eyebrows together in concentration.

The old woman simply laughed. "She's in her room dear."

"Thank you Mrs. Paulson." I gave her a quick hug at first she was a little surprised, before she embraced me in her warm arms. We were practically the same height, so it was like hugging an old friend.

I walked inside, not even bothering to look at the very familiar setting. I checked the kitchen first, it was where Cyrie, if not in her room, spent most of her time.

when I finally found her snuggled in her room, I couldn't help but laugh. The coins jingling in my pocket as I did. Her blond hair was tangled and puffy.

"Geh Cyrie."

"Dud you just say Geh?" She looked up from her pillow at me, her face scrunched together. Her face and lazy attitude was hilarious. I alway stopped by early in the morning, on weekends when I wasn't at school, to see her in the state.

Even though technically she was older than me, I like to think as myself as the older one. "Eerghmerb, is it the weekend?"

I nodded before bursting into another fit of giggles. My hat tumbling to the floor and coins jingling madly in my pocket. "Did you bring candy?"

My face contorted into a look of mock hurt. My bottom lip jutted out. "Are you saying that we're only friends because I give you candy?"

"Hells yeah." She rolled over into her pillow, trying to hide her laughter. I just rolled my eyes. We both reluctantly started laughing. She turned around to face me.

Opened her mouth, as if to say something. She never finished the thought.

I grabbed a brush from her table and threw it at her. It hit her square in the face, she flopped back down onto her bed with a dramatic clump. We started laughing. Best friends are like that. But by the end of the day, you gotta love 'em.

ooooOoooo

Thirty minutes later my break ended. I slowly dragged myself away from the homely house and started towards the market.

My hat now firmly back onto my head. I should be heading back to the shop now. I stopped by vegetables stand and exchanged my coins for some food. The old lady though grabbed my arm as I started to leave. Her haggle red arm gripped me tightly.

"How old are you now dear?" Her bony hand clutching my arm. I squirmed a little as I replied weakly, "15." My voice came out horse and nervous.

She gave me a sad look before muttering something about games. Which just confused me more, she shot me another sympathetic look.

"Good luck." Her faril fingers gently lifted off my arm. I pulled the bag of vegetables over my shoulder and kept walking. My whole journey home, I just wondered about one thing, the lady had mentioned something called the Hunger Games. And to be honest, that thought scared me more than I would have liked to admit.

So that was Iris. Not much detail on the form so I improvised. Not my best work, sorry. Her future chapters will be much better, I can assure you. I don't need any more bloodbath tributes, but thank you for all your submissions.