Reviews make me so happy, but for once I have a legitimate need for you to review. In each chapter, I am going to introduce four new characters and you have to vote one of them dead. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

The ride was tiring, but it did give me an opportunity to get to know my opponents. Dianna was in the seat to my right and Ty was in the seat in front of her, but in front of me and next to Ty was the boy from District Nine.

He was an awkward sort of bloke, average height and a little on the skinny side, particularly when sitting next to Ty's broad shoulders. He wasn't the most confident kid on the bus but nor was he the biggest underdog, but instead he was a completely unremarkable middleman. He had messy brown hair that was too short to stay out of his eyes but too long to tuck behind his ears, so he was constantly brushing it out of his brown eyes.

He tried to make conversation with the one in front of him first, who ended up being a Career from District Four, so he was shot down immediately. He sat quietly, his face red at his failed attempt to make friends, and he fiddled with his fingers. After a few minutes, he glanced around, ready to try to socialize again and his eyes fell on me.

"Uh, hi," he said, waving at me. He smiled but it was a shy, guarded smile as though he was worried I would be as rude as the Career from Four, but I just smiled back.

"Hi, I'm Rosa," I said, reaching out my hand to shake his. He looked surprised at my kindness and I noticed that Ty did, too.

"I know. I'm Thomas." He broke eye contact shyly and shookaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Thomas," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. The only thing going through my head, though, was that in a few weeks this kid would be dead. It made me feel unsettled, as though I was talking to a ghost. "You're from Nine, right?"

"Yeah," Thomas said, looking up again as though he was surprised I remembered him. "My Dad's a farmer from there, and Mom died in the war."

"Really?" Dianna stepped into the conversation. "My parents died in the most recent war, too."

"Yeah... sucks, doesn't it?" Thomas asked, fidgeting a little in his seat.

"So," I said. "Does that mean you're good with a hoe, Thomas?" Ty snickered and I shot him a glare, and Thomas turned bright red. I really should think about what I'm saying more...

"Like, spades and stuff? For a weapon?" Thomas clarified, looking incredibly embarrassed. "I suppose."

We went by the government buildings and just continued talking, never looking outside the bus. It was like our own form of rebellion, a peaceful rebellion until we died. I could see it was grating on the Capitol woman's nerves, but I didn't really care.

It turned out that Thomas was the oldest of seven, and he was eighteen, the youngest was fourteen, and his mother had died five years ago. He had helped his dad along with his two seventeen year old brothers, who were twins, and between the four of them they managed to put the younger four children through school. When they were at their poorest, he rescued a tiny puppy from a ditch even though they didn't have money to pay for it, and gave it to his little sister to take care of just so that she would smile.

He said that his youngest brother, who was fifteen, had been reaped, and he had volunteered to take his place.

"He's smart, he's got a bright future," Thomas said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "More than me, I'm just going to farm... or I was... he could be a doctor or anything he wants to."

"I understand sacrificing yourself for your little brother," I said quietly, putting my hand on his arm.

He nodded, but he didn't talk anymore. He swallowed roughly, trying to keep pent up emotions inside, and I couldn't help but feel horrible for him.

I realized I wasn't the only one here fighting for their family.

President Snow's granddaughter met us when the bus rolled to a stop, and we filed out of the vehicle one by one. She introduced herself as Layla Snow, and she had a younger face than I had imagined. She was in her thirties now, but she hardly looked much older than myself. The only thing to betray her age was the dignity with which she walked and the elegance of her dress.

I remembered Mom had told me that they wanted to lock Ms. Snow away in a Hunger Games meant for the Capitol. Mom had shot the leader of the Rebellion, though, and so the game at the Capitol never came to be and no one knew about the plans except for those who had made the decision in the first place. Looking at her now, I knew mercy had been a mistake.

Her eyes were cold and she had no compassion in her eyes for us, and as she led us inside her house I glanced around at all the cameras. This was obviously for publicity, not because she wanted to wish us luck.

We entered her room for tea and fourteen chairs were arranged evenly around a large, low-lying table. Thirteen of the chairs were in a semi-circle ending half way around the table, and the fourteenth chair was propped on the other side so that its occupant could see the rest of the chairs with ease. Ms. Snow took that chair and so I glanced at the other thirteen. They all had numbers on them, one through thirteen, and I sat uneasily in the one labeled twelve.

