AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGHHH!

I'm such a liar. A promise breaker. Take me away and send me to jail for crimes against updating a day late! I don't mean to be using technology as a scapegoat (Actually, I do...), but THE COMPUTER DID IT! It's screen stopped working, and we now have to take it to the computer , I always work off Doc Manager, so all my stuff is accessible via any computer! So, I found another computer in my house, but halfway through writing the internet went down! For two weeks! Very unfair on my poor readers...

I hate technology. Hate it.

Oh, and a language warning on this chapter: A certain angry tribute may say a few bad words. I know I swore in the last chapter and didn't put up a language warning, but still.

Astridge Fabons

67, 68, 69, 70...

I counted each sit up silently under my breath. I could feel the hot sweat dripping down my forehead. I gritted my teeth and pulled in my stomach, refusing to let the burn of my muscles swallow me up and make me stop moving for even a moment. I jumped to my feet and ran to the other side of the training room, and then back again, breathing hard.

I barrelled into a stack of training dummies, scattering them several feet in every direction. I snatched up a sword from the rack and slashed the nearest dummy from top to tail, little Styrofoam balls exploding in every which way, dancing in the around me like snow. I brushed the stuffing away from my face and stabbed another dummy three times in quick succession. More stuffing went flying. I tackle another into the floor and stabbed it too. The snowstorm of stuffing whirled around me as I slashed my way through the dummies.

"You know they only have a limited supply of those." A voice broke my concentration and I spun around to see my Father standing in the doorway, a bemused look on his face.

"They can get more." I replied, kicking a severed dummy arm across the room, scattering foam. I watched as my blizzard began to sink around me, settling at my feet. I couldn't help but feel annoyed that he'd interrupted my personal snowstorm.

"There's only half an hour till the reapings begin," Dad held up a plastic bag and shook it "I brought you something to wear." He tried to smile at me and I scowled back."You're not volunteering dressed in a tank top and leggings on my watch."

I raked my hands through my hair and sighed deeply.

"I'm not doing this for you, y'know. When I win, it's going to be for Jace. Whoever those District 1 tributes are, they are going to pay for killing my brother." I clenched my jaw and stabbed my sword into the ground. "I'm going to hunt them down, and kill them. I'll watch them suffer, just like that Gossamer bitch watched Jace writhe on the ground."

"Darling," He walked over to me and put an arm around my shoulder, "I completely understand what you're going through, and if you want to enter the games, that's your choice. But I'm not sure your motives are right. We all miss Jace just as much as you, but this revenge could mean that we lose-"

"It's not revenge" I interrupted, "Its justice. Justice for what they did to him, for what they did to my family. Mum used to be happy, she used to talk to people, and now all she does is stare at the wall. Jace was supposed to win. He'd been training since he was 3. He was going to go down in history as one of the most famous victors in Panem's history. He had a girlfriend, and that District 1 bitch took that all away from him! From us! I know that Jace would want one thing; justice."

Tears were dripping down my face and I wiped them away angrily. Jace wouldn't have wanted me to cry. I had to be strong; I had to be a warrior. My brother's warrior.

Lars Bon

Saturday morning. Reaping day. I'd been waiting for this day for over a year. So why was I still lying on a bench with fifteen minutes until the reapings? Good question. I wasn't really sure myself.

You could normally find me lying on this bench on Saturday mornings, right after training. It was blue, made of wood and at the perfect height for looking up the skirts of passing girls, if you put your head at the right angle. Plus, it was really, really comfortable.

I guess you could say that I was saying goodbye to my bench. I wouldn't get to lie on this bench again until after the games, and even then I probably wouldn't have much opportunity to come to the training centre to lie on the bench. We'd been good mates over the years, and it was probably about time I thanked it for years of being able to perve on hot girls and have naps in public.

Ding Ding Ding!

The bell signifying the beginning of the reapings rung clear across the town. Crap, crap, and holy crapness- I was going to be late for my own Reaping Day. I bounded off the bench, gave it a quick pat and ran like I was being chased by mutts.

I could hear the Mayor's speech droning over the loudspeakers on every street sign. I rounded a corner just in time to hear him finish. Bolting closer to the square, I could already see that the female tribute had mounted the stage and the escort was raising his hand as if he were too-

"I volunteer!" I yelled as loud as my lungs allowed. I pushed through the crowd, shoving my way to the stage. The Mayor gave me a disparaging look up and down.

"Name?" He said curtly, biting his lip.

"Lars," I puffed "Lars freaking Bon"

"Ooh!" Piped up the escort from behind us, "Your last name is almost her last name!" He pointed at my District Partner and giggled, evidently proud of himself for making such an intelligent observation.

I turned to face my District partner, and my jaw dropped.

It was Astridge. Astridge Fabons. Of all the girls that could have volunteered, Astridge did.

I'd always had a thing for Astridge. In fourth grade we were partners for the Districts of Panem assignment. We got District 11. What can I say? She was pretty, smart and great at cutting out cardboard fruit. I was smitten. Out of all the girls I know, she's the only one who's ignored my advances (Though I don't think she noticed them in the first place.) Still, I had wanted to marry her. I'd even come up with a couple name; Larstridge Fabonbon. And now any chance I'd ever had to get the girl of my dreams was down the toilet.

But I didn't cry. I didn't shout out. I smiled. I shook her hand. My insides surged, and I felt like I was going to vomit.

Woop woop!

Another chapter down! Haha!

If you have a song that you think would be good for me to listen to whilst I write your tribute, send it in!

Also, some food for thought, because I'm feeling very philosophimical right now:

You and your best friend are stuck at a cross road with two paths. If you walk down the path on the right, you will experience the worst, hellish world of pain and sadness and everything bad for an hour, before coming out unscathed surrounded by treasures beyond your wildest dreams. If you walk down the path on the left, you will experience the best hour of your life, with everything you could ever dream of included, before suddenly dying. But here's the catch: You and your best friend each have to go down different paths. Which one do you choose?

Review with your answer! :)