Chapter 3

~ District 2 ~

Almond Casey, 18

It was nearing sunset, and District Two was strangely peaceful at that time of day. In a narrow winding road, a boy of eighteen sat on the sidewalk just by the intersection, seemingly staring into space. Behind him was an ordinary two-story house with chipped windows and walls, and a couple strings of vines curling around the cement walls. Another boy with similar features as the first peaked from one of the windows of the second floor. His brown eyes narrowed at his brother seated on the sidewalk, wondering why on earth he was home at this time of day.

Muttering irately to himself, Aztec made his way out of the house and into their front garden.

"What are you doing home, Almond?" Aztec snapped.

Almond's head whipped around. His dark round eyes silently took in Aztec's presence, and then he grinned.

"Where else should I be?" Almond asked.

"Anywhere but wherever I am," Aztec spat. "Aren't you supposed to be training?"

"Aren't you supposed to be training too?" Almond winked at his look-a-like. "That's right. We're both ditching."

The younger scrunched his eyebrows. "That's weird. Why are you, of all people, ditching training today?"

"Because I felt like it," Almond said with a shrug, still grinning. "Haven't you ever done something just because you felt like doing it, Aztec? Or are you just too much of a little girl to do anything against the rules?"

Aztec's eye twitched. "If you've forgotten, I ditched training today too. And I'm leaving to go see my friends."

Almond suddenly burst out laughing, leaning back to lie down on the ground as he clutched the side of his stomach. He was so loud that his laughter could be heard at the end of the street. Aztec was slowly losing his temper when Almond still hadn't stopped laughing after five minutes.

"I don't understand what's so funny," Aztec grumbled.

"I don't either," Almond chuckled, finally calming down a bit.

"You are crazy," the sixteen year-old declared.

Almond laughed some more. "Not crazy! Just a bit insane."

"And that just proved it," Aztec muttered. "You know what, maybe you actually have a chance in this year's Games. Everyone would probably just kill themselves because of you."

"Why haven't you done that then?" Almond asked, looking up innocently at him.

"Trust me, I've thought about it," Aztec assured him.

"Me too." Almond nodded quite seriously for a second, but his grin was back on his face all too soon and he was laughing again.

But when Almond caught sight of someone walking towards them, he abruptly stopped. Curious, Aztec turned, wondering who could have possibly had the ability to shut his brother up. Both boys watched in surprise as their fair-haired sister neared their house. Her head was down as she held something up with her fingers and she walked very quickly. Almond's grin was back on his face when she realized that she was not alone.

"Don't tell me you're skipping training today too!"

Almond happily put an arm around her. Cinnamon timidly lifted her head up.

Aztec and Almond gasped. In between their little sister's lips was an unlit cigarette, and Aztec screamed at her to spit it out. Cinnamon did what she was told, looking up at both of her brothers as if she had not done anything wrong.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with a cigarette?" Aztec hissed, taking an angry step forward.

"Yeah, what do you think you're doing?" Almond laughed.

He bent down to pick it up. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket.

"You were doing it wrong!"

"Put it down, Almond!" Aztec growled at him, eyes flickering with rage. "Can you both please stop it? You're both trying to act like Carmel, but look where that attitude got her! She's dead."

At the mention of their dead older sister, Cinnamon burst into tears and ran into the house. Aztec and Almond watched her go, but with completely opposite facial expressions. Aztec looked rather guilty with his outburst, but Almond still grinned as he shook his head at his little brother.

"Not cool to mention Carmel, dude," Almond said with humor in his tone. "But good job on getting rid of Cinnamon 'cause she's kind of annoying anyway."

Having had enough of the Almond's insensitive nature, Aztec flipped his middle finger up at his brother. As usual, Almond was not fazed by Aztec's vulgar act. Shooting him one last glare, Aztec turned his back at his older brother and could not help but hope that he would not return after volunteering in two weeks.

Laurel Haddenes, 18

Files of trainees of all ages and sizes walked in the cafeteria of their training center with empty stomachs and a big appetite. District Two was all about being in order, and even the tables were each assigned to six specific people. Laurel seemed to be the only one in the room without a hungry look on her face. She was scowling instead, and once she took her usual place around her table, she looked like she was about to punch everyone around her.

