Hey, welcome back. Today I have Saxon Jones from Tnejn (District 2). I also have a few announcements. First off, the person who reserved was unable to submit so the District Nine spot is open. Regarding reservations, I am giving everyone who has reserved a spot until the 27th of June. I know people are busy and I think that is fair. If you need more time, let me know.

Also, about the Districts in England, I have started putting Tnejn (District 2) because I understand it might be confusing plus to the people in Panem, they shall be referred as Districts 1-12 to stop confusion.

Anyway, on with the chapter. Below is the sponsor system and FYI, I had to do a good bit of research into child labour in brick mills. It was a dark time.

Tnejn (District Two), Brick Mill, Day of the Reaping

Saxon kept his eyes closed as he heard the quickened footsteps of his little brother, Benor, pad along the floor of the kiln room, giggling as he did so. The room was silent by the time he reached ten and uncovered his dark, chocolate brown eyes. The brick factory he worked in allowed little sunlight, the only source being the small, dirt-covered windows that illuminate the walkway above. The building was small, only allowing about four people in at a time and the air was filled with the pungent smell of burning coal. Most of the time when the fire was burning, the large, wooden doors would be propped open, filling the stations with light and allowing fresh air to fill the workers lungs rather than the suffocating black smoke. The brick kiln was a death trap. They would employ young men as they were big enough to crawl into the mouth of the kiln and lay the bricks out perfectly. However, within ten years, most of the boys died of lung cancer or at least had series lung conditions. This was the future Saxon and his younger brother was facing, every time they breathed in the thick, black smoke, they came closer to death. Sadly, it was paid work and no work for children their age in Tnejn (District 2) was safe. They were not as lucky as other Districts in England. The only ones that were worse for child labour were Disgha (District Nine), where children worked in flour mills, Tnax (District 12), where children worked in mines and Tmienja (District 8), where children made clothes with heavy machines. All resulted in the death of children but all paid well. At least Saxon and Benor got to go outside and if they fell asleep, wouldn't die a horrible, painful death by the hands of a machine.

However, the possibility of painful death always looming over his head meant that when he got days like this, where they loaded up the kiln rather that kept the fire stock, he could appreciate them.

"Ready or not here I come-" Saxon's eye fell on a small shadow that was cast on the wall behind the kiln. "I found you Benor," Saxon sighed, walking over to the shadow.

"No, you didn't-"

"Dude, I can see your shadow," Benor poked his head out from behind the large, stone kiln and frowned.

"You are not fun at this Game, Saxon-"

"And neither are you, let's play something else," Benor was not really Saxon's brother, the brick factory only employed orphans, no one to complain and start an uprising if they died. The two boys had been put together two years ago when Saxons old mentor died of a respiratory infection. He was only nineteen, a year older than Saxon. At first, he hated Benor, his happy go lucky demeanour out of place in such a deadly work environment. However, he quickly warmed to the sweet, well-meaning boy and started to see him like a little brother. He tried everything to get the boy away from the fate of his mentor but he was never moved to a less dangerous job, like moulding the bricks. He even moved into the same room as Saxon due to his persistent nightmares about his families death in the quarry.

Every morning, around three, Saxon would awake first, making sure he and Benor got the first bath of all the children. He would then wake up Benor for a bath. He himself would only wash his hands, not having time for both of them to have a wash. Once the brick dust and coal were washed from their cut and battered hands, they would be seated at the table where they would be handed one, single, warm potato, sometimes in the summer, it was cold. It was the only food they would have until eleven that night, all they had to get them through the day. At the end of the work day, around ten at night, Saxon would carry seven year old Benor back to the orphanage in his arms, playing a game of counting how many brick trucks went past to stop him falling asleep before his final meal of the day, three rounds of stale bread, just to settle his stomach for the night. They received their ration booklets from the government but the orphanage took them, spending them on the owners and only spending a small amount on the children who owned them. Every year, on their birthday, the children would receive one breast of chicken. It was a small amount and most of the time the children got beckoned into sharing but it was worth the small wait. Worth surviving another a year for.

"What game are we going to play?" Benor asked the older, dark haired boy, his green eyes heavy.

"Count the bricks," Saxon laughed, ducking through the small hole in the kiln, carrying four, wet bricks in his hand. Once he was inside, the orange bricks lit by flickering candlelight, he stacked the bricks on top of some others and turned around to see an angered Benor looking back at him.

"There are so many-"

"Well I can't count them, you are best counter in the country," Saxon smiled at the smile boy, his toothy grin.

"I am getting good...aren't I?"

"Sure are, better get counting then bud," Benor didn't hesitate, turning to the walls of bricks around him and started to count while Saxon leant against a wall, giving the boy a helping hand when he got stuck and noting it down. The boy could only count up to ten so he counted in sets of ten. He was up to his seventh set when a group of wardens and requested Saxon's presence in the manager's office. Not wanting a whipping, Saxon complied.

He had been called up to the manager's office a few times, when he first joined, when his old mentor died and when Benor joined him. However, he knew straight away that this was different. When he had climbed the metal stairs to the office, he could see a crowd of soldiers stood to attention in the warmly lit room. They turned in unison to look at him, they dark eye seemingly glaring into his soul. Saxon turned to walk away but the wardens pushed him on. One of the soldiers inside the office opened the door for him as he was forced into the room, stumbling in front of the manager's desk.

"Saxon Jones?" the chubby man behind the desk asked, shoving a flour covered cake into his mouth with such force, Saxon was shocked he wasn't suffocating. The sut covered boy gave a nod, his tattered, smelly clothes repelling most of the soldiers from being near him. "Awesome, you will be going with these men," the manager said through a mouthful of food, gesturing to the men. Saxon glanced over and frowned.

