-Billie West, 16- Seahorse8-

Mirabel shakes me awake that morning. I roll over and look at the clock. 9:42, it says.

I take in a breath and sigh, rolling over tiredly. I really don't want to wake up. Mirabel shakes me again, more forcefully this time. My eyes open up tiredly, looking at my sister and silently begging her to let me sleep some more. "Reapings," she says. I sigh again and get out of bed, yawning.

My curly hair poofs out when I sit up, sticking all over the place as is typical for it. I get up out of bed and Mirabel, satisfied at having me awakened, goes back to her room. This is her last reaping, lucky her. I can't help but feel bitter that she's going to be done with them while I still have to wait three years before I'm safe.

I get out of bed, going to our tiny, single bathroom (if you would call it that) to get ready for the day. I stare at myself in the mirror and immediately find all my imperfections. My hair is huge, too huge, my stature is too small, cheeks too rosy, hair too huge and everywhere. I can't help but think that if I didn't live in this shithole maybe I'd actually cause people to look my way.

It's hard enough knowing that nobody puts effort into communicating with you just because you're deaf. I can still read lips and speak well, considering that I was able to learn to talk and learn words all the way back when I was a kid. I could communicate, but nobody puts in the effort to start conversations with me.

I put on a simple dress for the reaping and run a comb through my hair, trying to at least control it. Even when I'm done I'm not satisfied but I know I need to go out for breakfast. I go out to the kitchen, and see my parents there. I almost never see my parents, so it's a surprise.

My parents do care about Mirabel and I, sure, but they're not usually around and spend a lot of time working, leaving the two of us to provide for ourselves. I really don't mind it, Mirabel and I usually get along pretty well and she's a good influence on me.

"Good morning," Mom says. This conversation is pretty predictable, really, and I say, "Good morning."

I take a small croissant for breakfast, having some butter for it as a special I-could-be-sent-away-in-a-fight-to-the-death treat. It's really nothing special or great, and I make sure my other three family members know it: "This is so bland and barely even a treat at all," I say. My parents exchange a look.

"Billie," Mirabel scolds, giving me a look. She's more of a mother to me than my actual mother is, even though she's only two years older than me.

"Well, it's true," I say, shrugging. I can't help but say what I think, whether or not anyone is listening, which they're usually not. "Whoopie, tasteless, bland butter against this horribly bleak piece of bread."

"Stop saying that," Mirabel says, "At least we have something to eat, which is better than many people in this District."

I shrug. "Just because their lives suck slightly more than ours doesn't mean our lives still don't suck."

Mirabel gives me a look that's slightly cold, in scolding, and I shrug at her again. People have said I'm pessimistic, but I'm really just being honest. Life sucks around here, so why pretend it doesn't?

I finish my bland, barely-breakfast breakfast and say, "I'm leaving!" as I go out the door. My sister and I argue a lot, but in the end we're always there for each other. We're all the other has, basically. We've had to figure out life for ourselves because it's not like our parents had any kind of help in figuring it out.

Sometimes I get really bitter, but I just can't help it. Why do so many people have it so much better just because of how they ended up? Why do Capitolites not have to fight for their status like we do in the Districts? Why am I stuck here in this hellhole when I have the skill and imagination to work my way up to the top? It's so not fair, and what can we do about it? That's right, absolutely nothing at all.

I exit the house, going to meet my best friends before it's time for the reaping at 10:30.

The weather is calm and relaxing, totally the opposite weather than you'd expect for the reaping. You'd want it to be dark, stormy, raining, miserable, but it's really not miserable. I sigh a little bit, coughing a bit from all the smog. Being the District of transportation, we're also one of the most polluted District in all of Panem. I hate it here. Even when it's nice, it's still horribly smoggy and depressing. What a nice place to be all the fucking time.

I see Blossom first and go over to her. She waves to me. "Hi Billie!" she says. She's pretty predictable and easy to read too.

"Hey," I say. I have no idea what I sound like, honestly. My hearing was completely gone by the time I was 10, so I didn't really get to experience puberty and how it changed my voice.

