Another chapter, thanks for your feedback =) enjoy

Clarisse

Clarisse drove her axe into the base of the tree. She was tired. She was angry. She was hungry. And there was no way to get out of it.

Her name was in the reaping bowl too many times this year. Tesserae was a real pain in the ass when you had five siblings. Being the oldest definitely had to be the worst part of Clarisse's miserable life.

There were many reasons Clarisse's life sucked. Number one – she's ugly. Scarred, bulky, and tall, her choppy dirty blonde hair always covered in grime. Number two – her family. Five siblings, a sick mother, and a peacekeeper father who was never around. And when he was, well, let's just say him a Clarisse got along great – she still had a bruise on her jaw from the last time he decided to come by.

Number three – Her name, Clarisse La Rue, was in the bowl over 47 times. That has to be some sort of record. And if Clarisse was reaped, once again, the gods may be the only way they'll survive.

The tree she was cutting into fell. It crashed with a bang. The Peacekeeper in charge nodded at her before blowing the whistle that signified curfew. She walked towards the exit path. A peacekeeper in front of her asked for her axe. She handed it to him. He paid her.

That was that.

Clarisse walked home in the cool shadow of the trees. Her home was small. Her mother, whom slept in the only mattress in the house, shared the bed with Jake and Nyssa, the youngest, only three years old and twins. Rita was seven, and she slept on the floor along with Troy and Remus whom were eight and ten. The reason Clarisse was eight years older than all of them?

Her father hadn't been a git his entire life. That was only after the Capitol offered him a job. He left for training and he only came back to this house to sleep with her mother. Until she got sick. Now Clarisse had to deal with him twice a week.

She wished she didn't need his stupid salary and his stupid job. Sadly, her siblings all had school and when they didn't study they picked berries and sold them to the supermarket in the plaza.

Clarisse knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't win the games. Then again, she wouldn't be alive to feel the guilt.

The strong girl walked inside. Her mind screamed when she heard her sister and her brother fighting.

"But you had the bread last time! I haven't had bread in two months!" Rita yelled at her brother, her brown ratty hair tangled in her eyes as she pulled on a piece of bread.

"Well, it wasn't my fault you ate mom's dinner! I get the bread." Troy shouted back, his blonde hair gleaming in the candle light. It was nearly nine PM.

Clarisse walked in and brusquely took the bread away from the both of them. It was barely big enough to fit in her hand. "Remus, do you mind going down to the plaza and buying us more bread? I'll make soup." Her brother nodded as she placed the currency in his hand. Only half of her pay left.

"Troy and Rita." They both looked at her like lost puppies. She couldn't stand being mad at them. "This is the third time this week you've fought over food. The next time it happens, you won't get any, understood?"

They both nodded. "Grab the onions from the cabinet and some salt and make yourselves useful."

They both got to work, but just as Clarisse started lighting the fire, she heard crying from the other room.

Clarisse did not know how she would survive.

Grover

Grover couldn't believe how many people actually wanted trees that wouldn't be cut down, plants that wouldn't be weeded, and flowers that wouldn't be picked in District 7.

For example, for some reason, the mayor – an old lady with leathery skin and hair so blonde it looked green, bought a new plant once a week. Grover wondered how all that fit into her backyard, even if she had the largest in the district.

Grover was walking home when she saw her on her way to his uncle's garden shop. She smiled at him, but he couldn't bring himself to smile back. Mayor Medusa was a bit creepy. When he entered the shop, a couple minutes before she did, he looked around cautiously before calling out "Uncle Ferdinand?" and walking behind the counter.

"He's not here, Grover." Another voice answered instead, dark brown hair with a purple ribbon in it coming into view.

"Oh," Grover felt his cheeks flush and he dropped his school bag on the ground. "It's you. Did he say where he went? The mayor is about to come in."

Juniper Bloom smiled at him. She was his age, with ringlets of brown hair, dark green eyes, and full pink lips. Her cheeks were always blushed and she was always smiling. "He went to buy, um. . .your clothes for tomorrow."

Grover's lips shaped into a sad O. "He'll–"

Before she could finish, the bell at the entrance chimed. The both of them could hear the lady's heels clanking on the floor.

