Reapings Part One:

Adonis DiMae, 18, District One Male

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I let out a sigh. ''Today's the big day,'' I mouth to myself, shaking my head as I do. You'd expect me to be ecstatic, elated even, but I'm not – I can't be, not today. Well, not completely, at least. I'm prepared for today and I'm amazing, which is why I was chosen to volunteer.

But Aphrodite is just as amazing, which is why we're going in together. I'm not looking forward to her volunteering, but what can I do about it? Speaking to her won't work, especially since she's been looking forward to this day for the longest time – we both have. We've worked our asses off for this opportunity, and we're not about to waste it.

Leaning against my cabinet, I place my right hand on the bottom of my chin and let out a sigh. Trust me, I'm quite happy to go into the Games. I can raise hell in there, and even kill to win, but I'm not psychopathic like people see volunteers to be. What a typical stereotype...

Checking my appearance one last time, I push my golden blonde hair away from my face, making sure that I have a clear vision of wherever I'm going. I neatly place everything back in its correct spot, from my tooth paste to my towel.

Instead of going downstairs like I should be doing, I lean against the wall of my bathroom and fold my arms across my chest. Slowly shutting my eyes, I breathe in and exhale slowly, relaxing and making myself feel comfortable for a moment's notice. It's always good to be laid-back for me, because nothing stresses you out and you just feel calm.

If only more people would understand that, but they're who they are, and I'm who I am. And I am the best male trainee in District One. But even with being the best, I don't have to act like the best. I'll take my time before getting serious, and when I mount that stage, I want to come off as calm and collected, not someone who's impatient and anxious to get into the Arena. There's still time, and when the time does arrive, everything can unleash.

''Adonis!'' My father's voice travels from one ear and out the other, making me jolt my eyes open. I don't even bother to reply, as I open up the bathroom door and meeting me when I do is nothing but empty, hollow silence. Slamming the door behind me shut, I begin walking down the stairs and as soon as I make it to the bottom, I'm greeted with something better – the warm smiles of my family.

''Hey, Adonis,'' my mother says kindly, her hands held out in front of her. She slowly walks up to me and wraps her arms around my waist in an embracing hug, staring up at me as she says: ''I know that you're ready for today, and I'm happy for you. You and Aphrodite both. Please, just make sure that one of you comes back to me, because I don't want you both dying.''

Now placing my arms around my mom's back, I look down at her and kiss her forehead. ''Don't worry, mom. Aphro and I will do just fine, so you don't have to worry. One of us will return to you, and as for the other... Well, we'll treat whoever dies with the most respect, okay?''

Sniffling, she wipes away a tear with her shirt and lets out an encourage sigh. ''Okay.'' She laces her fingers around mine and begins walking with me, where we stand at the head of the table and I lock eyes with my father.

''It's about time you've arrived,'' Aphro says, smacking my shoulder lightly. ''Dad's already given me my token, and we were waiting on you in order to head out. We had breakfast and everything ready, but you took too long, Adonis.''

''Hey, it's fine,'' I reassure. ''I don't need breakfast. I'm sure they'll have plenty to eat on the Train Ride to the Capitol, where you and I can stuff our faces with whatever delicacies they present.'' Even though I'm saying this now, I'm lightly shaking my head so that they can't see. The reason why I'm doing this is because I'm thinking of not volunteering, but I know that if I don't, it'll bring shame to my family.

Father will be devastatingly upset, and mother would either be relieved or disappointed – she's very indecisive, never knowing whether she'd prefer one thing or the other. And Aphro... She'd never not volunteer. She knows that this is her year, and she wants to make it count. If I don't volunteer, she'll never think of me the same ever again.

''Good,'' she says, smiling at me and then soon turns away. ''Now, Father, didn't you have something to give Adonis before we leave for the Reaping? I'm sure he'd be very excited to see it.''

''Right,'' my father says. ''Adonis, come here.'' As he demands, I act out and strut towards him. When I stand right in front of him, he looks right into my eyes and reaches into his pocket, then he pulls out a pendant – the DiMae family pendant that's a heirloom passed down from father to son. And if I come back, I can pass this down to my son. ''This... This is one of the only things I have left, Adonis. I'm trusting you with this, and this is a perfect time to hand it over to you. You know why I've kept this, don't you?''

''Because Aunt Reese would kill you if you gambled that away, too.'' I ask rhetorically, rolling my eyes. My Mother gasps and my sister lets out a carefree snicker. Father gives me a forbidding look and clutches onto my shoulder tightly. ''Hey, I'm just kidding,'' I explained. ''Calm down.''

''Adonis, this is serious,'' he coughs out. ''One of you needs to win the Hunger Games, because we owe people. I can't keep living like this, and I require that money. Take it!'' He shoves the pendant into my hand. Funny how at first it was we, now it's just him. ''And don't come back without it. Now, let's go.''

I grab the pendant and begin walking away. Without waiting for my family, I travel across the streets of District One until I reach the Town Square. Instead of rushing, like most volunteers would, I dawdle until I reach the stamp lines and meet up with Giselle. I tap her shoulder and she quickly turns around and gives me that what? look. ''Hey, Gis.''

''What, Adonis?'' She asks. Laughing, I begin to tell her about how much I don't want Aphrodite to volunteer, and every single time Aphro's name comes up, Gis can't help but let out a cherry blossomed blush. ''Uh-huh,'' she says, nodding her head until we reach the front of the line. ''Okay, Adonis, shut up, would you?''

''Are you-''

Something bumps into me, and I'm pushed forward, which leads to Giselle getting bumped. The both of us turn around concurrently and snarl at the small child who stands there and looks at us with wide eyes. ''What the hell is wrong with you?'' We say at the same time. ''Are you blind, you fucking idiot? Go back to your mom so she can fucking teach you how to walk properly, because she honestly didn't do a good job at raising you!''

The kid begins quivering as Giselle and I turn and look at each other. Funny how we both voiced the exact same words at the exact same time. She's exactly my type of girl – but I know she doesn't swing for guys, which honestly sucks. ''Well, that was brutal.'' Aphrodite says. ''Just like the good 'ol Adonis that I know. You ready for this?''

