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District 3

Mandy Guardson was always an underdog to her 18 year old sister Clera. Sure, she was smart enough, but nothing compared to Clera. Everyone in District 3 knew the name of Clera Guardson. After all, she would be District 3's first ever Career!

Mandy's bedroom door opened. It was Clera. She slammed the door shut and collapsed on Mandy's bed.

"I...I don't want to be a C-Career," she sobbed.

Mandy frowned. "What do you mean? You're the "Chosen One" Clera!"

She shook her head sadly. "There's a reason District 3 has only one living Victor. Seriously District 12 has more Victors than us!"

"Well, that's because most were killed in the rebellion. There are only like 7 left in all the Districts,"

"District 3 are good for nothing."

"Clera!" their father called from another room.

Clera stood up. "I'm not volunteering today, Mandy."

Jupiter Defcon sprinted for the pole he and his friends were using as a goal post. If he kept up the speed he would make it...WHAM!

Jupiter found himself on the ground with a splitting headache. He then saw who he ran into. He was sitting on the ground rubbing his head and looking dazed. HE looked familiar, but Jupiter couldn't really tell who it was.

The other guys slowly backed away as the man stood up, his dark eyes angry.

"Who are you!" he hissed.

"J-Jupiter Defcon," he stuttered.

He brushed the dirt off himself. "Mark my words, Jupiter Defcon. You will pay."

At the reaping the sky was overcast and it was getting slightly chilly. Mandy shivered, wishing the escort, Loam Agginson, would just get on with it. He was famous for being extremely foul tempered but he looked especially angry that day. For a moment she wondered who had made him so mad today, but there were more important things to think about. Like Clera. And how she wasn't volunteering.

"Mandy Guardson," Loam growled. Her eyes widened in shock for a minute, then she mentally screamed at Clera VOLUNTEER ALREADY!

But she didn't.

"Come on, we haven't got all day," Loam said. He scowled, thinking Mandy wouldn't get through the bloodbath, what an embarrassment.

He then moved on to the boys'. Jupiter, with the thirteen year old boys, was still wondering what the guy he'd ran into was going to do and not really watching Loam at all.

Then his friend Seth Walton nudged him. "That's the guy you ran into!" he hissed.

Oh no, he was right. The toxic green hair in spikes, the leather jacket. He didn't know how he hadn't recognized him before! His stomach gave a lurch at the thought of all the bad things Loam could do to him.

But it gave an even bigger lurch at the thought of what the easiest thing to do would be. Loam knew who he was, he'd told him his name. No matter what poor kid's name he chose Loam would always say-

"Jupiter Defcon," Loam announced.

District 4
This year would be like any other year, their tributes would join the Careers only to have one of the tributes from 1 or 2 dispose of them while they were sleeping, thought Ricky Lane bitterly. Every year he had to grit his teeth, clench his fists, and watch two kids, sometimes ones he knew, die at the hands of their own allies.

He really couldn't stand the gory killings of the Hunger Games. But no matter how much he hated it, they always came back every single year.

Allen Thornberry called soflty to the deer she had been feeding.

She had to spend time with the animals because everyone else generally avoided her. They thought she was kind of kooky, talking to animals.

She didn't think it was weird at all. Most animals she came across really loved her, and she loved them too.

She couldn't even go fishing like everyone else in her District, she hated killing and death that much.

District 4's escort, Miraz took a name right out of the top of the reaping ball. "Allen Thornberry" he read. A girl who looked scared out of her wits came up. Ricky knew her, they got along okay, but people usually said she was a little backwards. To their credit, though, Ricky had seen her down on the rocks by the beach, talking to crabs one time.

Like with the girls, Miraz just took the first paper he touched. Please don't be me, Ricky silently begged.

Allen knew she had an expression of fear on her face. She was afraid. She knew she would die, there was really no question about it, because she knew she couldn't kill if her life depended on it.

The boy tribute for this year is Ricky Lane. He's deathly pale but gives an encouraging smile for the crowd. They cheer, but they know, and so does everyone else, that these two are no Finnick Odair.