Ever since I lost my hearing, people have said I've developed a kind of accent and a special way of talking. So basically people can tell I'm deaf by how I talk. I've tried to figure out what it is, straining to remember back to the times when I could at least hear out of one ear. Back to when I learned how to talk and what it sounded like, what it felt like… Eventually, I just… Gave up. Accepted the fact that nobody's going to make an effort for me and that life just all-around sucks ass.

"What's up? Are you scared for the reaping?" her eyes have a little bit of fear in them, wide.

"Well I'm not exactly excited," I tell her, sighing a bit. Blossom really is a friend, and no matter what I still care about her a lot. She was named for a flower, a plant, all-natural, in hopes that maybe she would experience happiness here in this smoggy, polluted place. I sit on a bench with her by the square, watching them prepare for the reaping as Lucie approaches, running over energetically. I break into a smile, waving to her as she says, "Hey!"

"Hi!" I say, smiling. Blossom smiles too.

Lucie is my best friend, has been since we could first toddle. She'd been there for me as I lost my hearing, and was there the day I finally had to admit it was gone, and that I would never hear again. She was there when I was forced out of denial, and collapses, sobbing and not being able to hear myself crying and yelling. She's been there ever since, helping me to get better at lip reading by saying the most insane words and helping me learn how to read their sounds. And, of course, she's been there with me through every single absolutely insane and crazy plot, scheme, and idea.

Lucie gives me a hug and I hug her back. "So, are you ready for our next…" she smiles deviously, "Idea?"

I laugh. "Yeah, for sure. Did you get the supplies?"

She beams, "Yup, it's all waiting at home." Hey, Lucie and I are so bored here, we have to entertain ourselves somehow. Around my friends, I smile a lot more than usual.

"Hopefully it'll work. I mean, there are a lot of things that could go wrong…"

"Don't worry, Billie." Lucie puts a hand on my shoulder. "We've planned this out to a T. No need to be so pessimistic."

"Alright…" It's hard for me to not focus on what might go wrong, though.

"Are you guys really sure this is a good idea?" Blossom says.

"Of course," grins Lucie. "You can't back out now."

"Right…" she nods. "You're right!" Blossom is always along for the ride when it comes to stuff like this, but she's a pretty good help.

"Let's just get through the… Reapings first." I hate that word, reaping. Sending tributes off to their deaths… Teens. I usually try to avoid thinking about how much the Capitol pisses me off, but on days like this it's hard to think about anything but the hell the Capitol's put us all through.

We notice that people are starting to go to the Square for the reapings, so we go together.

We get our blood taken, and together we walk to the 16-year-old girls section. I look over at the boy's side, noticing how some of them really clean up nicely for the reaping. I look for any boys that might be cute before remembering that even if I find one, he'd barely even look my way. I'm not particularly impressive, especially because I'm deaf.

Lucie takes my hand for support and squeezes it as the reaping begins. The mayor stands on the podium, and his lips move as he's talking but I have no idea what about. I just hold onto Lucie's hand. The video plays, with all the familiar scenes playing, and then the escort takes the stage.

Demetria Dawn is a young woman that started escorting when I was 14 and the old escort retired. Her arms are covered in tattoos, and her hair is black and white, in order to represent a racing flag, according to Lucie, with part of a tire on the white half of her hair like an accessory. It's nice to know that all our hard work here goes to the Capitol's wasteful entertainment. Just like the Games.

The camera shows a close-up of Demetria's makeup-covered face, and I can actually read her lips as she reaches into the glass bowl, saying, "Our young lady will be drawn first!"

She picks a piece of paper out of the bowl, walks to the microphone, and reads it. I read her lips on the big screen as she says, "Billie West!"

I stop, in shock. Lucie grabs onto my hand tighter. I realize that I've just been reaped. I swallow hard, letting go of her hand and starting on my way to the stage. Fear and doubt start to creep in, and the realization that I'm going into the Games, I could quite possibly be dead.

I refuse to look weak, I tell myself, starting up through the 17-year-olds. When I go through the 18-year-olds, and see Mirabel's face, tears rolling down her cheeks, I start to cry. By the time I make myself go up the steps, I'm sobbing, probably making vocal noises as I cry. I can't help it, I feel afraid, angry, sad… I'll be leaving my family and my home.