"Are you alright?" a petite fourteen year-old named Cinnamon timidly asked.

The Casey girl sat in front of her, and Laurel was just about ready to stab herself with a fork. She didn't know what terrible thing she did in the past that made her deserve to sit directly across her.

"I'm fine," Laurel seethed but unclenched her fists.

"You don't look like it. Are you scared about volunteering? You're going to be going against my brother."

Laurel threw her a dirty look. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to tell Trainer Hammersmith that you really just ditched your archery training yesterday for nothing."

Cinnamon dropped her spoon. She lifted her head up to meet Laurel's eye, astonished.

"How'd you know that?" she asked shakily.

"Your brother likes to talk a lot," Laurel answered snippily.

Turning away from Cinnamon, she twisted her neck around to check if any trainer was watching. Internally rejoicing at the lack of supervisors, she took her plate and slid out of the bench. She briskly walked down the narrow aisle in between the rows of cafeteria tables. She could hear whispers and yelps as she passed, her fellow trainees wondering if she was purposely trying to get herself into trouble by leaving her assigned table. When she finally reached her destination, she slid into the bench right beside her best friend.

Toby looked to her left and nearly spat out her food. Hurriedly gulping down all the contents in her mouth, she shot Laurel a glare before speaking.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, her voice no louder than a whisper. "Get back to your place!"

"A Casey was there." Laurel rolled her eyes.

"Well you can't just–"

"I just did, Toby. You can't make me leave now. The trainer is watching again."

"Laurel, if you get everyone in this table in trouble, I swear–"

"He's not going to notice," Laurel cut her off again with a roll of her eyes. "Don't you want to listen to what I have to say?"

"What's so important that you risked leaving your place and going here?" Toby muttered, tugging on the ends of her blonde hair. "You could just tell me after. We're both in sword fighting after all."

Laurel grimaced. "I can't. I've already been worrying about it all morning. I mean I only just found out, and it's absolutely impossible but it's not because it's true! Does that make sense?"

"You tell me."

"This is no time for jokes, Toby!" Laurel snapped.

"Wha– How was that a joke?"

Laurel buried her face in her hands with a sigh. "Sorry, I'm just really weird right now. Mom– I mean, Aunt, guardian, whatever she is–"

"Aunt?" Toby exclaimed, her voice louder than her usual timid whispers. "Guardian? Laurel, she's your mother... She's your mother, right?"

Laurel opened her mouth to answer, but her last name boomed from the corner of the room. The entire cafeteria fell silent. The trainer made his way to Toby's table and looked down at them both. His icy blue eyes sent a chill down Laurel's spine, but she remained cool and composed as she stared back.

"Montello," Laurel dared to greet him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his words clear even if it seemed as if he was barely even moving his mouth.

"Talking about sword stuff," she replied lamely. "I'll go back now."

"You should," Montello agreed, narrowing his eyes at her.

Turning back to Toby, she offered her a small smile, hoping that she'd understand that she was okay. On her way back to her table, she tried her best not to lose her composure. She could not let the sudden hit on her emotional side affect her too much. She still had three days before Reaping Day, and she needed to be in the best condition when she would volunteer. But as she sat back down, the ache in her chest returned and her eyes stung.

"Stop it, Laurel," she whispered to herself, trying to forget about everything that already happened that day. "Nobody likes to see a leader get all emotional over something. There are more important matters at hand."

"Why are you talking to yourself?" Cinnamon asked.

Laurel blatantly ignored her.

~ District 5 ~

Dune Faraway, 17

Dune walked the streets of District Five with a rather unpleasant expression on his face as he went. He was taking his usual route, but he could not help but notice that there were more clumps of smoke in air than usual. Usually he could still inhale and exhale without having to cover his nose and mouth, but that afternoon had been different, and Dune wondered why.

As soon as he reached his destination, Dune burst into his apartment that luckily had been the first door of the first floor of the building. He dropped his hand to his side, slowly breathing in and out as he embraced the clean air. Smoke was never really much of a problem once a citizen of District Five gets used to it, but Dune could barely even see his way outside. It could only mean one thing, and Dune had already assumed it as soon as he smelled something burning.

