Buckingham Shine, District One Female, 18 years old

It doesn't take long for Twinkle to burst in, tears streaming down her red and puffy eyes. Our mother follows behind her, silent with her eyes on the floor. I open my arms wide for a hug which Twinkle gladly accepts, nestling herself in my arms. She hugs me tightly as she keeps crying and I run my hand through her hair, squeezing her back in an attempt to comfort her. I know I'm making my own choice but it's hurting her, that much is evident.

"It'll be fine Twinkle," I say softly, continuing my methodical strokes in her hair, "I'll be coming home to see you again."

She inhales sharply and shakes her head softly, "That's what Burgundy said..."

She begins to cry more now, I can feel her body trembling.

"Shh, I know, I know he did," I reply, rocking her slightly, "But I promise I will."

She looks up at me and I can see how devastated she looks. I feel bad - if I die it'll destroy her. Good thing I'm not planning on dying anytime soon.

I lead her to the couch and we sit down, her in my lap. She makes me promise and I reaffirm that I'll do my best. She reaches up into her hair and takes out the bow accessory and hands to me after taking out the safety pin that acted like a fastener. She intends for this to be my token and I gladly accept it.

I look over at my mother who sits beside us, hands in her laps. "I'll do my best," I say and she nods.

"I know you will."

We then have a group hug, staying in it until it's time for them to go. I'll fight for Twinkle and my mother - they deserve glory even more than I want it.

Diamond Gold, District One Male, 15 years old

My father hasn't stopped congratulating me. He keeps telling me tips and tricks about what to do in the arena and for a second I almost forgot that he was a training at the academy long ago. We sit on the couch and he has an arm slung around my shoulder, presenting me to my mother and Emerald.

"Just think," He says, voice booming in the room, "To have two victors as sons? We will be important!"

He doesn't get a response from our other family members.

Emerald doesn't even look at me, instead he looks out of the window. He hasn't looked at me since I passed him on stage. I'm doing this to be just like him - can't he see that? Why won't he acknowledge me?

My mother sits in the chair opposite the couch, looking at nowhere in particular but definitely not us. She's made herself seem smaller than she actually is.

"What do you think Love?" My father asks her, trying to generate some conversation, "That'd be great, right?"

My mother looks up at us, looking at me in what I can only think to refer to as disgust before glaring at my father. "You promised you wouldn't let him volunteer," She says, her voice cold and strangely quiet.

My father laughs awkwardly, "I can't help it - if he wants to go for it, who am I to stop him?"

"You promised," She repeats, voice getting louder slowly, "I can't go through this again, you promised me I wouldn't."

"Go through what?" My father responds, his voice getting louder, "Are you trying to stop our son from achieving his dream?

My mother stands up, "I didn't eat for the whole time Emerald was in the arena." I remember that - she was so worried it was wasting her away. "And you promised me you'd never let Diamond volunteer."

"Well Emerald didn't stay with the Careers. Diamond will and-"

"And then what?" My mother says, shouting at this point, "Do you think they'll let him live? He's fifteen for crying out loud! They'll use him for all he's worth and then he'll kill him! You're letting our son kill himself!"

My father doesn't get time to respond as the peacekeepers burst in, escorting my mother out. It's clear Emerald agrees with her as he follows behind. The peacekeepers ask my father to leave and he gives me a reassuring squeeze, telling me not to worry about my brother or mother.

As the door closes and I'm left on my own I begin to realise just how weak they think I am. I'll have to prove them wrong.

Calamity Haldor, District Two Female, 18 years old

My parents can't stop raving and they wouldn't, even if I tried to. I sit on the couch opposite them, sitting respectfully like they've taught me to. I listen intently to each word they speak, making sure to take everything in.

They talk about strategies they've seen in previous Games, tips and tricks they've learnt from reading guides on the Games straight from the Capitol and relaying information they've heard from the training centre.

They want the best for me, that much is certain, but I can't help but wonder what they'll tell Calloway when they go and visit him. Will they tell him different things to me? Maybe give him tips that are useless or have they withheld knowledge that'll be imperative to my survival? In fact, my mind wanders to Calloway halfway through the help they attempt to give and suddenly I start to feel anxious. Not because I'm scared of the Games, no, but because it's beginning to dawn on me that I'll be entering a life or death competition with my brother. Every bit of knowledge given to me and him will differentiate us and will influence who lives longer.

