(A/N): Hey everyone! Streak here with District 3 (this is the part where you groan and say "Finally! What took you so long?")! I'm sorry it took so long, I just had a lot of things going on in my life… and I update slowly. Agh, sorry Dx

Thanks to Goddess of Prophecy and TheBlanc for Leslie and Cerc!

Note: This chapter is pretty much what makes this fanfic T, other than swearing and the fact that this is the Hunger Games xD Actually, I don't think it's too graphic or whatever- it didn't scare me as much.

District Three Female: Leslie West

It had been a good day. The rest of my family was tired, and relaxing on the couch. My twin brother, Christian, had been being annoying, so I had taken refuge from him behind the couch where he wouldn't find me. It had gotten late and we were getting sleepy. Just as my parents and brother had fallen asleep on the couch, I began to creep out of my hiding spot. But then, I heard a noise. A strange noise. It sounded like a lock being turned… Afraid, I hid beneath a green woolen blanket and retreated back into my safe haven. I heard footsteps entering the room. As I shrunk even more under her blanket, I closed my eyes- I didn't want to see what was to come. As she crouched down behind the couch, unable to see anything, I heard maniacal laughter and several terrified screams. I forced my eyes open at the screams, and peered out from behind the couch. It was my mother. She saw me there and softly shook her head, as a warning to not come out from behind that couch. Just as the laughing figure brought down his butcher knife down on her head, her eyes connected with mine. "I love you." she mouthed, and then she was gone. Crying silently, I stuffed my head back under the blanket as the killer continued his work on my family, accompanied by sounds of tearing and rending. When all I heard was silence, I timidly crept out from behind the couch. I saw nothing on the floor, to my surprise. But then, a wet droplet of red landed on my arm. Stunned, I looked up to find a horror waiting for me… my family was strewn all over the ceiling, their bodies practically unrecognizable with various organs and limbs hanging down from the ceiling, held up only with packing tape. Their skin was peeled back, revealing muscle and bone. Their eyes were the worst part. They were taken out of the bodies and hung over the door by the nerves, knives protruding out of the corneas. I screamed, a raw, terrified, animalistic sound.

I startled awake in my bed in a cold sweat, the echo of a scream still on my lips. It had been ten years since that event, but it still haunted me. Alone, I had moved out of the home after my family had been butchered by a serial killer. The killer had to leave me alone, to bear the weight of living. Often, I wished that I could just die. I had attempted suicide several times, but it never worked out- I always ended up hopeless and still alive. I felt empty, just as I had ever since that one night. I still woke up often, screaming from nightmares and things I couldn't see. I looked at the calendar across the room and realized that it was Reaping day. I groaned and fell out of bed. Then I had the ultimate realization- if I volunteer for the Hunger Games I could finally die. I smiled sadly and stood up. I walked to the closet, deciding I wanted to at least look presentable. To honor my family. I rifled through my closet for a moment, then pulled out a nice-looking long sky-blue skirt and cream blouse. I then grabbed a black lacy sweater and threw it on over the blouse, remembering to stick my electronic kit inside one of the pockets. I needed to have them for my job after the Reaping, fixing the District's technology that had malfunctioned before it could be delivered to the Capitol. Looking down at my hands, I wondered if I should apply nail polish. No, the ring is enough. I took off my silver ring, the most precious thing that I had left. I headed out the door, letting it slam as my footsteps echoed off of the cobble-lined street that leads to the square.

As I reached the square, I filed into the 16-year-old girls' line and waited, tapping my foot even more anxiously with each passing minute. Annoyed, I think: When will this be over? I have to get working soon. I know that I will have to work longer than usual to fill the time used up by the Reaping. Just because everyone gets a holiday today doesn't mean that the work isn't there. In my mind, it's just an extra day of work added on, so that we will have even more duties than usual tomorrow. What's the point of that? Better to come into work and finish everything instead. It's not like I have anything else in my life, anyways.