Demetria smiles, but she has a look in her eyes of disgust, which makes me feel even more angry and upset, trying to control my tears as she picks the boy. I don't hear the name, nor do I care enough at this point to read her lips.

He steps out from the 15-year-olds section, everyone watching him, making his way up to the stage without showing any kind of emotion at all. He has dark skin and wavy black hair, making his way up the steps looking determined. I curse myself for crying, straightening up my posture and trying to not look desperate. He smiles when he gets up to the stage, and I know that even though he's a year younger than me, the District and Capitol are going to take to him better.

I don't listen to what Demetria says, and just shake his hand when he holds it out to me and we go to the Justice Building together.

-Amari Cooper, 15- Jalen Kun-

My father flips on the lights and rips the covers off of me as a good morning. Then again, he knows damn well that I'd probably sleep until noon if he didn't.

I'm usually pretty good at getting myself up on time for school, but today's not a school day. My body clock woke me up earlier at six o'clock in the morning, but I realized that there is no school today and immediately went right back to sleep.

My father's now waking me up so I have plenty of time to get ready and go out to see my friends before the reaping. It's so nice to have him home the thoughts of what's to come don't affect me too much, as I tell him good morning and get out of bed.

My Dad's had to work pretty hard lately to keep food on the table and keep our decent, middle-class standard of living, but I appreciate him and all that he does so much. I mean, I love my mother, really, don't get me wrong, but she's so damn strict I feel like I have to be a perfect son to make her happy with me and keep her from blowing up, which is really scary.

I hate the thought that I always have to be perfect. It's the only thing that consumes my mind when I'm by myself. Which is why I really would prefer to not be on my own. I wish I could break free, fly away from the shackles that keep me in this District, and be something great. Unfortunately, there's absolutely no way for me to break free, considering that right now the most I can be is a 15-year-old boy from District 6. Well, at least I can build up my social status.

I comb my dark hair away from my face in its usual style, thankful that it's not really high-maintenance because I definitely wouldn't want to have to spend a lot of time on it. But, really, what teenage boy would want to spend a lot of time with his hair in the morning when he could be sleeping?

I put on a nice shirt and slacks for the reaping, going to the small kitchen/sitting room for breakfast. I have a modest little breakfast of bread and some actual jam, which tastes pretty good. I'd say it's a pretty nice reaping day treat.

I love to see my father home, and my mother likes it too, though her face is set in that default scowl she always has that makes me feel constantly inadequate. I eat with my parents, my Dad teasing me about the girls I talk to before my mother changes the conversation away from "something so petty" and back to the reaping.

"Don't worry, Mom, I'll be just fine," I reassure her, sitting with posture and using good manners to please her. I wouldn't want her to be mad with me. Sometimes I'm not sure how my mother and father even started dating, all the way back. She's very no-nonsense, and my father is a jokester like I am.

"You say that now," she says.

"There are plenty of kids with more slips in there than me." I feel bad saying it but know that it's true.

"You have to be ready for the worst," she says.

"Of course," I say, wanting to please her. The last thing I want is for her to be upset with me.

I check the time and know I need to get moving if I want to catch up with my friends before the start of the reaping. I hug my father and he kisses the top of my head before teasingly ruffling my hair, causing me to laugh. I hug my mother as well, who fixes my hair and gives me one last gentle look before I put my shoes on and head out the door.

I smile at the people I walk past, trying to do anything I can to raise the mood even if the day is so dreary and the impending reaping scares everyone. I know that after the reaping the mood will be ten times more somber, but for now I feel pretty okay spreading smiles. My Dad is home from work for once, and I got to sleep in, and had some jam for breakfast… Right now I'm in a pretty good mood.

I see a couple girls in my year and go over to them. "Hey!" I greet, they all exchange a look.

"Hi," says the prettier one with green eyes and dark hair.

"What're your names? I'm Amari." I let my carefree, confident posture pull the familiar, confident smirk on my lips.

They both introduce themselves.

"Are you flirting with us?" the other one asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," I say, causing the prettier of the two to giggle.

Suddenly a hand claps on my shoulder.

"Ey, Amari!" I look over and see my best friend Kyle there, his gray eyes alight with a smile.

"Hey," I say, turning back to the girls. "This is my best friend Kyle." I introduce him to the girls, who are still blushing slightly and laughing.