''Yeah,'' I say bluntly. Looking around for Giselle, I realize that she left as soon as Aphrodite appeared and is just... gone. I get my fingers pricked and go to the eighteen-year-old male section. Just as I arrive, the entire audience of District One begins to let out cheers and screams and hollers of joy. Staring up, I notice that last year's Victor – Hero – just arrived with his adopted daughter. I guess you could call her that.

I slowly begin to zone out and don't manage to realize that the mayor has mounted the stage, read the Treaty of Treason, left, and let Palmea Jouier – District One's escort who's been here for more than a decade – introduce the video that the Capitol had presented for us, and already has her hand in the females' bowl. She anxiously takes out the slip, already knowing that a volunteer will arise as soon as the name is read. ''Piper Wildon!'' She announces.

Thrusting my head to the right, dreading the moment that my twin raises her hand up into the air and yells out the forsaken words, I begin to sweat but keep calm under the pressure. Every girl in the eighteen-year-old section moves out of Aphro's way and leaves an opening for her until someone yells out, ''I volunteer!''

A beautiful girl with features of a model and flowing black hair quickly runs up to the stage, and as I stare at Aphro, I watch as her mouth gapes wide open and her eyebrows furrow. She clenches her fist and it seems as if steam is rising from the top of her head. I don't even dare to let her see me staring, and turn back to see Gari – the Victor before Hero – jump up from his seat and give the girl a deathly glare.

She wastes no time and grabs the mic from Palmea. ''The name's Blush Belfleur, and can we just give a round of applause for our Victor there, Gari?'' I begin to snort to myself. This is gonna be good. ''Never let a man do a woman's job because we all know that Gari isn't capable of bringing back another tribute, or letting out the truth, now is he? There's a lot you all don't know about him, and I promise to reveal everything when I get back.''

Blush hands the mic back to Palmea; she doesn't even bother to say anything. She quickly rushes over towards males' bowl. Unfolding the slip that she grabbed, she begins to announce the name of the boy. ''Aragio Cormat-''

''I volunteer!'' I yell out fully, but unlike before when I was dreading it, I feel good about this. Aprhodite won't be at a risk of dying, and I can go all-out in these Games. Nothing could get better than this moment right here. I ascend the stage and introduce myself before Palmea is able to ask. ''Adonis DiMae, District One's very own chosen volunteer. I promise to bring back goods and riches for all of you, and you can count on my words!''

''Give a round of applause for your tributes, District One: Blush Belfleur and Adonis DiMae!'' Everyone begins clapping, even Aunt Reese. She sits in her Victor's chair but gives me a weird look, one that's kinda relieved but upset that Aphrodite wasn't able to volunteer. I shrug and look back into the sea of kids, where I lock eyes with Aphro. Nothing good comes from her look, especially when she mouths the words ''Kill that bitch.''

Bobbing my head, I make her a silent promise and then turn to Blush. ''Thank you!'' I drawled. ''Thank you so much!'' She gives me a quizzical look, but I don't even bother to pay any sort of attention to it.

''For what?''

''For volunteering,'' I add. ''Now I can play these Games properly.''

Clarice Auden, 18, District Four Female

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Instantly waking up to the sound of my alarm, I throw the covers off of my body and roll out of bed. Quickly opening my door, I carefully stare at every child who opens theirs as well, and they all take a peak at each other. They see this as some type of game – for whoever can make it to the bathroom first – but I see it as competition and race ahead.

One of the little boys tries to open up his door fully but I slam it shut and watch as his fingers get crumbled on the outside, turning into a disgusting shade of violet as the blood stops circulating in his fingers. A little girl thinks she can get ahead of me, but I reach out, grab her ponytail and twist, then slam her onto the floor.

''Ow!'' She yells, grabbing her head. ''I'm gonna tell on you!'' Turning back to give the young girl a glimpse, I tell her just how much I care in the most sarcastic way possible, and open up the doors to the bathroom; I manage to groom myself and get everything done in under ten minutes, so I start heading downstairs.

''Guys, come eat!'' Milah yells. Smiling to myself, I make it to the kitchen and observe as she places down bowls of waffles and glasses of milk, her mother handing her the food. She notices me and gives me a welcoming nod, along with a smile that makes me tingle on the inside. ''Hey, Clarice!''

''Hey, Milah,'' I return. She places a bowl right beside mine and sets three waffles – one number more than what I have – on it. Pursing my lips, I reach in and take one from the plate just as the little girl that I pushed down earlier this morning takes a seat next to me. She yells out at me and tries to reach for her waffle, but I smack her hand away and munch down on it.

''HEY!'' She screams. ''You can't just take my food like that!''

''Be quiet,'' I demand. ''I'm volunteering today, so I have to get something to eat. Two waffles isn't enough to fill my appetite.''

''Yeah, well you're not even in the Hunger Games yet!''

Growing unsteady, I try to maintain my calm and tell her, ''But I will be.'' She frowns and demands that I give her back the food that she rightfully deserves. ''Listen, kid,'' I grab her shirt. ''This basically is the Hunger Games. It's survival of the fittest, and if you're not down here early enough to get your own food, or fast enough to get to the bathroom first, then that's your problem, not mine. Grow a pair and deal with it!''

''Hmph!'' She pouts. ''It's not like you'd even be able to win the Hunger Games with that attitude! You're rude, annoying, mean, bossy, and don't even count as a tribute! I bet that if you even joined the Careers, they'd turn on you in an instance and kill you right off the bat, because you're a failur—''

She's unable to finish her sentence when I smash the waffle into her face and backhand slap her. Milah lets out a shrill scream and I grab the bottle of milk from the table, only to smack it across the child's face. She yells on the floor, me on top of her with my fists repeatedly moving up and down, back and forth, until I see her weaknesses and fear take over her. ''Don't ever tell me that I'd never win!'' I grunt. ''Don't ever call me a failure!''