Mrs. Faraway suddenly appeared from one of the rooms of their tiny apartment looking very alarmed. Her eyes scanned his sweaty face and only then did Dune realize that he must have gotten smudges of soot on his face. He pulled a dirty white handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his forehead and down to his cheeks.

His mother, Joule, shook her head with a click of her tongue. She shooed Dune away from the door and opened it slightly to be able to pop her head out for a second. As the door was closed once more, Joule sighed exhaustedly.

"Another accident," she mumbled sorrowfully.

"Another?" Dune exclaimed doubtfully. "But that would be the second one this week! There can't possibly be another factory accident."

"You've lived in District Five long enough to know that these things do happen quite often," Joule explained to her son. "Sometimes houses just burst into flames and nobody would even know how it happened."

Dune narrowed his eyes and began to ponder on a thought. "It's odd, don't you think?"

His mother rolled her eyes." You're doing it again, Dune. You always think that there's something hidden behind everything. Really, these accidents do happen."

Dune drifted off into his mind as he began to really think about the situation. He blocked out his mother's voice as he focused. These things did happen quite often, but why do they really? In a place like District Five, fire was exceedingly dangerous. Dune did not understand why factories would be so idiotic to accidentally set something ablaze. He could understand houses because they were much more likely. Just leaving the stove on for too long could already cause something drastic, but factories? Now that was worth being suspicious about.

"Come to the kitchen, Dune," Joule said, walking into a smaller room with a small round table and a couple of kitchen appliances squished together to make some space for movement.

Dune sat lazily on one of the chairs and dropped his bag. He pulled out his homework for Panem History and dipped his head down as he began to write. Joule lit up the stove and began to cook strips of dried fish.

"How was school today?" she asked. "Anything new?"

"Not really." He shrugged, keeping his eyes focused on his paper. "Our lesson in my history class is about the Dark Days, and we've got to make some essay about it."

Joule hesitated. "I'm sure you can think up of some basic stuff."

Dune sighed exasperatedly. "Mom, you know who'd be able to really help me about this stuff."

"You are not allowed to step in your grandfather's room, if that's what you're suggesting," she snapped.

Dune finally looked up from his work, palms flat on the table. "He's not crazy."

"Oh Dune, you're smarter than that."

"Fine, maybe he is," he began snippily, "but you've got to admit that he'd offer some really good facts about his time during the rebellion."

"The man can't even remember his own daughter's name," Joule huffed, voice cracking. "What makes you think he'll be able to tell you anything that makes sense about the Dark Days?"

"Because I actually listen, Mom," Dune replied softly, sensing the touchy topic.

Sighing, Joule dropped her spatula on her cooking pan and rested her head in her hands. Dune had not dared to speak, knowing that he had pushed her too hard with the topic of her father. She then turned to face her son looking more exhausted than she had before.

"Go do that in your room, Dune," she said. "I'll be setting up for supper and your sister should be home soon. I don't want you leaving either. Something's going on out there, and I'd much rather have you indoors at a time like this."

Without another word, Dune packed his things and exited the kitchen. He thought he heard his mother let out a choked sob, but he did not turn to confirm this. He hated to see his mother cry, but she seemed to be doing that a lot nowadays. His family was not exactly very high up with money, and his parents had to take care of two teenage children and his mother's father who couldn't even remember her anymore. Dune couldn't help but bitterly express how they deserved better, but things did not always work out.

Also despite his mother's restrictions, Dune stepped into his grandfather's room instead of his own. He was going to get this research paper done.

Shaleh Turrent, 17

There was a baby crying in her arms. Shaleh burst through a wooden door as the flames grew bigger by the walls of the four-cornered room. The door had taken her to another that was not any better. Shaleh bowed her head down, letting her thick red hair fall around her face as she covered her nose and mouth with her damp shirt. The baby continued to wail, making it very difficult for Shaleh to concentrate on her surroundings. She squinted through the smoke, her neck twisting round to spot the exit. A flash of bright light caught her eye. Her head whipped around for the source. Her heart stuttered in relief when she found a window. Best of all, no flames were blocking her from getting there.