I broke out of my thoughts as the escort self-consciously tugged at her wire-covered dress. Oh, it's a new one, I thought as the escort ambled over to the Reaping bowls. Well, I can't say I miss the last escort. She was a self-centered old bat. I fall into a trance, only half-awake as the escort fumbled around in the girls' bowl for a name, before pulling out the slip of the female supposedly destined to become one of this year's ill-fated tributes. As she unfolded the paper slip, I grew a tiny bit more anxious. It's not nerves, though- the escort is taking forever. When she finally scanned the slip, I breathed a sigh of relief. No way it could be me, I haven't taken any tesserae. Why would I need to? My family… they're dead. I could starve to death, for all I care. Nothing here seems right without them. As if in a dream, I heard the tribute girl's name faintly being called by the escort. It's not me- it's the mayor's thirteen-year-old daughter. A rush of pity goes through me. That girl has a life ahead of her. People who need her. But me? I have nothing left to live for. I glanced at the girl, noticing the salty tears inching their way down her cheeks. I smile faintly at her, before raising my hand. "I volunteer as tribute." I walked through the crowd, past the lines of relieved-looking girls who know they won't die in the arena this year. As I climb the metal steps leading to the platform, I take one last look towards the girl and her family. Through her tears, she smiles at me gratefully before turning away. Focused on my goal, I swivel my head back around as I reach the escort. "And the lucky lady's name is?" She asks, not unkindly. I look out at the crowd, knowing this will be the last time I see my district. I can finally die. "Leslie West." I answer her, taking off my silver ring and enclosing it in my hands.

Almost mechanically, I began to rub my fingers over my brother's initials, then in turn rubbed my own. I will see you soon.

District Three Male: Cerc Lau

I slowly blinked open my eyes to bright sunlight filtering in through the curtains by my bed. Suddenly throwing off the covers, I jerk upright. I remember now-it's reaping day. I glance around my room- a bed, dresser, and lots of computers scattered around, waiting for me to fix them. Cheerfully, I hop out of bed and blink the sleep out of my almond-shaped eyes. It's my last year, and there's no way that I'm going to be reaped. I almost skip to the dresser, yanking out my favorite clothes- a white t-shirt and black jeans- and putting them on as I halfheartedly pull a comb through my wavy black hair. I then head out of my room to the kitchen. As I enter the room and begin brewing coffee, my older sister Data looks up from her toast and magazines, giving me a little wave. "Hey, Data." I say cheerfully, almost excited for Reaping Day. I then walk around the table, greeting my other sisters, who are only interested in their waffles. I guess they never liked me much, because I was a boy. I was told they were hoping for another sister by my mother, Alka. However, I wouldn't let that get me down. I practically waltzed through the kitchen, pouring coffee for my mother as I sat down with my mug and a plate of scrambled eggs. Halfway through my breakfast, I started wondering- What if I was reaped? However, I stuck the thought in the back of my mind. It was my last year- what was there to worry about? The odds of my getting picked were almost zero- there were at least 100 other teenagers in District Three. I relaxed, and finished my eggs in relative peace (aside from my sisters bickering about the latest computer model that they were going to get from the electronics store today). As I headed out the door, I practically skipped down the cobblestones in excitement.

As Leslie West speaks her name into the microphone, I stare into her eyes, They are the eyes of someone who has nothing left to live for. I look away, not wanting to be caught staring. That would be awkward. I space out as the escort puts her hand into the boy's reaping bowl, just wanting this ceremony to be over already. As I come back to reality, I can just hear the escort finish saying the unlucky boy's name… "-au." I snap back to attention. Did she say "Lau"? I think in horror and surprise. I think she said Lau! Looking around to see if anyone is climbing up the steps, my heart sinks. I see nobody. Well, then. Better take the plunge and just go for it. Sighing resignedly, I make my way up the steps to the escort, where I say my name into the microphone and retreat. I close my eyes after the escort introduces us to the crowd, just wanting to get through with this. I mean, I'm surprised, but not that surprised. Oh well, I think as I step into the meeting room for the families to say goodbye to their loved ones. As soon as I sit down in a velvety armchair, my older sister Data comes bursting in. "Oh, Circuit!" she says as soon as she catches sight of my face. She's one of the only ones who can truly read my expressions. I try to keep my emotions bottled up inside of me, so that they don't interfere with my actions, but some people just have the ability to see through my blank mask of an expression. Data hands me a rosary. "It's from Mom," she tells me as tears glimmer at the corner of her eyes, "They would only let one of us in." I look at her face. Softly, I say,"It's okay to cry, you know." And cry she does. Tears stream down her face as she buries her face into my shoulder, letting all her regrets at the unfairness of this world come gushing out. We stay like that for a long time, until the security guards force her to leave. As she is practically dragged out the door, she takes one long look at me. "Win for me," she mouths. "I believe in you."