''So God help me, if I don't-'' Milah runs over and grabs my arms, the soft, tender feeling of her skin taking me aback. I quickly stop, not even letting Milah tell me to stop, because I can't continue this, especially not if she wants me to. I owe her almost everything, and I understand when I'm taking things a little too far. Plus, letting anger get over me this early isn't good for myself. ''Damn.''

I look down at the girl and turn back to Milah. ''Clarice... Don't do it, please. This isn't helping,'' she states. ''I understand all the frustration that's deep inside of you, but... Is it really worth it? Is doing all of this, going in to hurt people, really worth the goals that you have set for yourself? Jesus Christ, Clarice, this is like when you almost killed that boy back at the Academy... She's a little girl! Don't-''

''I get it,'' I sigh, my anger quickly dissipating. ''But yes, it is worth it, and I'm carrying out with it. I have to thank you, Milah, for everything that you've done. I don't wanna waste any time, so I'll be heading out now.''

''But why? Why volunteer?'' She asks, flustered. ''Revenge is never good! And when you gain that revenge, you only regret it in the end, Clarice! What if you don't come back? Don't leave me!''

''You know why,'' I shake my head. ''If I don't do it, then my life isn't worth living. I'd be failing. I have to achieve the goals that I set for myself, and getting my revenge is the only way that I can do that; and volunteering is the only way that I can get my revenge. You and your mother are my only friends, Milah. And you know that I'd never leave you. Just believe in me, please?''

With that, I exit the Community Home and begin my walk to The Square. As I'm walking, I make sure to pass by the ocean and listen to the sweet sounds. The ocean breeze whispers like a lover, placing salty kisses on my cheek and tousles my long brown hair. Although it's nice, I never forget that this breeze is just a mere hint of power, that when roused it can toss whole ships like toys to smash on the rocks.

Something that I desire being able to do to certain people.

Closing my eyes as I walk, I carefully listen to the lullaby of the ocean, while breathing in its poignant, salty breath.

''Clary!''

My eyes shoot open, and looking ahead of the view, I see Adriana Lamille and her family walking to The Square. They all linger in front of me for longer than I expected, but I don't mind it. It's just that the sight of the family isn't very pleasant. I'm upset, confused and frustrated all at the same time.

''Hey, Adriana!'' I call out. Once I reach the entire family, I put on the cheeriest face that I could possibly administer. ''Hey, all, how are you guys doing today?'' I specifically eye their mother, Bridget Lamille. It's hard not to give her a scowl, but I'm doing as well as I can, as of now.

''Clary, how are you?'' Adriana asks again, and I answer her, saying that I'm doing well. Baby Rickon begins clapping his hands and stares up at me, while Aidan – who I hate – still manages to make me smile just with his appearance. ''Glad to hear that! We were just heading to the Reaping. Would you like to walk with us?''

''No, no, it's fine,'' I tell her. Looking at this girl makes my heart drop a little bit. I'm just using her to get to Bridget – to get to mom – but I feel guilty. She's so sweet and I just feel inclined to protect her from such a bad person. Her and the other kids are the only people in this world that I can't let Bridget destroy. They don't deserve it... My brothers and my sister... None of them.

''Are you sure, Clary?'' I hate that nickname, but since it's Adriana, I always let it slide. Baby Rickon lets out a verbatim sentence and I can't help but smile, while Aidan has already left the family. ''You're always welcome to do anything with us, you know?''

''It's fine,'' I reassure. ''Go on without me, I'll be good on my own!'' She nods her head and leaves with the rest of the family. But to my surprise, Bridget doesn't go and excuses herself from everybody else, marching towards the ocean instead of The Square. What a perfect opportunity to confront her, to let out everything that I've been holding in.

But no. Not now. After, and if, I win the Games, I'll let everything out. I'll let Adriana and the rest know exactly who I am, and I'll tell Bridget everything and gain my revenge; let her know how I feel and all about what she's done to me.

Every single thing.

I continue to think about the entire family as I make my way to The Square. While walking forward, I notice the dirty looks that everyone around begins to give me. It's not surprising; I have a bad reputation in this District for doing so many things.

I use people, take what I want and do what I want, even hurt people sometimes unwillingly, but that's only because they've managed to anger me to the point where there was no holding back. People need to understand that others have a certain way of dealing with things, and my way is by having everything exactly how I want it to be.

Controlling my anger is a challenge, but at the Academy, that's the first thing they teach you to do, and I've learned and benefited from it. Now, I just need to learn to do that when I'm in the Arena, but everything has to go according to plan, whether people like it or not.

Wanting to get this over with, I push through all of the lined trainees and make my way to the front of the line. Poking out my finger, I let the Peacekeeper stamp it with a needle and accumulate a sample of my blood.

Walking to the eighteen-year-old female section, I patiently wait for everyone to finish. They finish sooner than I expected, which allows the Mayor of District Four to get the Treaty of Treason out of the way so that the Escort can speak. I don't bother to pay attention to her, or the video that's playing. I just wait for her to call out the female's name so that I can volunteer already – and she finally does. ''Marissa Collard!''

''I volunteer!'' I waste no time and rush out of my aisle, turn on my engines and bolt up the stage. The Escort doesn't even open her mouth, because I don't allow her to, and I introduce myself. ''Clarice Auden. I have a goal to achieve, and I won't stop until I get what I want.''

''Well, thank you, dear,'' she says. ''It doesn't seem like you'll disappoint, and I bet your District can't wait to see you in the Arena.'' She walks over to the males' bowl. ''Anyway, the male tribute is... Damian Barell!''

''I volunteer!'' Someone in the audience yells. The boy walks out, and I squint my eyes when I see that he's not- Wait, I see now... I forgot, the chosen male volunteer this year injured his neck in a training accident and someone was called in for backup. The boy steadily walks up and stares straight forward, but sweat drips on his body from head to toe.

He looks like he's under some serious pressure, but everyone who's chosen to volunteer is. Except for me. I'm ready for this, and I want this. Without this, my life won't get any better. It's my only chance, and I'm not wasting the opportunity that I've been given. This is like a gift for me – something special that's been granted, something that I can use to gain the answers that I've been searching for, to prevent something from happening a second, third, and fourth time.

