Marlyn Reiland
Sitting at the breakfast table, wearing a simple grey dress her mom had borrowed from some unknown relative, Marlyn absent-mindedly fiddled with a small, electronic spinning top that blinked pink and orange. It was a small toy that she had just learned how to make in her vocational training. Even at the young age of twelve, she was already beginning to learn how to wire circuits and create simple electronic switches and reactions. She didn't necessarily mind having to learn the trade of her District, but she was much more interested in talking with her other young friends and making small toys for them during her apprenticeship when she was supposed to be paying diligent attention. Marlyn's mom walked into the kitchen, planted a kiss on the top of her daughter's curly-haired head, and readjusted the babbling infant boy on her hip. "Good morning sweetheart," she said to Marlyn, "are you almost ready to go?" Marlyn's mom tried to act as if nothing potentially terrifying and life-changing was going on this afternoon, but even her mom's loving mood couldn't brighten up Marlyn. "Yeah I'm ready" she responded, trying to give her mom a convincing smile. Her brother reached from his mother's arms towards Marlyn, and she took his tiny hand in hers and gave it a playful wiggle. "Off we go then," Marlyn's mother stated. When the small family got to the square she kissed her mom and brother on the cheek in turn and took her place, for the first year, with the other children of the District. It was like her worst nightmare coming true when, from the multiple slips of folded paper, the District escort called happily, "Marlyn Reiland!" Her heart started pounding as she attempted to push images of young children being violently murdered from her thoughts. She took a futile glance around to see if anyone was foolish or crazy enough to volunteer to take her place. None did. With tears brimming on the bottom edges of her eyes, Marlyn took shaky steps up to the stage.
Levi Sayol
"LEVI SAYOL" Screams our distastefully excited escort. I can't believe it. My name was in the glass bowl ten times, that's it, ten times. No tesserae, nothing. Ten stupid pieces of paper out of thousands and I get picked. I freeze on the spot hoping that someone out there will save me but they are just as frightened as I am. Inch by inch I will myself onto the stage. With each step I take my resolve cracks a little more. By the time I make it on stage I look down so the people in my district and the people watching on TV won't be able to see the fear in my eyes. It's all I can take to keep from crying and just when I think I can retreat to the safety of the justice building and let my emotions out, I am forced to shake hands with my district partner as our escort presents us as the District Three Tributes. Her voice announcing us rings over and over in my head as it mocks me. This simple phrase destroyed what little control I had left and I burst into tears. Not the best way for a fifteen year old boy to make a first impression.