Breaking into a sprint, she threw herself at the glass with one arm cradling the baby. She used the other to pull the window up. As soon as it opened, Shaleh breathed in the fresh air. She heard screams from below and looking down, she could see a middle-aged couple standing right below her. The woman, covered in soot, waved both hands in the air as she tried to get Shaleh's attention. She was crying, almost as bad as her baby did. The man was cleaner. In fact, he still wore his factory uniform and he was merely coated with sweat. He must not have been in the house when it happened.

The firemen had arrived. They burst into the burning house with their equipment. Shaleh watched them with awe. She had always liked their bright yellow uniforms.

It took a while for one of the men in yellow to notice her standing by the window. As soon as they placed a ladder by the brick wall, Shaleh climbed down with the baby still tucked under her arm. The mother was immediately by her side, forcefully taking the baby from her. Both parents walked away without a word. Shaleh frowned, expecting at least a thank you. It was why she did this in the first place.

Shaleh sighed and turned, watching the firemen extinguish the flames. As she watched the fire die down, she could feel herself getting more and more upset.

"It was fun while if lasted," Shaleh muttered once the fires were completely gone and all that was left was the ruined house.

She was always surprised at how much destruction fire could cause. When she first flicked open a lighter and watched the flames dance, she couldn't imagine that it would be able to hurt anyone. It looked too beautiful to cause any harm, but Shaleh was wrong. Fire could burn down an entire civilization. It was then when she developed a fascination for burning things as well. At random times, she'd take a piece of paper and light the corner. She would watch the flame turn the entire paper into ashes, and then she'd feel giddy inside.

Looking up at the burnt house, Shaleh could feel a tingling sensation on her fingertips. Her hand twitched to pull something out of her right pocket, but Shaleh shook her head and resisted knowing that it was too risky.

The father of the baby Shaleh had saved approached her. She immediately turned her facial expression from rather depressed to concern. He offered his hand and Shaleh took it, offering him a sad smile.

"Sorry for the house," she said, inwardly laughing at how true her statement had been.

"Yes, it's rather sad," he chuckled, attempting to smile but failing. "We've had this house for years. We were planning to raise Isaac here."

Shaleh frowned, hoping she had known that beforehand.

"Oh," she mumbled. "I hope you can find some place else, I suppose?"

The man shrugged. Then he finally offered her a genuine smile. "I believe my wife and I haven't thanked you for saving Isaac. I apologize for my wife for just taking him without saying anything. She was just really worried."

"I understand, sir," Shaleh replied.

"Call me Coby," he insisted. "And you are?"

"Shaleh Turrent."

"It's good meeting you, Shaleh."

Coby opened his mouth to speak again, but he hesitated.

"Were you able to see how exactly the fire started?" he finally asked, looking hopeful.

Shaleh was suddenly very aware that her palms were sweating, and her urge was getting stronger and stronger. She gulped, but did not risk losing her composure. She slipped her hand inside her right pocket and pulled out something small and metallic. She hid her hand behind her back as she fingered what she held.

Her finger traced the opening and with one flick of her thumb, the flame was free.

"No," Shaleh finally replied. "I have no idea who started it."

She sighed in relief when the man left. She only looked forward to what came next. She'd be the talk of the District. She was Shaleh, the girl who saved people from fire. But then again, she was also Shaleh, the girl who started them.

~ District 6 ~

Nyomi 'Nim' Harley, 15

Nim sat on her father's armchair. It smelt like alcohol and his cheap cologne. There were cuts all over. Some were small, sort of like scratches from a cat or fingernails. Others were very big, as if someone had used a knife on it. She felt something beneath her bottom as she sat. She knew this was probably where her father hid his bottles of alcohol and other "goods". But despite all these, there was a sense of comfort in the armchair, which was why Nim liked to sit on it.

She was waiting. It was already three in the morning, but she was not feeling sleepy at all. In fact, she was very alert as she sat with a straight back and her eyes were focused on the front door. Rarely did she ever complete eight hours of sleep that a young girl her age was supposed to have. There were bags under her dull blue eyes and she tied her stringy blonde hair back to keep it from covering her face.