The boy gets closer and closer, and when he finally gets on top of the stage, he introduces himself.

''Hi. My name is Zeppelin Cross, your replacement volunteer. I promise that I'll do the District proud and make sure that you have yet another tribute coming home. I'll carry the strength of all of you, each and every single one of your wills, and carry it to Victory as best as I possibly can. I hope for your support, and thank you for this opportunity. This has always been a lifelong dream of mine, and I don't intend on wasting it. Once I get into the Arena, I promise I'll do everything to make this District Proud. And mark my words, I won't just do my best to make sure one of us comes home,'' he breathes. ''I'll assure it!''

When he says this, he stares out at one person, like he's reaffirming something that they told him to say specifically. But then he turns and looks at me, and just like him, something just clicks. I've seen his face before, and I know him. For a second, all of the noise around us is muffled and I'm brought into a deep thought. I'm barely able to hear the audience's applause, because memories begin flashing in my head, float around like a river, and I start reminiscing about... Zeppelin.

''You... I know you!'' I say. ''You were in the Community Home before, weren't you? Three years ago, in High School..! Wow!''

''Give it up for your tributes, District Four: Clarice Auden and Zeppelin Cross!''

''Yeah! It's been a while. And now look at us, going into the Games together.''

For some reason, he just calms me down. Like, I feel as if he's the only person that can make me feel safe, or just not angry, or confused, or upset, or any type of other terrible feeling. This is honestly such a shock, because he was probably one of the only people that I befriended back then- No! Not one of the only – he was the only friend I had.

And now I'm reunited with him. We were such great friends who got along well, so everything can go back to how it was before, hopefully. We'll work well together in the Games. We can rule the competition!

Suddenly, I feel so relaxed knowing that there's someone I'll be able to get along with.

''Time sure has changed, hasn't it?''

Bree Andersson, 17, District Six Female

Slamming my hammer down against the tire wheel, I make sure that the iron nail enters the smooth rims for this newly developed vehicle that our current blueprints require us to make. My arms begin to tire but I continue to work as hard as I can, making sure that I get the job done before the Reaping Bell chimes and signals for me to make my way down to The Square.

My skin begins to take on a glossy shine and salty drops invade my eyes. Despite this, I keep moving, but the sweat is a welcoming addition, cooling and helping me feel like I'm working hard. I don't stop, though, continuing to hammer harder than anyone else in this rusty, dirty, crusty old factory, but it's not until my arms finally give up when I realize just how wet my clothing has become.

''Damn, Bree,'' Miles calls out. He crosses his legs together and uses my shoulder as an arm rest while giving me a beam and crinkling his eyes. Nice. What a well-meaning smile. ''Why work so hard? We don't have to take today seriously, remember? And the way you're stroking your arm while hammering down on that rim, you're so passionate about it!''

''You know that I take my work seriously,'' I roll my eyes. ''I love it. This is my life, and you know how aspiring this is for me. If I didn't have this, not much would be going on for me right now.''

''Well, you sure have proven your worth for this factory,'' he states, patting me on the head. ''You're incredible with these vehicle preparations, and probably the best worker here. Remember when you first came here and everyone was all like, 'Oh, a young girl like her could never live up to our expectations'?'' I nod my head. ''Yeah, well look who's proved them wrong. You've grown on us a lot, Bree – who knew that six years could pass by so quickly?''

''I owe it to the best of the best, Miles. After all, you did teach me about all this. Through hell and back, we've been in this together, and this factory is like a second home to me.'' Miles lets out an 'aw' and starts laughing. ''And yeah, time does go by fast. Just imagine, in one more year I'll be completely free from the Games! And this is your last Reaping, so that's even better! And after three more years – which seems like a long time – Evan will be over with the Reaping, too!''

''Yeah! And we can live life freely!''

''Yeah, freely.'' I laugh, but quickly stop after I realize what he just said. ''Because free means that we don't have to work, provide for our families, buy food, live in a home, and figure out what to do with the rest of our lives, right?'' Miles just stands there and looks at me, but he's used to my sarcasm by now. ''Think, Miles! Nothing comes free in Panem, you should know that!''

''Go easy on him, Bree,'' Gunvor breaks in. ''You know how Miles thinks. Although it may not be the best way, the kid still has a good head on his shoulders and knows what he's talking about. You know he just doesn't think it out thoroughly. Go easy on the sarcasm.''

''Yeah, I get you, Gunvor,'' I sigh. ''But sometimes people oughta repeat the thoughts that they have in their minds before speaking, don't you think?'' Together, we all share gleaming smiles. ''Now, if you guys will excuse me, I gotta finish up the tires before I can clock out. I'd rather get this out of the way early so that after the Reaping, I can get back to it and finish the last two.''

Just as I'm about to begin hammering again, Miles grabs my wrist and says, ''Come on, Bree.'' He won't stop groaning. ''Take a damn break. We have like, twenty minutes left!''

''And twenty minutes is enough time to get another rim done, as well as maybe even twenty-five percent of another rim.'' Turning back, I grab the air pumper and place it into the tire's hole, begin pumping until it turns into an adequate shape and the feeling is sufficient and plump enough to the point where it can last months on end without needing any reparations.

The rims look nice, the bolts are screwed on nice and tight into the wheels, and now the only thing left to do is paint it so that it can go well with the color of the vehicle. Just as I'm about to grab my the blue and red spray paint – patriotic much? – I hear coworkers yelling at someone.

Multiple clangs hit the floor. At least ten coworkers begin to surround one person, which catches my attention. Putting down my equipment, I grab a cloth rag from the table and wipe the paint from my hands and face off, then I make it towards the group and see an opening.

Catching a glimpse of Evan, my friend, I watch as in a haste to leave the oil can on the counter, he pushes it forward, but it doesn't slide as he intended it to. His grasp is too weak and it slips, free falling to the concrete floor. His hand shoots after it, only to grab at the air and instead he's rewarded with the sickening crack of hard metal and stone, and the oil leaks from the container all over the floor like a puddle, staining everyone's pant legs heavily.