"Nice to meet you," Kyle says, with a smile that even I can't help but gaze at. Kyle really is an attractive dude. And sometimes I can barely look at him without remembering that one evening we spent together, in complete experimentation. Maybe if he wasn't my best friend (practically a brother), we would've actually pursued something after that. I mean, he's a really good kisser. But, we decided to leave it as friends.

Which I guess I don't really mind either. It leaves me open to charming boys and girls alike. And, of course, reaping the benefits of being well-liked. I tell the girls that they should look for us at school before Kyle and I leave them giggling and blushing, high-fiving on the way.

Suddenly, I see someone else approaching.

"Hey! Amari!" he's holding a piece of paper. "You said you needed to see this?" he hands me a copy of last night's mechanics homework.

"Oh, yeah, totally. Man, I was really struggling. Thanks for this, Soren, really, you're the best." I smile at him and his eyes light up. Oh, Soren. One of the few boys I know in the District who swing both ways like Kyle and myself, and I ask him for homework help because sometimes I just don't feel like doing it. I work awful hard to be liked and sometimes I just have to reap the rewards from it. Besides, helping me out makes him smile. I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt somebody. It's just the little favors that I have people do for me, really, that's all.

"Any time, Amari," he says, his sweet brown eyes sparkling. Yes, it's nice to be liked.

"I'll see you in school?" I say, folding the paper up and putting it in my pants pocket.

"Oh, yes, of course! I'll see you then!" He runs off, probably to go find some of the other, uh, less popular and well-liked people he knows.

I walk with Kyle until we find Lydia, my other best friend, just as she's separating from her boyfriend with a sexy smile and wave.

"Hey guys," she says, waving. She's another of the more desirable people I know. I give her a nice tight hug in greeting, and she laughs, "Not trying to steal me away from him, are you?" We always go through this.

I shrug. "You're a beautiful girl, really." I grin at her and she giggles.

Together, the three of us sit and relax a bit before the reapings, bored and with nothing better to do.

"Look at that guy," she says, pointing to some guy who walks with a girl.

"She's way too good for him," Kyle observes. "He's a creep."

"Why don't you try?" I tease him, laughing. I find it easier to flirt, he sometimes needs help from a wingman.

He flicks me, "Shut up, Shorty."

"Don't call me that!" I say indignantly. I hate when he reminds me that he's taller than me. Hopefully I'm not done growing yet.

"Look over there," Lydia says, changing the subject to prevent a fight. "Look at those girls." She gestures to a group of three girls talking, their eyes alight with the happiness of being together.

"Look at the small one," I comment, making a poofing motion above my head to represent her huge curly hair. The other two laugh, making "poof!" sound effects as they mock her hair. Lydia's hair is curly, too, but it's much more tasteful on her than it is on that girl. It's really not meant to be mean, really it isn't. We're just bored.

Suddenly, the group of girls leaves, and I realize that it's almost reaping time. "Come on," I say, "We should get to the reapings." Together we walk there, Kyle cracking jokes as we go and all of us discussing the escort's horrible fashion taste.

We get checked in and say goodbye to Lydia before going to the section roped off for the 15-year-old boys. Together we stand and wait as I say hello to the groups of people around me and wishing them good luck. Kyle keeps smiling as the mayor makes his speech, mocking the way he constantly runs a hand across his horribly ugly comb-over. Then, the video.

Ugh, the stupid video! It takes forever and the acting on it is absolutely horrible. Someone dramatically flops over and Kyle laughs. I elbow him for laughing, because this is supposed to be serious, but it really is funny.

After that, Demetria Dawn steps on the stage, her half-black, half-white hair making her look like a fucking clown. She has so much make-up on Kyle whispers to me that she must have drowned to death in it, and I laugh.

Her dress is red and covers her very obvious high heels that she can barely even walk in. She picks the girl's name first. "Billie West!"

I watch the girls' section to see if she's hot, and am surprised to find that the girl walking to the stage is the girl whose hair goes poof! Kyle bumps me on the shoulder and makes the poofing motion again, laughing, causing me to smile. What a coincidence.

Then, Demetria goes over and picks the boy's name. She clears her throat and reads, "Amari Cooper!"

