I am so sorry about the terribly long wait! I feel horrible that it's been three months since I've updated anything, but I've just been super buisy and had a ton of writer's block for this particular chapter. Because of said writer's block, this chapter is a lot shorter and absolutely nothing interesting happens. I went ahead and cut out the bit that I was having difficulties in and decided that it wasn't necessary. The only reason why I've gone and posted this is because I felt that the work I put in shouldn't go to waste and that you guys should all know that I am, indeed, still alive ( ;) Diabowserker...). I will try my hardest to make sure that I get the chapters done quicker, but my schedule is extremely hectic my first year in high school so I can't make any promises.

You guys have waited long enough, so here is the pitiful chapter I spent forever on. Now I'm excited 'cause things will (hopefully) be more interesting now.

Chapter 7 – Reaping Recaps (Once again, I'm dry out of chapter titles…)

-Willow Salvador, District 5-

My stomach grumbles, yearning for more. I've never eaten this much food before, never had the opportunity to. Grandpa and Grandma do the best they can, and I chip in when I have the time, but it is hard to make a living. We're poor, very poor, and we hardly ever have anything to eat each day. 'Course, being a small family of three, we had it better than some, as hard as it is to believe. And I may never see my small family again….

Eager to fill my stomach, I spoon more of the soup into my awaiting mouth. It splashes over my tongue, warm, salty, and a hint of mushrooms. I've never eaten food this rich before, either.

After the third course, I can't stuff anymore down my throat. I gently push my plate away and then sit back, folding my hands in my lap.

On my right is Yawk Sky, my district partner. I hope we can be allies. Maybe. I just know that I won't make it very far on my own, though I'd much rather work by myself. I don't normally do well around others. Although he does seem like he might be a nice person, so it's a possibility.

But there will be time to figure out alliances later. And odds are he won't want to be an ally with little, scrawny me anyway.

Across from me sits our mentor. Being from District 5, there have only been a total of four Victors in the entire history of the Hunger Games. Two have already died, and the third is on maternity leave. So Yawk and I are stuck with just Agge Marrs.

She is a stiff, thick woman with a serious face and beaklike nose. Agge won the 72nd Games at age thirteen, but that's about as much as I know about her. Though she doesn't seem to talk much, she's proven helpful. Already, she has taught us two lessons for the Games: eat whatever you can, and silence can be the difference between life and death. I've already got the silence part down, but by the pointed looks she keeps giving me I seem to have failed the eating portion. I can't help but cringe under her glare.

Then there is a vacant seat where Bort the escort should be sitting. I've seen him all but ten minutes. When he drew our names. Period. Agge was the one who showed us around the train and brought us to dinner. Bort is so skinny though; I don't think he eats very often. Yet he has food at his disposal everywhere he goes, while I've never had a full meal at all one time in my life until now. I decide that I don't like him.

While I rest in my chair and think, Agge and Yawk continue to shovel down food. I'm not quite sure how they can fit all of it in their stomachs without exploding, but they seem to manage up until the final dessert. I notice that Yawk's face has a greenish tinge as he eats the chocolate cake that's drowning in hot fudge, but Agge tosses the whole thing down in only two bites. I wonder what it's like for her, having been in the arena and, odds are, seeing death right before her eyes. Does she still have nightmares of the way her allies died? Of the people she killed? I don't know how I'm going to stand watching people die, let alone killing them myself.

After dinner, we all go into a different compartment filled with couches bursting at the seams with stuffing and a large television hanging on the wall. I settle into an overflowing pouffe while Yawk and Agge go to the couch to watch the replays of all the different districts' reapings.

Agge pulls out a pad of paper and pen to take notes on the tributes, but I choose to just rely on my photographic memory and observation. After all, I won't be able to take a list of the tributes with me into the arena, so I might as well memorize them now.

The anthem plays, showing the Capitol seal, and then up pops District 1's reapings. I instantly focus and pick out the necessary details of the tributes, strictly only capturing the information I might need to recognize them.

First reaped for the 89th Hunger Games is Rowena Hemlock. She appears to be several inches taller than me, but my age. I find that I'm relieved to know I'm not the only twelve-year-old in this Game.

First reaped for the 89th Hunger Games is Rowena Hemlock, several inches taller than me, and she's my age, too. I find that I'm relieved to know I'm not the only twelve-year-old in the Games. Her hair is worn back in a ponytail so long it looks like it might even be touching the floor occasionally as it swings back and forth with her steps. Her smile to the crowd is bright, glad to have been chosen to have the chance at bringing glory to her family. For some reason, though, I don't really believe her. Maybe we could be allies, I think.

The male tribute, Zayden Merk, is then called up, but, expectantly, there is almost instantly a volunteer. He has chestnut hair cropped short, isn't super buff like most male Careers, and has long legs that suggest the ability to run fast. He declares his name to be Knox Marquis, and then a ripple stirs through the crowd, everyone whispering. I make the note to figure out what's up with that.

The rest of the reapings move by quickly, until District 5's comes up. My reaping. I cringe into the fat cushion.

Even though this is the second time I've heard my name called to be a tribute, my breathing still speeds and heart beats frantically. Onscreen, my knees are shaking as I stand in front of the crowd, my hands wringing from nerves and worry. Then Yawk is called up and the attention is drawn from me. Well, at least I didn't faint, cry, or run away screaming… The humor is dry even in my own mind and does nothing to cheer me up. Agge doesn't make any comments on neither Yawk nor me, and the room stays silent as the rest of the reapings play.

That night, I don't sleep a wink.

Please review! I love all you guys and apologize so much for the inconvenience. And this skimpy chapter can in no way make it up, but I will do my best in the later chapters. I promise!

-Tasting Raindrops-