Looking up after his accident, Evan does nothing but gulp as the sweat trickles down his back, free flowing like condensation on a window pane, beads on his forehead and drips from his chin. Everyone instantly gets on Evan's ass and starts pushing him around in the circle, shouting all types of curses as he tries to apologize.

''I'm sorry!'' He tries.

''What's sorry gonna do at a moment like this, kid?!''

''Yeah! We have five minutes until the bells chime and you just knock oil off the fucking counter and get the floor soaked!''

''How are we supposed to clean this up in time?!''

''You're gonna get a-''

''HEY!'' I yell, pushing through everyone. I now stand in the middle of the circle and clutch onto Evan's shoulders, stopping him from falling to the ground. ''What the hell is wrong with all of you, picking on a little boy like that?! It was an accident, okay? He didn't mean for it to happen, so it doesn't matter! Anyway, it's just a little bit of oil – nothing too big. So why do you need to complain?!''

It's dead quiet now, nobody daring to make any sort of movement or contact or utter out a simple word. ''Neither of you have anything to say to me, yet you would gladly get on a child! You're all grown men, older than eighteen, so stop being childish and act your damn age!''

The bells go off just as I finish yelling, and even after that, nobody moves. Not until our boss tells us all to clear out and keep all of the tools where they are – we'll clean them and finish work later, after the Reaping. Evan stares up at me with his bright green eyes that look pleading. I bring my finger up and wipe the dirty oil from under the bags near his eyes, and then wrap my arm around his shoulder.

''Come on, we need to start heading out.'' Dragging him behind me with my arm around his neck, I bring him with me to the site of where Miles and Gunvor are located, standing there with their helmets in their hands and rag towels thrown over their masculine and feminine shoulders. ''Ready to head out, guys? Nothing forgotten, nothing lost?''

''No...'' Evan answers for everyone, staring down at the ground. I squeeze my arm tighter around his neck, making him look up and stare out at the rest of us. We all begin laughing except for Evan who seems to be sulking over here, but that doesn't stop us all from having our little bit of fun while walking to the Reaping together.

On our way there, I don't spot a single glimpse of my family at all. Mom, Dad, and Laura will be hard to spot because they don't have to get their fingers pricked, while Alfie and Cam are probably already in their sections – and that doesn't make finding them any easier; they're both pretty small, so there's no way I'd be able to see them.

After meaningless conversations, we all finally split when Miles, Evan and I get our fingers pricked, and the two of them head out but soon separate into their age groups. Gunvor walks to the back where all the adults are located, her brown hair blending in well with her tan skin. She does her best to keep on an optimistic face, despite her hatred for the Games and the Capitol. I calmly walk to the seventeen-year-old female section and observe Dallas Marone – District Six's new Escort – take the stage and play the Capitol's video after our Mayor – a strong, wealthy woman – delivers the Treaty of Treason.

''Welcome, District Six!'' He calls out. ''Isn't it exciting to be back? Wonderful, right? Our past few years weren't much of a success, but hopefully we'll get there soon! What do you think?''

Nothing but silence.

''I think you're a little too excited, buddy!'' I shout. Everyone around me begins laughing, but I didn't realize I said it that loud. Honestly, I thought I whispered it, but I guess not. He starts scanning the sections for whoever said it – me – but soon gives up and struts over to the females' bowl.

Forcefully, he dips his hand into the bowl while continuing to hold the microphone in his hand, and as soon as he grabs a slip that feels 'natural' in his hands, he whispers in the microphone, ''I hope you get called up, you little shit- I mean, darling..!'' And with a nervous chuckle, he unfolds the envelope and calls out the female's name.

''Bree Andersson!'' The girls all around me start to give me scared looks, their eyes basically popping out of their sockets. But for me... This is completely different. All of the girls begin moving away, leaving a clear pathway for me to walk out of.

The fear sits on me like a pillow over my mouth and my nose. There's enough oxygen that gets by it, though, allowing my body to keep functioning properly, but it's crippling all the same. My head hesitantly turns to everyone, but I know that nobody is going to save me. From the back, I hear muffled screams that call out ''Sis!'' and ''No, you can't take her!'' Instantly, my family flashes in my mind, leaving me shaking in my clothes.

I begin to walk, talk quietly, and smile like I always do, making sure to keep my calm, but my insides are dying slowly. There isn't an adult I know who can handle this, let alone a child like myself, but every year something like this happens – everyone just prays that it isn't them who gets called on.

When I finally arrive onto the stage, Dallas presses the microphone against his lips and smirks, saying, ''Well, aren't you quiet.'' He continues on. ''How are you feeling, sweetheart? Anything that you'd like to say to your District, in front of the entire Nation, and your family? Anything at all?'' He pushes the microphone right next to my lips.

Although it hasn't left, the fear takes a much tighter grip over me and begins to suffocate my entire body. It's telling my legs to go weak, to collapse and to start crying; for my stomach to lurch and for my heart to ache. Mom and dad always told me that there was nothing to fear but fear itself, but I just can't seem to handle this. And everyone could see it when I spoke with my crackling voice.

''N-N-No... I-I'll d-d-do m-my... b-b-best t-to come b-back...''

''Aw, how cute!'' Dallas walks back and shoves his hand into the males' bowl. Right now, I wish my family were here embracing me, wrapping me around in a hug and keeping me safe and away from all of the world's harm. I wish they were at the factory today; I wish the Reaping never existed; I wish the Hunger Games never existed; I wish the Capitol would just rot, burn, and crumble in flames!

Tears begin blinding my vision and I can feel them welling up in the corner of my eyes – but I make sure not to cry. I can't appear weak in front of the Capitol or the entire Nation. My parents wouldn't want that from me, and neither would my siblings.

''And your male tribute is...'' He holds out the suspense. ''Poet Monroe!''

Like what everyone did with me, a whole circle of guys completely back away and leave a wide opening for the male tribute to be seen. It's as if everyone is a mile away from him, as he just stands there and blinks for a couple of seconds; like he's just letting it all sink into reality, like he doesn't believe his name was called.