Juniper smiled reassuringly at him before grabbing his arm and pulling him up onto the stool behind the counter with her. His uncle had put it there for when Grover had to help the customers.

"Hello, Missus Mayor. Anything in specific you looking for today?" Juniper said brightly, making him send her a glance.

The mayor was still ducked down looking at a certain orchid blooming, when she straightened up. "Mmmh, I don't know. You wouldn't happen to -" the mayor tripped into the plant behind her and quickly picked it up, brushing off the dirt.

Grover and Juniper shared a glance and suppressed giggles.

"Oh, um, excuse me." She looked up, pushing her sunglasses up to her eyes. Grover was glad she always had them on. He'd heard stories about how strange that women's eyes were. She used to live in the capitol before the revolution. "Just looking for the blue orchid's I asked for last week."

"One sec," Juniper told her before jumping off the stool. "Did you see any blue orchids?" she asked him once he had gotten down too. He gave her a confused look. Then, his memory sharpened.

"Yeah! They're over here." Grover hurried to the place he'd last seen them, in the back of his uncle's room. "Over here!" he shouted to Juniper, who was still a ways behind him.

"Grover."

"What? I found the flower, Juniper."

"Grover, look."

Grover looked over, the tulip in his arms. "What?"

She motioned for him to come over, and when he did, he stopped dead in his tracks, almost dropping the flower.

On the wall next to a yellow dandelion, was a photograph of his uncle, his father - Pan Underwood – who died in the second games, and a man who Grover recognized instantly.

Ares Marlom, the fourth ever winner of the games, stood with the only family Grover ever knew. Juniper reached out and turned the picture around.

Best friends – Ares, Pan and 'Nandi

Grover finally dropped the flowers.

Drew

(Warning: Rape and sexual abuse. Not explicit.)

Drew trailed kisses down his chest, she whimpered as he continued to roughly rip her clothes off, one by one. She kept kissing, lower.

Lower.

She felt his hands on her.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to kick him in the soft spot and run.

But she couldn't. Her family needed this money.

Lucy, Mitchell, Tommy, Maya – they needed her.

She let him continue to abuse her. His hands wandering – grabbing and pinching brutally.

"Little slut, aren't ya?" the man murmured huskily in her ear. Drew shivered before he slapped her on the ass and pushed her down onto the floor of his bedroom. It was cold.

"Be a good little slut and suck my dick, why don't you?"

Before she knew it she was choking, and crying, and she didn't know what was worse. What was worse?

The taste. The smell. All the things that proved that this was real. That she wasn't having a nightmare. He pulled her away by her hair and pushed her down to all fours.

He spread her legs and fucked her. No warning, no softness. In and out, in and out, roughly and quickly.

Drew bit her lip not to cry out.

This was her choice. She was doing this for a good cause. She had to get her sister something to wear for tomorrow. She had to feed herself. She had to do everything.

When he was done, he yelled at her to get her stuff and leave. That her pay would be on the table next to the door.

She left without another word. The money was there where he said it would be. She took it and exited into the cool summer night. She looked at the clock tower in town square. It was a ratty looking clock, the numbers rusted into near ineligibility. 10:30 PM.

All the shops would be closed. Minus one. The factory. Drew was nearly the only 14-year-old in the district who was not working in the factory. Her dad worked in the factory. Her 13-year-old little brother Mitchel worked in the factory. Even her 12-year-old sister had started work there this year. The putrid work of making peacekeeper uniforms, fancy dresses, and fancy suits. Anything that was found an error in would be sold to District 8's people, for high and unimaginable prices.

When Mitchel and Lucy had gotten home from work today, Mitchel's middle finger had a huge cut in it. Drew stitched it up and used the money separated to buy Lucy a reaping dress to make sure it wouldn't get infected. A little bottle of antibiotics and a small tube of cream had cost nearly all she had saved from the last time she . . .worked. Her dad spent money on his liquor and his girlfriends. Her brother and sister made money to buy not nearly enough food. Their mom died giving birth to the twins – who were now seven. Her dad basically died with her. He used to be her favorite person in the whole world.

He bought her bows, dresses, and little baked goods. Drew wished she still had some of those, but sadly, she'd sold all of them at the black market when her mother died. Her name was in the cup 14 times. Her name should only be in the cup 6 times, but tesserae was a necessity when winter came, and the kids got sick.