Nim's father arrived at half past three. She was falling asleep by then but she jolted wide-awake when the doorknob began to jiggle. She heard her father curse as he probably attempted to slide in his key, but the hole was too tiny for him to see in his drunken state. Nim was about to open the door for him from inside the house but then she fell back on the chair, ultimately deciding to let him suffer for a while. It was his fault for getting home so late anyway. She should have been sleeping by now.

It took him exactly eight minutes to finally open the door. As soon as he stumbled in, his eyes narrowed at his daughter who was curled up comfortably in his chair.

"How long have you been here?" he slurred, leaning against the wall for support.

"Oh, I never left," Nim replied. "I've been here since you were gone. I was waiting for you to come back."

"There's no need for that," her father said with a snort. "I can take care of myself well enough."

She rolled his eyes at him.

"You're forgetting who the father is here, Nim," he snapped. "Go to sleep."

"You could have at least told me where you were going," she shot back.

"You know where! I was with old Markus and the gang. You know what we do, Nim. I can't let you in those stuffs."

"I'm already in," Nim muttered, hugging her knees to her chest.

Sighing, her father squeezed into the little space beside her on the armchair. He pulled Nim into his arms. She hadn't minded even if he did reek of alcohol. Nim had always been proud of how she managed to get him somewhat sober without having to make him take anything. Just by talking to him would already put him in the right head.

"I don't want you part of this," Nim's father whispered to her. "It's too dangerous for you. Even Oliver has more experience and he's only sixteen. You're just fifteen and starting, Nim. You have to stay in the house. I'm not allowing you to go back there."

"I have to watch you." Nim shook her head. "Something might happen to you."

"I've been doing this for years," he chuckled. "Nothing's happened."

"Oh really?" Nim swung round to face him. "People go insane and die of overdose all the goddamned time, Dad. What makes you think it won't happen to you?"

"Because I've got you, Nim," he insisted. "You're what keeps me living in this damned world. Other people have got no reason to live anymore but I've got you."

Nim sighed, snuggling closer to her father. She knew what kind of person he was. He drunk bottles daily and wasted all his extra cash on illegal drugs. He was a runner himself, someone who delivered the packages straight from the source to those around District Six. Six had the most addicts and Nim never understood why. She wished her father would detach from that sort of doing, but it seemed that day after day he was becoming more and more into it.

Growing up without a mother was never easy, and sometimes Nim would feel that roles had switched between her and her father. She was the parent most of the time, scolding him for coming home past his curfew and telling him that she just wanted to best for him and his future. But what other future could he possibly have? Nim did not know.

"Go to sleep, love," Nim's father whispered in her ear as her eyelids began flutter to a close. "Everything's going to be okay."

As she fell into a deep dark slumber, Nim felt a tug in the bottom of her stomach. Somehow she knew that things weren't going to be as okay as her father had hoped. With the reapings coming up, something disastrous was bound to happen.

Cambric 'Cam' Araujo, 14

Cam woke up to someone knocking furiously at his bedroom window. He was never much of a morning person so when he forced himself to climb out of bed and pulled his window open, he growled at his ginger-haired friend who was grinning from ear to ear. Although even when his best friend was waking him up way too early on a Saturday, he couldn't bring himself to snap at him. Instead he took a deep breath and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Is there anything you need?" Cam asked calmly.

He sounded completely civil with no trace of irritation in his tone. This was what Kothe loved about him. He never really got angry, which was why Kothe got away with being the irritating best friend.

"We've got a game," Kothe happily replied. "Grayson's already waiting."

Cam blinked at him, hoping he was kidding. He was not going to play. Not at seven on a Saturday morning. Kothe had to be pulling his leg. That was what he did. He tended to play a lot of jokes on people. Cam wouldn't be surprised if this were one of those times.

So the taller of the two laughed, patting the redhead on the shoulder as if he were saying 'Good one, dude!'. Before Cam could collapse back on his bed though, Kothe grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. This time, he wasn't smiling.

"Dude, I'm serious."

Fifteen minutes later, Cam and Kothe were walking side by side in their baggy shirts and shorts. They were a rather comical sight to see as Kothe was bouncing on his heels as he walked and Cam sulked by his side. He suppressed a yawn once they reached the playing field since Grayson was impatiently waiting by the fence. Cam rolled his eyes at his appearance, judging by his ragged look he probably didn't bother to do anything to freshen up.