''Oh, Poet Monroeeeeee!'' Dallas says it again, this time dragging out the 'e'. Poet just stands there in absolute shock, his eyes staring off into space and his body collapsing on him. The boy's knees begin to give in weight and almost cause him to fall, but he somehow keeps his body up and erect after a few seconds. How he did it, I don't think anybody will ever find out.

His face loses all pigment of color and he's left looking like a ghost white sheet, with the tears guarding his vision. Peacekeepers grow impatient and begin marching towards him with their batons locked, but it's like his feet kick into overdrive and he moves on his own quicker than expected. When he makes it out of the aisle, though, his movement is slow and pitiful. His face is shown to the entirety of Panem, everyone with their gaze locked on him.

The boy silently hyperventilates until he gets up on the stage and is asked if he has anything to say to District Six – his reply is nothing but short-cut breathes that he struggles to hold back. ''You're no fun,'' Dallas complains. ''Anyway,'' he sighs. ''Give it up for another pair of tributes who AREN'T going to win the Games, District Six: Bree Andersson and Poet Monroe!''

There's no response. I know that tensing against the shaking of my limbs is useless but I do it instinctively, trying to suppress for a few more moments what I know I can't. I need to swallow in the silence to counteract the fear that threatens to engulf me completely.

So, I do what I can at this moment and grab Poet's hand. Raising it high up in the air, I bring his body closer to mine and face the District, his body vibrantly shaking.

''District Six!'' I announce, my voice constantly trembling. ''We will f-fight, w-we will r-rise, and we will c-conquer! I will p-p-promise you that Poet and I, with all of our p-power, will do e-everything that we can to a-assure the V-Victory this year. We'll put in the work, effort, and c-compromise properly in order to w-win!''

Closing my mouth now, I breathe heavily but steadily and listen to the silent clapping that I know of as my father's signature clap. The rough but loud, clammy but resonating sound that is always expanded by the joining in of others. And soon, we're standing high and mighty in front of the entire District, like a King and Queen. Like we rule the stage.

Like we're prepared. Even though we know we're not.

Kaster Navelle, 16, District Eleven Male

Looking past the corner, I peer at both of my parents silently arguing. This again. Mom has the patience to deal with Dad, and she's trying to keep her voice down, but it's just plain awkward for me to watch this. Dad is standing his ground, not faltering to anything that she says. Things like this have been going on for so long now that I think I'm used to it – and I am.

''Listen!'' Dad silently shouts, flapping his hands in the air. ''This isn't about us! It's about the kids! Do you think I honestly care about this nonsense? If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here right now, wasting my time with this ignorant argument!''

''I understand that,'' Mom squeezes her forehead with her thumb and index finger, the vein in her forehead twitching. ''I'm trying to reason with you, trying to tell you that arguing all the time isn't good for us or the kids. Do you know how much this would affect Eshlyn if she heard us barking at each other like this?''

''What about Kaster?'' Dad questions. ''What if Kaster overhears? He's older, he would understand more, but it would break him. I get what you're saying, but I truly care for my kids!''

''I do, too!'' Mom loses her temper. ''But I'm positive that Kaster already knows. Do you think he's deaf? He's probably heard us going at each other's throats every day! Imagine how many times he's stayed up in bed, eyes wide open while listening to the both of us dispute..''

''Then can we just stop?'' Dad proposes. ''I'm tired of all this, and I know you are, too! If you weren't so difficult, maybe this would all work out properly.''

''Oh, there you go again!'' Mom screams. ''Always putting the blame on me! Well, if you weren't so inconsiderate, maybe we wouldn't be arguing! If you didn't leave, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess! If you didn't make me go on a search hunt for you and get you into agreeing to take care of our children together, as partners, and act like lovers, then maybe we'd-''

''You know just as much as I do that this isn't about loving! We're both in this because of the kids-''

Cutting in, I turn the corner and begin speaking. ''Hey, Mom, Dad.'' They both instantly stop fighting and turn to face me, forcing on smiles that I know are fake. ''Can I go outside? The Reaping is soon and all, so I want to get there quickly.''

''Absolutely not!'' My mother runs over to me. ''Now, go back inside your room and wait until the bells chime. It's raining heavily out there, can't you see? Just wait for us and we'll let you know when we're going out.''

I turn to my Dad and eye him, but no response comes from his mouth, so I move my head to the side, turn my body, and walk to my room. When I get there, Reese and Isabelle look at me, both of them bouncing up and down. ''So what'd they say?'' Reese asks. ''Can we go out or not?''

''Nah,'' I sigh. ''My mom said that I can't go because it's raining outside.''

Isabelle quickly stops bouncing. ''What, and you're just gonna start listening to what people say?'' I nod. Both her and Reese give me skeptical looks, sharing brief sighs. ''Seriously, Kas? I gave up my breakfast just for a little adrenaline, and you disappoint me with this cra-''

''Psyche!'' I laugh. ''Of course we're going out! When have I ever listened to what anyone's said? Now come on, let's go before they realize that we're gone.''

Opening up my window, I push it forward and let Reese crawl out first, then Isabelle goes out and I soon follow after her, placing my hands on her waist to help her out of the window carefully. Just as she lands safely and I pop my head out of the window, I hear an ''Ahem'' from the background.

''Dammit, Eshlyn!'' I groan. She walks over to me and tugs on my leg, and I kick back at her, but softly so that I can nudge her away. She punches my leg and we both begin to laugh, fighting in good nature. ''Okay, okay, stop, Eshlyn!''

''No!'' She pouts. ''I want to know where you're going.''

''I'm going out... to the Reaping.'' I lie. ''You shouldn't care, okay? It's nothing important, I just want to get there early. You should stay back inside with Mom and Dad so that they can walk you there safely.''

''You're lying to me.''

''You're such a nuisance, you know that?'' I call her out, yanking my leg away from her. Although I called her that, I don't believe it. I'm never able to convince myself that she actually is – and I know she's not.

''Can I come with you guys?''

''To the Reaping? No.''

''I know you're not going there, so stop lying!''