Drew entered the Factory store. She went straight to the girls section. There, she found the dress she had been eyeing since she earned the money to buy it in the first place. Pink and glossy. A little white ribbon tied itself around the waist. White ruffles were on the neckline and the baseline. It was nearly exactly like the one her dad bought her years ago. Drew grabbed it and took it to the front desk. The girl behind the register was a classmate of hers: Pipa.

"Drew," she said as she examined the dress, "you're not gonna get away with not working here much longer. I don't think your family will survive if you keep putting this off."

Drew smiled fakely at her. "My family is none of your business. And I'll get away with whatever the hell I want."

Drew poured the money into Pipa's outstretch hand, ignoring the way her classmate's face frowned angrily at her. Drew didn't care. It had been a long time since she cared.

She took the dress and walked out of that store with a sneer on her face. She wore the clothes; she refused to be the one to make them.

Chris

Chris Rodriguez would definitely never win award of the year for being a good person. No, that wasn't a possibility. He stole, he lied, he gambled, he cheated, and he nearly always blamed other people.

Chris had two really nice parents. His mom cooked for the mayor and his dad was the Factory's best warehouse manager. Chris never needed tesserae, he always had cooked meals, and he always had nice clothes. He was one of the well-off kids in District 8 and he knew it.

So instead of appreciating that and being a good kid, he thought it'd be okay to break the rules. After all, he never got caught. And he was good at what he did.

Some of what he did was good. He'd steal from the rich and then give what he stole to the Black Market. However, there was no denying he was a thief, and the whole district knew that by now. Which, if he wasn't careful, would get him caught.

So, Chris always had an aching suspicion that one year, when he went too far, they would rig the reaping and he would be chosen to participate in the next games. Well, not one year – this year. He already turned eighteen in February. Chris never disliked one of his bad feelings more than this one. So, he decided if this was the last time he could possibly pull another prank or steal something big, he would go all out. And Chris already had his eyes set on quite the prize.

Although electronics were not Chris's best skills, he had once rewired the screen is his house to skip all Capitol adds when he was thirteen. When his parents got home they had given him a hell of beating and made him undo all his hard work. Chris would practice everyday when his parents left for work after that.

So, now he had his eyes on a slightly bigger screen. Every year, they would play the same educational video at the reaping. All Chris could hope to do without getting caught until after the reaping was change up the sound a bit and put on an ad for something else. So that's what he did at around 11PM that night, dressed in his black sweater with a hood (something that was strange to see in the district – hooded articles of clothing were reserved for Capitol people, but Chris had made his own. He was very handy.), dark ripped blue jeans, and a pair of old running shoes he'd sneakily stole from the black market. All the electronic equipment was kept in the Mayor's house, so he hastily stole his mom's keys to the kitchen and snuck away in to the dark.

Unknowingly to Chris, a peacekeeper saw his entrance to the kitchen through the camera situated in the front door. What he did inside, the guard had no clue, but the breaking and entering would certainly be paid for. That boy was a thief, and thieves weren't the type of people you want to keep around in District 8.

Travis

Having a brother, Travis Stoll decided when he was at least nine, was awesome. Having a brother that looked identical to yourself, even if you weren't twins, was even better. Although both of them had found it a bit annoying at one point or another ("Mom, that's Travis." "Oh, I'm sorry dears." "You'd think she'd know the difference, she's our mother."), it was still awesome.

Connor Stoll was only an inch shorter than Travis, but the boy was sixteen – two years younger - and Travis constantly worried what he would do when the one taking tesserae every year would be his brother. He'd have to get a job either in the fields or in the factory, sorting and packaging grains. Travis couldn't keep still and he could barely count to 40 without losing count and focus. Grain? It'd slip right through his fingers and then he'd get in trouble. He didn't even want to think about the year to come.

With the reaping the next day, he and his brother had quite a bit of work to do. It was the last day of school, and even though the reaping ruined everyone's moods, Connor had forced Travis into asking Katie Gardner out today. Connor had been extremely persuasive.

