Joshua Niles
"I'm going to get Reaped today, I just know it," said Joshua to his family as they made their way to the square. "You say that every year honey," Joshua's mother replied. "But this year I know for sure." Joshua knew from the second he woke up that karmic energy was not in his favor today, and if karma wasn't on his side then how could the odds be in his favor. Already defeated, his family headed toward the square. Joshua's little brother was scared for his first Reaping and wasn't comforted by Joshua's constant re-assurance that he was safe. As the group approached the square the whole situation became more real. A sinking feeling came over Joshua as he took his place amongst his friends. Just like every year he was sure he was doomed and his friends were sure he was safe just like his family thought. The only bonus Joshua could see from his being Reaped that this was the last Reaping day he would have to endure. Like clockwork the whole day ran smoothly and it came time to pick the names. The escort that everyone hated walked to the glass bowl and Joshua started making his way toward the stage. Right as he reached the edge of his section the escort called out "Joshua Niles." "I hate it when I'm right" Joshua muttered under his breath and made his way to the stage.
Terra Zeff
I wait impatiently in the crowded square, I'm not worried about the Reapings, I never have been. None of my family members, friends, distant relatives, anyone in my life, has been sent to the Games, and so I know I wouldn't be either. I take it as a sign from the gods or something, that the Games have never touched my life. Maybe I am destined for something great so I am being kept from this tragedy. Probably not. No greatness ever seems to come from the mathematics kids. Either way, I'm not worried, even though, as a fourteen year old, I still have a few years to go to make the clean sweep. My simple black dress is foreign and uncomfortable on my body, which is used to slacks and blouses; a more crisp and uniform look for the kids my age who spend hours in school fine-tuning our number crunching. I watch the boy Tribute from my District take the stage. He is not as fortune-favored as me. Then I hear the girl Tribute's name being called. It's not mine. Just like I knew it wouldn't be. I look over to see who the unlucky female is, and I see a girl emerging, belly first, from the eighteen year old section. She is so hugely pregnant that I think she might give birth right here and now. Big tears are rolling down her cheeks as she tenderly cradles her stomach as she walks. This is so wrong. A pregnant girl should not be a Tribute. No matter what. Everyone in the audience cringes at the thought. I can't let this happen. So, even though these Hunger Games were never my fate, I can't let them into this child's life even before he is born naturally into them. In an unprecedented act for our District, I slap my good luck in the face and volunteer.