My parents outstretch their arms for a hug and I gladly accept after a few seconds of me trying to return to the room and not the arena. They wrap my arms around me and we share a tight, warm embrace.

"No matter what happens," My father says, gaze starting on my mother and then landing onto me, "We're incredibly proud of you Calamity - you'll do us proud."

I nod, smiling, "Thank you, I'll make sure I will."

My mother kisses my forehead and runs a hand across the perimeter of my face, after all, this could be the last time they see me (though I'm sure it won't be). I wave them goodbye and walk over to the window. In a few weeks I'll be coming back here as Calamity Haldor, Victor of the 70th Hunger Games.

Calloway Haldor, District Two Male, 18 years old

Cassius and Candor visit me whilst my parents are visiting Calamity. It's refreshing to see my siblings. The room's lavish but it's cold, unnerving me slightly when I think about how many dead people have come into this room. I don't pay too much thought to that though, no, instead I play with my siblings.

It's clear when they came in that they had the intent on making this goodbye enjoyable, more of a 'see you later' rather than the goodbyes the other tributes will get. For a portion of the time, Cassius and myself engage in a play fight in which I let him win - dramatising a punch to my chest and flopping onto the couch with an exaggerated groan. This earns a laugh out of him and he attempts to sit on my stomach in victory. I let him for a few seconds before pulling him away and walking over to Candor to her some attention.

I pick her up and place her on my shoulders. She might be ten but riding on my shoulders is still one of her most favourite things to do. I don't mind it - it shows we're close and I'm always happy to oblige. I do a few laps of the room and she giggles, holding tightly onto my head. She jumps down when we're done and I bring them into a bear hug.

"What happens if Calamity's the only other one alive?" Cassius asks, his head tilting a little.

I shrug, "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it - make sure you go and have as much fun with her!"

They both nod, giving me another tight hug each before scampering out of the room.

My parents will be here any moment and I can't help but wonder whether or not they've told Calamity she can beat me if she tries. I'll be protecting her, that's for sure but I'm not too convinced she'll be protecting me. Only time will tell.

Delta Mono, District Three Female, 17 years old

Gage won't stop crying, even when I try to calm him down. I've never seen him like this, not once in my life. When our father and sisters died he was silent. Silent and strong. When our mother died he didn't even bat an eyelid. When we were moved to the slums of District Three? He reassured me and held me until I went to sleep at night. My strong, unmovable brother is crumbling before my eyes and I can't do anything to help him.

I hug him tightly, rubbing his back in circular motions as I try to reassure him.

"I've got a chance," I say, trying to sound sure in my words when in reality I know I can't trust them, "I'm one of the older tributes and I am smart, I can just kill from afar."

"You don't know how to use a weapon," He says through sharply inhaled breaths.

"I'll learn in training," I say, "I'll pick one and make sure I learn it thoroughly."

He looks at me, half in doubt but also half knowingly. He knows that, if I put my mind to something, I can be a quick-learner but that's only in academics. I can tell - and I think the same - he doesn't think it's applicable to weaponry.

"Just promise you won't be a Corn' death," He says, looking away, trying to conceal the tears that threaten to resurface.

I nod, turning his head so he can see me nod, "I won't, promise. I aim to be at least final fifteen."

It's a low goal, when you think about it, but if I can stay alive long enough to help someone then I'll be content.

"Final five - please Delt."

I sigh, nodding slower, "Final five."

Melvin Morris, District Three Male, 13 years old

There's mixed reactions in the goodbye room. I, bar the circumstances as to why I'm here, love it. Everything is so neatly arranged, so perfect. It gives me satisfaction just thinking about it. Everything serves a purpose in this room, whether that be practical or aesthetic, and I can't help but feel like this is a place I truly belong. I make mental notes - maybe I can improve my room at home or at least get someone else to.

My parents are crying, holding each other and pitifully trying to tell themselves and me that we'll be okay. As much as their optimism fuels me and I say I'll live, I doubt that's the case. I'm thirteen - let's be realistic! My chances are low, I could probably calculate them precisely now, but it doesn't stop them trying to convince me otherwise.