Suddenly, my smile fades. My heart sinks. Everything starts to fall apart as I realize that I was just reaped for the Games, and will have to go into a fight to the death… My throat tightens as I walk to the stage, feeling every eye in the entire District, the entire nation on me, including my family and friends. I love having attention, but… Not like this.

I go slowly, not letting myself show any kind of emotion. I go up the steps and once I arrive on the stage, I force a smile, trying to make it look convincing.

"Oh, very nice! Shake hands now, you two!" I shake Poofy girl's hand, and we're escorted into the Justice Building.

My parents are the first to visit me. I don't see either of them cry, which is fairly unexpected. They hug me tightly, not knowing what to say to me at all.

"I'm going to make it back," I say, my heart breaking at the emptiness of the promise. "I promise you that I'm going to make it back here, I'll come home…" I hug them tightly and they hug me.

"Please…" Mom says, quietly, "We need you home."

"We need you back," Dad says, tightening his hug.

I don't know how long it is that we stay hugging, but too soon they're escorted out by Peacekeepers, shouting a last "We love you!"

"I love you too!" I call after them.

Lydia and Kyle come in next. Lydia is absolutely sobbing. Kyle looks shaken up, too, tears dotting his eyes.

"Oh Amari!" Lydia says, hugging me tightly and sobbing into my neck. I hug her back, fighting off the urge to cry.

"Sh…" I say, hugging her, "Don't worry."

I hug Kyle next as Lydia collapses on a chair, sobbing. I let him go and we all sit down.

"I'm going to make it back," I tell them, biting my lip as I don't believe it. "Really."

"You h-have to!" Lydia sobs into her hands.

"I know." I have to think fast, have to find a way to put the smiles on their faces. I don't think I can take watching them cry much longer without breaking down myself.

"Hey, don't worry," I say. They both look up before Lydia buries her face in her hands again, sobbing quietly. "My beautiful best friends," I dramatically fall to my knees on my floor. "The loves of my life! Oh, how I love you so, oh how I couldn't live without your beauty and your grace!"

They look up, so I increase the comedic level of flirting. "I would die if you didn't love me back! Please, I'm in agony, never let me go, kiss me and tell me it's going to be okay!" Kyle breaks into a small smile. Lydia's tears quiet a little bit.

"Did it hurt when you guys fell from Heaven?" I ask. They both groan at the horrible pick-up line. I smile, trying to make myself laugh and trying to do anything to make them smile again.

"I must be a snowflake, because I've totally fallen for you." I make myself flash them a typical Amari grin, trying to lift their spirits before I break down and make it all worse.

"Shut up," Lydia sniffles. Kyle smiles a bit, but it eventually fades again.

"30 seconds!" warns a Peacekeeper, and I take my friends into one last tight hug.

"You have to get home," Lydia says, sniffling.

"We'll never forgive you if you don't make it back," Kyle says.

I nod. "Understood." There's a slight pause. "Hey, guys, I love you. Thanks for being my awesome friends."

"We love you too," Kyle says, and Lydia nods, reaching up to wipe her eyes again.

The Peacekeepers escort them out, and I have to sit there and do nothing but watch them leave.

I was never meant to be reaped… I never wanted to be thrown into this horrible fight to the death! Now, the entire nation is going to be watching my every move, from reaping to train ride to chariots, and judging me every step of the way. However, that doesn't mean I can give up. I have to keep fighting until the very end, for my friends and family. I'm my parents' only son, and I hold together our friend group, not to mention how well-liked I am.

Poofy Hair and I are escorted to the train, and I suddenly realize that I'm officially a tribute in the Hunger Games.

-Billie-

My parents come in first. I get hugs from each of them.

My mother is crying as she hugs me, I feel her breath against my ear as if she's whispering to me, forgetting that I can't hear her and will never know what she's saying unless I see her lips making the words.

"Mom, I can't hear you," I say, my voice probably sounding as angry and upset as I feel. "I can't hear you unless I can see you."

She lets go of me, wiping her teary eyes. "Oh, sorry Billie. You've managed it so well sometimes I forget." Also the fact that since I lost my hearing you've never been here, I think, and my lips go down into a scowl.