"Should Kothe and I keep a distance because your breath probably smells bad?" Cam snickered.

Kothe burst into giggles.

Grayson shot him a glare. "Get your act together, Cambric. We've got a game to win today."

"Stop being so serious, Gray," Kothe chuckled, slinging an arm over his shoulder. "Cam was just kidding around. You know we don't get that many jokes from him."

Cam playfully punched him on the shoulder. "That's because you hog all the good ones."

Kothe gave him an arrogant smile. Grayson had shrugged the arm off his shoulder when he spun round with narrowed eyes. Cam and Kothe turned to the same direction and finally understood Grayson's uneasiness.

They were going against the their biggest enemy in the world of Demi Ball. The one who invented Demi Ball was the father of the leader of the gang, Demi Hesley. The game was very popular among teenage boys nowadays. It was similar to the ancient ball game called soccer except Demi Hesley tweaked the rules a bit. Although the goal (which was to score as most points as the team could) was still the same, Demi Ball was a rougher version of soccer and for Cam, he much rather would prefer playing soccer instead.

Dakota Hesley strutted towards the trio. He was just as tall as Cam but two years older. He had the ball under his arm and four of his cronies followed behind him. They were all big and ugly and Cam had never liked to associate himself with them. They had even confronted him in school a few times, asking him if he wanted to hang out with them. He apparently was a good enough Demi Ball player to join them, but he had never thought of ditching Grayson and Kothe to join Dakota. It would be the last thing he'd ever do.

"Ready to play, midgets?" Dakota taunted them with a sneer.

"Bring it, Hesley," Grayson shot back.

Dakota scanned our team and began to laugh. Grayson frowned, unable to pinpoint what exactly was funny.

"You need at least five to a team," he said making Grayson's face fall.

He swiftly turned around, facing Kothe and Cam looking very panicked.

"Where are Sulia and Suraj?" he demanded.

When he wasn't provided an answer, Dakota laughed again. He seemed to enjoy seeing Grayson panic over his team. Grayson began to pace, trying to think of ideas on how to form a complete team of five. Dakota began giving out insults, towering over Grayson as he bullied him. Kothe stood stiff behind his best friend and for once, he didn't know what to say. Surprisingly Cam did.

"Hey, Dakota!" he snapped. "Why don't we just play three on three? It's obvious that we've got no full five."

"Three on three is practice, Cambric," Dakota snorted.

"Well three is all we've got," Cam shot back. "Take it or leave it."

Dakota began to sound more annoyed, his eyes flashing. "I'm not doing three on three in a game."

Cam crossed his arms. "Fine. Go leave then. Never thought you'd be the type to run from a game."

That line had gotten to him and in no time Dakota was yelling out orders at his team. Grayson shot Cam a grateful smile.

~ District 10 ~

Melisent Ontone, 17

Two redheads hid behind a berried bush by the Garner's farm. Pollina Garner was milking her cow into her silver bucket and her husband Maxim was feeding the chickens. From behind the bush, two heads popped up at the same time. They were almost indistinguishable from each other as they were exactly alike. Two pairs of gray eyes narrowed at the Garner couple. The one on the left scoffed and fell on her knees, concealing herself once more. The one of the right still stood on both knees and continued to spy on the Garners.

"It's no use, Melisent," the redhead seated on the soil mumbled in annoyance. "They're not leaving anytime soon."

Melisent looked down at her sister Melanie. Finally she lowered herself to the ground and sat by her sister. They were both completely out of ideas.

"You're the smart one," Melisent said. "You can think of something, can't you?"

Sighing Melanie nodded as she decided to give it one last shot. She stood on her knees and popped her head out again. Then her eyes widened and she grinned. She bounced up on her feet and Melisent cursed in surprise.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed, tugging at Melanie's shirt to bring her back down. "You'll be seen!"

"Melisent, they're gone!" Melanie squealed in delight.

Unable to believe it, Melisent stood on both feet cautiously. Indeed both Garners had gone, but that was impossible. They were there just a minute ago. How could they just disappear all of a sudden? Of course only Melanie could answer that, as she was the observer in these situations. Melisent was simply the sneaky one. If Melanie could think of the plans, Melisent was the one to put them into action.