''Leave me alone. I'm not going anywhere special, so just stay here and keep quiet.'' After that, I jump out of my window and close it shut just as she begins running towards it. After that, I rub my hands together and turn towards Reese and Isabelle. ''So, are we ready?''

''You're a lying bastard, Kas!'' She bangs on my window. ''I'm still going out! I don't care what you say, asshole! I'm doing what I want!'' She's picked up so much from me – maybe too much. It's a shame.

They both nod. The icy gray sky restlessly grumbles. The thick, blackened clouds are dragged down by the heavy rain that held in its delicate frame. Soon, the clouds struggle to withstand the burden of the weight that the rain held and gave in. Rain pours down over District Eleven in a roar. Emptiness sounds through the air, but it's soon disrupted by the gregarious boom of thunder. Rain pierces my dark and wet skin as well as Isabelle and Reese's, so our automatic reaction is to start running across the slippery grass.

''Where are we going?'' Reese asks me, and Isabelle gives me a curious look. Turning my head to Reese, I just give him a nod and he begins laughing, while Isabelle grows confused. Turning to her now, I grab her hand and squeeze it tightly, her warmth dissipating as the rain continues to pour. Her posture becomes weakened by the weight of her soaked clothes and she begins to slow down. I wrap my arm around her stomach and waist and pull her closer to me, supporting and pressing her body against mine so that she can keep up.

The quality of darkness shifts in the sky but the rain keeps pouring. As harsh as it is, the rain obliterates the once crystal reflection of the sky and turns it into disorientated chaos. ''Thanks, Kas,'' Isabelle says. ''But seriously, where are we going?''

''To the fields,'' I breathe. ''I overheard Peacekeepers talking about collecting food there, from others, that is. They'll have baskets of bread, apples – which you know I hate – cheese, ham, and so much more! It could help your family out, Isabelle!''

She stays quiet, still pressed up against me. We finally make it there and she begins to speak again. ''Who's leading this time, Reese?''

''No, no, no,'' Reese quickly objects. ''I can't. Let Kas lead, we'll just follow. The thrill and adventure of this is all I'm in for, not leading.'' He looks stressed out, but I know that by now – he can't deal with leadership. Cracking my knuckles, I look up to get a clear picture and there are at least five Peacekeepers there.

''Ready?'' I ask, unable to control my excitement. Isabelle looks kinda sad, but she masks it well with a smile. She nods her head, and when I turn to look at Reese, he's already running – my Partner In Crime is sprinting there, so we jump up and follow, but I quickly get ahead of him. ''Let's go!''

The Peacekeepers hear my voice and turn around quickly, but not quick enough to grab either of us. Isabelle grabs an entire basket and carries it upwards, slamming it into a Peacekeeper's face. Reese grabs multiple plastic bags filled with pounds of food and swings them outwards, hitting two Peacekeepers at once. I, on the other hand, jump right on top of the table and kick a basket of apples out. The Peacekeepers are taken by surprise and I begin to laugh.

One of them grabs an apple and flexes his muscle like he's been in a gym forever, and crushes it with a tight, one-handed squeeze. I instantly stop laughing, but that doesn't remove the smirk on my face. ''Screw you guys!'' I yell at them, and jump off of the table. Starting our engines, but not before I grab two plastic bags just like Reese, we begin to run, and hot on our tails are the Peacekeepers.

They catch up quite quickly, actually, but we all put up fights. I drop to the ground as soon as one of them lays a finger on me, making sure that he ends up face-planting. When I think I'm in for the clear, the muscular Peacekeeper lifts me up with both hands and breathes in my face.

''You're caught. Give up,'' he says. ''It's not worth the waste.'' Struggling, I continue to fight him off. I'm determined to get out of here with all of this valuable food, and I will. Reese and Isabelle both look back and I try to yell, to tell them to run away, but they're quickly caught as well. Still fighting, I elbow the Peacekeeper in the face. ''Are you serious, kid? I thought you were just determined at first, but I realize now that you're just lacking intelligence, because you don't know when you're beat.''

Most people would think that the man has a point, but I just don't care for his opinions. Not holding back, I yell out, ''I hate all of you stupid Peacekeepers! I fucking wish you were all dead!'' My fingers curl tightly into a balled fist, and in my mind, I can imagine the man's neck snapping, my fist smashing into his nose, splattering blood on the dirty grass. Burning rage hisses through my body like deadly poison, screeching a demanding release in the form of wanted violence. It was a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off me like ferocious waves. The wrath consumes me, engulfs my moralities and destroys the boundaries I had.

I attack the Peacekeeper and smash my fists into his face over and over again until he falls; then, my foot collides with his head multiple times, leaving a blood-stained bruise. As soon as that happens, I quickly turn back towards my friends and run towards them, swing the bags at the other Peacekeepers, and begin running away with them.

I could have just left, but I would never do that. The betrayal that I would feel, leaving them to get in trouble... I just couldn't live with myself like that. We're always, partners until the end, and it'll stay like that until the day we all die – even after death, the ones who still live will care for each other. The Reaping Bell rang a while ago, back when we were at the fight, and although the thunder blocked most of it out, I still heard the faint noise.

We arrive at the Square and everyone's already there. Reese and I stare at each other, then he gives me a nod and hurries to get his finger pricked. ''We'll go back for more later.'' Isabelle and I stay back, and I know that she's thinking about volunteering. I quickly grab her shoulders and turn her around to make her face me, the both of us breathing roughly.

''Don't do it, Isabelle. I know you're thinking about it.'' She nods her head, but a tear trickles down her cheek. ''I promise, all you gotta do is support them. Reese and I will be right there to help you through it, along with our families. I promise.''

Isabelle nods her head and I wipe the tear away from her cheek. The both of us just stay in that position for a couple of minutes – until even after the Escort and Mayor have introduced their parts – and lock our gazes into each other's eyes.

What happens next, though, I was completely unprepared for. You'd think that after all the time I'd spent with Isabelle – watching her talk, laugh and frown – that I'd know all there was to know about her lips. But I hadn't imagined how warm they would feel pressed up against mine. ''Thank you, Kas.'' She says, pulling away from me. Quickly, she goes and gets her fingers pricked, and I follow after, thinking about what just happened.