"You can win," Dad says, giving me a brief, awkward hug. "You can do it. Really," he says after letting go. I nod a little bit, not ready to let them in on my doubt after they've spent so time away from Mirabel and I.

"I love you," Mom says, and Dad echoes her.

"Yeah, I love you too," I say, but I'm pretty sure they can tell how empty the words are. They leave before the Peacekeepers even escort them out.

Mirabel comes in next, giving me a big, tight hug. She's crying pretty bad, and when I look into her glassy eyes, more tears start to form.

"I'm so sorry Billie…" she says, and I shake my head.

"It's okay," I say quietly, trying to reassure her but not getting very far. I wish I had faith in myself, but I don't. "I really wouldn't have wanted you to volunteer," I reassure her. She nods a little bit, more tears rolling down her cheeks.

I hug her again, tightly, and savor the feeling of her warm embrace, promising that I'm going to get home to her somehow but knowing that the words are empty.

"I love you so much," she says, and I know she means it.

"Thank you for all you've done for me," I tell her. "I love you too." She's escorted out by men in white.

The last to visit is Lucie. Her face is red and blotchy, covered in tears, as she buries her face in her hands. I give my best friend and big hug and she buries her face in in my neck, her body shaking with her tears.

We let go, and I try to stop my own tears, knowing that they're not helping.

"Blossom was a mess when I left her," Lucie whispers, "She didn't want us to see her like that…" I nod understandingly.

"It's fine. Tell her I love her," I say.

"I love you so much, Billie… Please, you need to make it back home."

I nod a little bit. "I'm going to do my very best." It's the only truth I can tell. My best may be good enough, but it also may be a failure. We stay in each other's arms, crying, until she's pulled away by a Peacekeeper.

I watch her go and know that from here, things only have the potential to become much worse.

A/N: 100 REVIEWS! THANK YOU SO MUCH! It really gives me motivation to keep writing.

Wow, we're officially halfway done with reapings! This is getting exhausting and miserable, but oh well. Man, Amari reminds me of a mini-Diesel, to be honest. I dunno, maybe it's just me.

I've been updating my blog for SYOT stuff (so far just for this story) called celtic- syot- shenanigans . blogspot . com ! I've been putting up escorts and mentors so far. I'm still working out formatting stuff because I'm really new to blogspot, but I think so far it's not too bad!

ALSO, my good friend Wetstar just started a partial SYOT called Magnets: The 44th Hunger Games, and is in need of tributes! Even though your tribute will definitely die, Jess is a GREAT writer and your tribute will be well-loved! PLEASE go check it out and send them lots of love and tributes!

I think that's all I've got so far!

Chapter Question: Changing it up! Now that I'm halfway done with reapings, which out of all the tributes are the standouts for you and why?

Thanks to my D6 submitters, let me know how I did with your tributes!

SCORES:

AbbyCorabby123: 10

A-Bookworm-Named-Steph: 36

Beauty. Is. Strange: 61

Blonde4ever: 62

calebbeers21: 6

Coolgal02: 61

CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean: 51

Dreamer: 317

dreams and desperation: 76

elisa. anya: 5

Emrys Holmes: 86

epictomguy: 24

fat necrosis: 42

falyn. oliver: 43

FlawlessCatastrophe: 12

xGred-Forgex: 31

GryffindorOnFire: 9

hopefuldreamer1991: 214

Ibbonray: 35

Jalen Kun: 12

Jess: 381

Josephm611: 72

Kate: 243

Xx-Katerina-xX: 56

Kyoko Rose: 26

Lady Lysa Arryn: 97

LokiThisIsMadness: 61

magicharity: 163

Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60

Music Rules The World: 4

Mystical Pine Forest: 30

nevergone4ever: 2

xxPeppermintxx109: 71

Programming: 7

xQueen-of-Applesx: 40

rising-balloons: 75

Red Roses (Guest): 5

Rosemarie Benson: 12

santiago. poncini20: 66

Seahorse8: 17

seaotter99: 22

Shaunaicecream (Guest): 20

Sinfonian Legend: 355

superneet1214: 6

Skyflapple: 21

ThisWorldWeHate: 17

TyeTheLurker (Guest): 5

We're All Okay: 61

W. R. Winters: 76