The boy from eleven sat to my right, and the little girl from thirteen was at my left. I sat awkwardly between the two, keeping my elbows as close to myself as I could, trying to avoid touching either of them accidentally.

"Hi," I said, glancing back and forth between the two. The little girl looked up at me with surprise and terror in her face, and then quickly looked back down at her lap. The boy didn't even look at me... He probably assumed I was talking to the girl.

"What's your name?" I tried again, looking at the little girl.

"Uh... um... uh..." the girl stuttered. Her eyes were wide, showing off light brown irises, and twists of auburn hair hung around her face that matched her eyes. "It's Wind."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Wind," I said. "I'm Rosa, by the way."

"Yeah," she said, glancing down at her toes and gratefully taking a cup of tea from a server.

"For the record," the boy next to me said quietly, and I looked up at him in surprise. "Victors are supposed to get immunity. It's what they had said a while ago, you know."

"Sorry?" I asked, blinking.

""The victors still get immunity from the games. Happy Graveyard Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor"," he quoted. He glanced at me again. "I have a perfect memory, I remember everything that is said and done..."

"Oh, cool," I replied, uncertain of what someone was supposed to say in such circumstances. "Then why did Nero say that the winner could be reaped again?"

"I don't know," the boy shrugged. "I can only tell you what I heard. I'm Thray, by the way."

"I'm Rosa," I replied.

"I know," he said simply. "I remember." He seemed completely serious but then a smile cracked his face, and I realized he was making a joke.

Oh. Jokes.

I had heard those before...

I rewarded him with a smile, and glanced up as Ms. Snow began talking. "Please, feast. Tell me about yourselves."

And so we went around the circle, saying our names. Of course, it was fairly simple. Dianna, Ty, the District Three boy whose name escaped me once more. I paid attention to the girl from four who had been so rude to Thomas before, noting her as a threat. She was definitely a career.

Her name was Maris, and when she glanced up at me a chill raced down her spine. I knew that that girl was cold blooded. Her eyes were dead and stony and her face was completely emotionless, which was terrifying in and of itself.

After introducing ourselves, Ms. Snow really didn't want anything to do with us. Servers passed around biscuits and more tea, making sure that we had whatever pastries we wanted.

The little girl next to me, Wind, told me about her little brother back home named Martin who was six and how her mothers had adopted her when she was younger. She told me that her birth parents had given her to her mothers because her mothers loved her so much that they wanted her to be all their own, and that they picked her out of all the other kids.

I found it adorable and sad all at once, because I recognized that her brother had been born at the same time that the war had begun. It meant her family had probably died and she had been orphaned. I was just glad that the girl had been adopted by two wonderful women, and she told me happily about her mothers around a bite of cake.

"How do they know which one you're talking to?" Thray asked, leaning forward so that he could see Wind around me. "If they're both Mom, how do they know?"

"They're not both Mom," Wind said, her voice adopting a duh sort of tone. "I have Mom and Mama, that's their names."

"Ah, I see," Thray said with a thoughtful look. "Makes enough sense." He sat back in his chair and took another bite of biscuit.

"I can't wait to get out of here," I grumbled under my breath. "This room is stifling."

"I know, right?" Thray said. "It's almost as bad as the basement back home."

"Basement?" Wind asked. "Cool! We have a basement, but that's all we have, a basement without a house."

"Well, we rent out a basement," Thray said. "The Bakers actually own the house, but the let my mom, my dad, my older sister and my little brother and I live in their basement if we pay rent. We didn't ever have enough money for our own place, but if I win I think that'll change. Maybe then I'll be able to buy my brother a violin like he's been asking for for the past four years. Since he could talk, really."

"Alright, we're out of tea and I think it's time for you to move on to your next stop," Ms. Snow cut into the small conversations whirring around the room. "Don't be late!" I could see that she was anxious for us to leave, and frankly I was anxious to get out. We left quickly, and returned to the bus.

One stop down, and only about three dozen more to go.

Alright, so vote for one to die. Your least favorite, who you would like to see die first. The four characters that were introduced were: Thomas, Wind, Maris, and Thray.