"What if it's you they take tomorrow? You'll regret never asking her. You should, even if she says no, at least try. You know she likes you, you two fight like an old married couple half the time and make gooey eyes at each other the other half."

As he said, Connor found his weakness. What if he never saw her again? Never felt her strawberry brown locks through his fingers or even attempted to kiss her sun-kissed petal soft skin? He wouldn't be able to live with himself. Travis also knew that if he got reaped (with his name in the bowl over 38 times it was a decent possibility) his chance of survival would be puny. Unless the games could be treated like one huge deadly prank on the other players he didn't stand a chance in the best case scenario which was. . .well, it's the Hunger Games, he isn't sure if there is a best case scenario.

Anyways, Katie was 17, and as far as he knew her name wasn't in the bowl many times. She lived with her grandmother, Ceresa, whom had been the granddaughter of one of Titan's founding fathers but expulsed from the Capitol after the revolution with all her belongings – an extremely lucky punishment. She was filthy rich. Katie helped out in the gardens with some of the more risky and harder to grow grains. Her hair was always messily out and falling around her face in loose curls. She was the prettiest flower in the garden. . .ever.

"Travis?"

Travis snapped out of his Katie stupor and turned to face the person talking to him, Miss Gadess. Travis realized the last school bell of the year had rung and his ass was still in his seat, nobody but him in the classroom.

"Oh, sorry Miss, have a good summer." He blurted out as he got his things and left the classroom.

"Good luck tomorrow, Travis!" Ms. Gadess said as he exited and just as he turned around to reply he ran right into something.

"Won't you watch where you're going, Travis!"

Ah. . . he ran into Katie.

Katherine

Katherine blushed as she realized how she probably looked right now. The fall had sent her shirt riding up and her hair flying. At least Travis's back had taken the fall of the two of them flying to the floor. She sat up harshly and glared at the brunette in pain below her. She straddled him as he let out an airy moan of pain and placed his hands on her thighs while he mumbled something. She wiggled in his lap looking for her bag as she said, "What?"

"Stop moving. . . gods that hurt."

Katherine blushed at what he meant and quickly stopped. "Well, then let go of me and I'll get off."

He opened one of his closed eyes at her and smirked. "What if I don't want you to?"

"Travis!" Katherine growled in irritation as she got off and grabbed her school bag off the floor where he'd caused her to drop it.

"Sorry," he said as he sat up, rubbing his head. Her concern for him outweighed her anger.

"You okay?" she asked, "Where's Connor? You two are always together."

"No idea, I got outta class late and ran into you." Travis finally stood up, towering over her with his 5,10 height. He looked good today. He'd chosen to wear a blue shirt and it made his hazel eyes look darker. His jeans were ripped at the knees and his white sneakers could be mistaken for grey.

"Well, now you know to watch where you're going." She said, wiping some dust off his shoulder and readjusting her bag on her shoulder.

"Nah, I'll never know how to do that." Travis said distractedly as he swiped a strand of her from out of her eyas and behind her ear.

She rolled her eyes lovingly at him.

"What? It's the truth!" He protested.

She shook her head at him. "Okay, Stoll, I'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice day."

Travis looked like he had seen something and remembered he had to do something. "Wait!"

Katherine looked behind her just to catch Connor whistling innocently. They were up to something.

"Yes?" she answered in doubt.

"Katie . . .I was, um, wondering if you'd like to do something with me sometime, maybe tonight?"

Katherine had always loved that nickname. She pretended that it annoyed her just for Travis, but truly, she couldn't like it more. But she took a moment to process what he'd just asked. "Like, a date?"

Travis looked like he was thinking and yelling at someone behind her and found Connor a few ways away giving a thumbs up. "Yeah. . .like a date. Would you?"

Katherine took a minute to think about it. She'd had a miniature (okay, slightly huge) crush on Travis since he'd started calling her Katie. She wasn't about to say no. . . but the Reaping.

Screw the reaping. "Yes. What are we doing tonight?"

Travis looked like someone had shocked him. "Whatever you want, Katie, my lady." he said, smiling brightly and giving Connor a typical Stoll's 'I did it!' face. Katherine shook her head and smiled just as brightly.

"Come on then, I'm teaching how to garden."

Let me know if you liked it, please review.

love,

Vickydd