Audra's a bit ambiguous in her behaviour. She can tell I admire the cleanliness of the room and it annoys her - I can see how tempted she is just to mess something up and pin it down to ten-year-old's curiosity but at the same time she's sad. I can't tell if she's sad because she'll genuinely miss me or sad because she won't have anyone to mess with, but she's gloomy and walks with heavy footsteps.

Guthrie and Julianne are remorseful. I don't think they ever thought that I'd be in this position and I don't think me needing to get some experience like they tell me to was in the form of being a tribute in the Hunger Games. Guthrie's extra remorseful because he didn't do anything when I called his name. I'm still mad about that but what would he do? Volunteer? No, he's smarter than that.

My parents envelop me in a hug, repeatedly telling me they're sorry for nothing in particular and how they're sure I can do it. The hug extends with Audra joins in and she nestles her face in my side. Probably wiping her tears which, if she is, will annoy me greatly later. Guthrie and Julianne are reluctant to join in the hug but, eventually, they do and we stay like this, motionless.

We've gone past our allocated spot and the peacekeepers tell my family to leave. My siblings detach easily and move towards the door, yet my parents don't. They hug me tighter and soon they're being ripped off of me.

The lasting image I have is my parents being dragged out of the room and my siblings looking at me with wide eyes as they're escorted out.

Stellar Madison, District Four Female, 14 years old

My parents don't say anything to me as we sit in the room. They weren't expecting me to volunteer today. They thought this moment would happen in four years time when, by their standards, I'd be fully developed and ready to enter the arena.

Vermillion's excited though. She bounces around the room, singing about how her big sister is about to go into the arena. She brings a smile to my lips. She's woke, she knows what'll happen - I'll win the Hunger Games and I'll come back home! Simple as that.

"You're foolish," My mother says, looking at me finally, "What were you thinking?"

I shrug, "I was thinking that I'll be able to win the Hunger Games."

"But you're fourteen Stellar."

"That hasn't stopped anyone before! We've had a fourteen year old winner!" I reason, smiling brightly in an attempt for them to see things from my side.

My mother just shakes her head as Vermillion interrupts my father before he can start speaking.

"Make sure you win! Make sure you make them turn on each other!" She says excitedly, clapping her hands.

"I will, promise!"

My parents look at me with worried expressions and they don't hesitate to get up, take Vermillion by the hands and escort her out of the room when it's time for them to go.

They do wish me luck, however, and before long I'm left alone thinking about how I'll win the Games.

I'll show them, make them realise they are the foolish ones for underestimating me.

In three short weeks, I'll become Stellar Madison, Victor of the 70th Hunger Games!"

Shelldon Flanders, District Four Male, 18 years old

For the majority of our allocated time together, my father doesn't say anything. Him and I are quite similar in that respect - we're both silent types and tend to communicate in more mutual gestures and expressions and silent words.

Judging from his face when I looked out on stage and from how he looks now I can tell he's worried. I know he'll walk straight back home tonight and closet himself up in our house. I don't think he'll see anyone for days.

It takes him a while, but eventually he speaks.

"Try your best, that's all you can do."

His words are solemn, calculated. I can tell he doesn't want to offend me just in case this is really what I want but at the same time he wants to be reassuring. He looks at me and I nod.

"I'll try my best, I promise."

He nods, satisfied by my response. He holds open his arms and I take the gesture and lean into a hug. Seeing as I'm not the biggest fan of human interaction I typically don't go for hugs, but this time I can make an exception for him.

He squeezes me and I think he anticipates the worst because when he pulls away and is told to leave he looks extremely fearful.

"Remember the promise," is all he's able to say before the doors close, potentially closing him out forever.

I sit on the couch and contemplate my chances. I've got a good chance - I'm strong physically and my use of a utility knife (and subsequently knifes in general) will give me an advantage.

At least I can comfortably say I'll do better than my district partner.

I had a lot of motivation to do this, so here we are!

I hope I did all of the tributes justice :)

There's not much more to say other than reviews make me happy~!

- Oli