Never before has my name ever felt so wonderful coming out of someone else's mouth.

''Ceres Morrisey!'' Our Escort yells. When I get to my section, a girl walks out of the seventeen-year-old section with her fists clenched and teeth bared. There are tears in her eyes, but she doesn't dare let them fall. Her eyes are blood red, looking as if she just snorted a Ziploc bag full of kush that was delivered by a Xan man. She's either plugged in or angry – I'm going with angry.

But who wouldn't be? When she gets to the stage, the Escort asks her if she'd like to say anything, but she just shakes her head. She looks straight through the crowd, not daring to show any hint of hesitation or emotion. I respect her for that. Now my attention focuses on the Escort. He dips his hand into the males' bowl and quickly rips out an envelope.

''Kaster Navelle!''

Shit! Looking back and forth, I listen to a loud gasp that comes from Isabelle, and I hear Reese pushing through other guys just to get to me. ''KASTER! KASTER, DON'T GO!'' I stand in my same position for far too long so the Peacekeepers begin to march at me. I've gotta get out, without showing hesitation of fear, but it's honestly gripping onto me right now. My feet are just stuck there, as if I'm frozen in place.

Well, until I clench my fists just like Ceres did, and just like that, I break everything off. Unable to contain my anger, I begin to grit my teeth and leave them bare, wide open so that the Capitol sees how furious I am. I get on the stage and keep my eyes locked on the Escort. Behind me, a Victor jumps out of his seat and yells, ''WHOA, THAT KID'S GET ANGER IN HIS EYES!'' I turn to see Conly pouncing excitedly. ''HE'S GONNA DO WELL IN THE GAMES! I CAN SEE IT ALREADY! HE'S GONNA BREAK SHIT! HE'S A STORM TO BE UNLEASHED, TRUST ME! THERE'S SOMETHING IN THAT KID'S EYES, AND IT'S NOT KINDNESS! THERE'S A STORM BREWING!''

You know, I honestly wouldn't be shocked if the Capitol rigged the Reaping. I've been in troubled occasions with Peacekeepers multiple times. They could have had something to do with this. I don't think anybody in the District would be shocked if so, because my actions are ''rebellious.'' They're not; I just voice my opinion, but let them see it the way that they do. They want to get rid of me because they can't contain me, and I'm fine by that. They'll see.

The Escort asks me a question but I completely ignore it. Glancing over at Ceres, my face casts a dead-pan look to as much as I can manage, yet I fail. At the corner of my would-be sombre lips is a crease of amusement – just a small pouting of my lips; the narrowing of my eyes and the tilting of my head. Ceres looks at me as if I was crazy, probably wondering why I'm smirking.

Well, it's funny, I think... how they're trying to kill me. They'll find out just how hard it is, and I'll make sure neither the Peacekeepers or the Capitol get what they so crave for. Bloodthirsty bastards. But it's funny, really...

...How I managed to convince Isabelle – not once, but twice – not to volunteer for the Games freely, but I get chosen to compete.

Oh, life is crazy.

A/N: Ayeeeeeee! So it wasn't that long until another update, right, right? So yeah... Can I just say how much I love all of these tributes? Like, legit, y'all gave me some amazing ass tributes who I can't possibly be any more grateful for. If there was a way, I would be... If I could, I think I'd jump into my computer screen just to interact with all of them – all of the bitches, all of the fuckboys, all of the cuties, the innocents, the vindictive ones... All of them... You guys have some crazy ass thought processes going on through your minds when you make these guys, because they're so interesting and fluid for me. (Did I use fluid in the correct way in that sentence? Let me know, please...) Like, I just get them... I'm adopting them from all of you, okay? Deal with it! :O

So anyway, the weather, right? Am I right or am I right..? ;) For those of you who are new, my A/Ns consist of nothing important. Like, never at all xD So excuse me if you get confused and question me in your mind like, ''Why is this idiot talking about meaningless things? Like, what does you betting on a cat fight have to do with the story?'' Nothing, nothing at all, my dear readers. ;) But you know, gotta keep these A/Ns interesting, right? Maybe, yes, no? Yes? Say yes. Please. (◐ o ◑ ) So I was thinking, right? Like, how do you become famous... Do I need to lip sync and put that ish on YT? Do I have to just be found by a random scout on the streets, while spitting bars?

By the way, speaking of bars, y'all should buy my mixtape. Only $39.99 with killer beats and 50 minutes of me screeching animal noises, ight? It's all good, trust me. And in a couple of years, when I apply for College, I'm gonna send that crap straight to Harvard. Legit, they're gonna love it. I'll also tell them to even consider asking Side Hoe #5 named Marcus to tell them how fire it is. Lmao burn that, fam. So worth it, trust me... Trust me. You just don't understand. I'll be big one of these days because of it... Hopefully xD

So these tributes were interesting, right? Sorta? Yes? Oh, and if anything, guys, please tell me if I'm portraying your tribute wrong. I would hate to be writing a tribute wrong, so PM me or call me out in the reviews and tell me how much of a terrible, bitch ass author I am, okay? Thank you. And excuse any of the mistakes in this chapter. I was trying- key word: trying... to proofread, but I just had my headphones in and was bumping to Rae Sremmurd, so I just... The beats took over me, and... I just... I couldn't, you know? I was so distracted, but it was worth it. Camera lights shine off my shiny belt... Kill the lights, I am on my level... XD Okay, whatever, onto the questions!

What'd you think of the tributes overall this chapter?

Favorite POV?/tribute?

Least favorite POV?/tribute?

Anyway, yeah, short A/N... Don't worry, though. Next chapter I'll be back telling you all about the life story of yours truly, even if you don't wanna hear about it... Yes, you'll get used to it, so it's alright. Trust me, it doesn't take long to adjust to me... Everyone here has threatened to kill me at least once, so you're all good... You're all good xD So I'm gonna go get a suntan... Jk, I don't need one – my skin is dark enough... ಠ_ಠ It's quite upsetting, but whatever! :D Anyway, thanks for reading. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. See you all next time. Bye! ^-^