"Maxim still hasn't fed the group of chickens in that pen over there," Melanie pointed to the furthest of the chickens. "The bucket of milk is still half full and under the cow meaning Pollina still hasn't finished. They probably forgot something inside. Maxim probably just ran out of chicken feed and Pollina's helping him find it! Either way, they're both inside and we've got approximately five minutes to get what we need."

"Is the milk enough for us to split?" Melisent asked, biting her lip nervously.

"Enough for a day's meal, Mel," her twin said cheerfully. "Come on. I'll be the look out. Work fast."

And they were off. Melisent had no idea how many times they had done this. She already knew their whole routine. The Garners never even suspected them, which was the best part. Melanie was a faster runner of the two so she was in the lead. She hoisted herself over the fence and landed on the both feet, nearly losing balance. Melisent swung her legs over the fence a few seconds after but instead of racing towards the back door like Melanie did, she ran to the bucket of milk under the cow.

All she needed to do was take the bucket from its handle, but its contents hadn't looked as much as it did from afar. She could vaguely hear Melanie whisper her name, probably to tell her to get a move on. Melisent looked to the back door. Nobody seemed to be on his or her way out. She just needed a few minutes.

Sitting on the plastic stool, she slipped on the gloves left on the grass and began to milk the cow. Thankfully she was skilled because she used to own one herself before her mother had to sell it. She tried to work as quickly as possible without having to hurt the cow and she could feel that Melanie was glaring daggers at her back and the only thing keeping her from screaming at her sister was the fact that they were on a mission.

She heard a small crash of metallic objects from inside the house. A string of curses came from Maxim Garner's mouth and Melisent's hand slipped. They began to shake a bit, but she was too stubborn to stop now. The bucket was nearly filled. She just needed a bit more time. Suddenly she heard Pollina Garner's voice, scolding Maxim for the mess he made in the house. Melisent did not dare turn to look at Melanie who was probably seething with rage. She'd be thanking her though once this was all over. They'd be having milk enough to last at least a week after this.

"You better clean this quick, Maxim. I've still got to milk the cow outside!"

"Melisent! Get your sorry ass out of there!"

She did not know which was worse. Pollina's words from inside, making her hands nervously shake or Melanie's furious whispers. Melanie was too afraid to leave her place beside the door in case Maxim and Pollina were to come out so Melisent was one her own.

Finally the bucket was filled and she was ready to leave. Unfortunately the weight of the milk slowed her down. Even with Melanie's help, they had difficulty in carrying the bucket to the fence. They couldn't jump over it like they did in entering because all the milk would spill. Melanie jumped over first and ordered for Melisent to lift it over. After transferring the milk over the fence in success, Melisent pulled herself up and over as well and only then did Maxim and Pollina return.

As they carried the bucket of milk to Melisent's home, Melanie faced her, panting hard.

"That could have gotten us caught," she said but she was smiling. "You are absolutely insane."

Caleb Trainor, 17

The laboratory was already closed. The last of the employees had locked the doors and closed the gates, making sure that all necessary lockdowns were in check. They worked in the biggest lab in Ten and worked with the deadliest of animals. The Capitol had provided them of all equipment. One glass container could feed a starving family in Ten. So workers were very particular with their lockdown every night. They made sure nobody was going to be able to break in.

But little did they know that the one who intended to break in in the first place was a worker himself! Caleb Trainor of seventeen snuck in the lab in the dead of night with only his key and I.D. He snuck in swiftly and quietly. With a single scan of his I.D., he was able to bring back the light of the lab. The deadly feeling of being alone sent a chill down his spine. His mother constantly reminded him never to step foot inside the building without adult supervision unless it was working hours.

Caleb never really thought things through. Even then he did not have a single idea on why he was breaking into the lab in the dead of night when he was returning in the afternoon after school the next day anyway. Maybe it was because he liked the feeling of being in a place he loved and surrounded by species that he felt even more comfortable around than regular human beings.

His fellow peers hadn't liked talking to him very much. A reason would possibly be because Caleb himself has not bothered with any kind of socializing with adolescents his age. Another possible reason is because he associated himself with the kind of work that majority of the citizens in his district had ever since despised.

It was the kind of work that screamed 'I love the Capitol!' to them and it gave them the wrong idea. Caleb did not really understand nor did he bother to find understanding in it. The last thing he wanted to study were the motives of the people around him. He rather found the scientific way of understanding human beings more enjoyable to him. He had always tried not let what others thought of him affect him too much but the only way to keep his mind away from the reality outside the lab was to be inside the lab which was why he used every second of his spare time behind his desk, working on his new experiments.

Caleb entered Room XXX of the laboratory. It was where his mother's office was located and where she worked on her latest subjects. It was Caleb's favorite room in the entire lab. Room XXX only held the most dangerous of species and more than often are the beings here shipped off to the Capitol especially when it's only a few weeks before the Games start. Caleb always felt a rush of sadness in seeing his mother's creations boarded into a hovercraft only to be used as toys and lapdogs by the Gamemakers.

As Caleb hung around in the room, he observed the six pairs of glass doors. They were situated around in a half circle, surrounding the long tables of microscopes and computers. Above each pair were scientific names of the animals used to create the new species. The most common used were dogs and wolves as they were one of the easiest to undergo mutation.

All of the six pairs of glass doors were padlocked but one. Caleb approached the one with no lock, wondering why anyone who worked in this room would be irresponsible enough to keep one of these doors unlocked. There was only one name above the doors: Eunectes murinus. As he read this, Caleb recognized the name almost immediately.

Eunectes murinus otherwise know as the green anaconda, is a very large, semiaquatic, non-venomous boa species. They are known for squeezing their victims to death and are one of the largest snakes in the entire world. How on earth Caleb's lab was able to get one of these was beyond him. The plaque below the name of the anaconda only had a big question mark painted on it.

Before Caleb could step in to see what was inside those glass doors, the door of Room XXX suddenly rose and a woman with dark hair and dark skin like Caleb's stepped in looking rather angry.

"Caleb, I told you never to go in here alone!" she scolded him with her hands on her hips. "Step away from those doors!"

But Caleb did not want to, and he found his mother's hostility rather irrational.

"I just want to see what you've got in here," Caleb said, taking a step closer. "It's not going to kill me, is it? It's probably in a glass case. Plus, I think it's a new mutation! We'll be able to see the early stages of experimentation. Doesn't that excite you?"

"Caleb, if you take one step closer–"

The door suddenly rose again and three Peacekeepers marched in.

"Mr. Trainor, step away from the doors."

Caleb wasn't about to defy the orders of the Peacekeeper, so he did what he was told. His mother rushed to his side and the pair watched as the Peacekeepers walked into the room of the anaconda. They carried a medium-sized glass case out, and Caleb was tempted to ask what was inside. It was covered by white cloth but as the Peacekeepers rushed out, the cloth slipped a bit to reveal a part of a case.

His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he caught a glimpse of water and a slim green tail. He also could have sworn he saw sparks of electricity.

"Where are they taking it?" Caleb asked shakily.

When he met his mother's eyes, he already knew.

"The Capitol," she said.

Author's Note:

I'm back! Anyway here's the second batch and I have to admit that I had a lot of fun with them. I've realized my weakness in my introductory chapters though. It's really either I give more focus on the tribute's past or their personality. I try my best to put in both but it doesn't work out sometimes. So if the tribute lacks information on their past or their personality isn't portrayed very much, then now you know! It's hard since I really try to limit each of the introductions to a certain number of words. More will be revealed about the tribute as the story progresses.

This format by the way will still show the reapings but it will all be in Franco's point of view most probably. The reapings will be posted after the last introductory chapter with the last set of tributes. Sorry if I took too long for you (been terribly busy) but consider this update as a Christmas gift!

Also did anyone notice the hint about the arena? Should be pretty obvious. If you have any guesses on how the arena will turn up, I'll be happy to hear them!

Happy Christmas everybody and as usual I would appreciate your thoughts on the chapter. :)

PS- If you think it's been too long since the story had an update, check my profile because I usually post updates on when I'll be able to post the next chapter.

~jess