"What about Benor, sir-"

"Who?"

"Benor Fields, the boy I work with, what will happen to him?" the manager seemed to ponder this for a moment before giving a quick shrug.

"I don't know boy, depends if you come back or not-"

"Come back from where?" the boy bellowed, his short temper getting the best of him in the agitated situation.

"Stop asking questions boy and do as you are told!" the manager screamed, slamming his fist into the table. The room fell silent after that, tears brewing in Saxon's eyes as he looked at the open door a little to his left. "Listen, I am sorry, I don't like losing one of my workers either-" Saxon darted out of the door too fast for anyone to catch him. He almost leapt down the staircase and ran back towards the kiln to find Benor, refusing to allow them to take him. His mind was racing with what it could be. Maybe it was jail, but Saxon had not done anything wrong. Maybe it was because of his age, being eighteen they might have been transferring him to the workhouse to make way for new blood.

He was metres away when he made it to the kiln, screaming out for Benor. The blonde haired boy popped his head out of the building, his eyes widening.

"Saxon?" he cried, clearly frightened by the stream of soldiers that were running after him. Saxon could hear them closing in on him but whenever he tried to run faster, his legs would scream out in let out a squeal as one soldier grabbed Saxon from behind, stabbing a syringe into his neck and releasing the clear liquid into the bloodstream. Saxon still continued to kick and fight but with every second, his limbs became heavier and the world became darker.

Atlantic Ocean, Day Two of Trip to Panem.

Saxon had no reason to trust the people around him. He only ever trusted Benor and he had been torn away. These people were nothing to him, just loud children of all ages he was forced to go to this magical place with. All he knew is that it was some sort of Games, the victor receiving whatever they wished. The first thing that popped into Saxon's head was the promise of freedom for him and Benor. A chance to be free of the deathly kiln room and live their life however they wanted. However, when his manager said it depended on if he came back or not, he was assuming it wasn't a simple game like the football the workers used to play at Christmas when they got the day off. This was going to mean some of the children never came home. Also, the way the man with the American accent had called them tributes made them sound more like a sacrifice than contestants. Saxon knew one thing, if it was a game of solidarity, he was going to win. He had already turned most of the children against him due to his quick fuse and stress. It happened a lot but being so close to all of them made him sick.

The silent children started to scream with excitement when the roof above them opened revealing the blue sky above. At the same time, the screen flickered back to the American man who was covered in glitter this time.

"Sunlight is important for growing children," he grinned, " so, every day for an hour, you will be given you a daily dose of sunlight along with three meals a day!" at the moment, a large crate was dropped into the room, the smell of cooked egg. The American man thanked the tributes and flashed off the screen, leaving them to their breakfast.

"Chicken omelettes!" Ellie screaming with joy, taking a tub at a time and throwing them to each person in the room. She threw one to Saxon, along with a fork, the warm, plastic tub landing on his lap. He was hesitant at first until he saw Margaret tucking into hers and opened the lid. The steam hit him along with the mouth watering smell of the large omelette. He pulled free a small piece of chicken from the fluffy, yellow egg it was encased in and popped it in his mouth. His eyes widened at the taste as he took his fork and stabbed it into the egg.

Within a few minutes, Saxon had eaten over half of it, earning some strange looks from the other tributes. The truth was, Saxon wasn't sure he had ever seen so much food and that along with the underlying fear that someone would take it from him, he couldn't shovel it down his mouth any faster. However, his stomach did not agree with it.

At first, Saxon thought he was just having indigestion but when he started to heave, he knew what was coming. A few seconds later, his stomach contents forced it's way through his body and splattered on the floor. Syra and a few other tributes pulled a face while Margaret looked liked she was about to do that same.

"You need to eat less, your body is not that used to so much food," Halien said, looking at the food. "Also, take it slow next time," and with that, the door of the container opened, cleaners rushing in to wipe up his mess.

Right, sponsor system!

Sponsors work a bit different for this story. Each tribute will be given a bag along with their weapon. That bag is packed by their Panem District counterpart. For example, someone from Weihed will be sponsored by District One. What is in that bag depends on YOU! You will be able to earn sponsor points throughout the story. Here is how.

-Answer the Questions at the end of each chapter (various points)

-Review (1/2 a point). I don't want to seem like I am asking for reviews, hence why it is so small but it acts as my little thank you to the people who review my story.

-How rich the Panem District is (so from 4 points to 1 point).

-Alliance (Get a point for how many tributes your character allies with, however, it does put them in more danger).

-You start off with three points for submitting a character.

This is my first story and sponsor system so if there is anything you think I should change, please let me know. I think it is sound, though. For what you can get, I shall reveal that later on but it will be things like matches, water, food, rope.

Oh, your tributes also get sent one sponsor gift from home, their token so if you did not include one, be sure to send me that and I will add it to their pack.

Questions:

What were the names of Margaret's siblings? (3 points)

What was the name of the father of Margaret's baby? (2 points)

Thoughts on Margaret? (1 point)

Favourite part of Margaret's chapter? (1 point)

Thoughts on the chapter? (1 point)

Thoughts on how England works? (1 point)

What food did Saxon get every day? (2 points)

What was Saxon at risk from getting, working in the brick kiln? (2 points)

What happened to Saxon's parents? (3 points)

Thoughts on Saxon? (1 point)

Favourite part of Saxon's chapter (1 point)

Thoughts on this chapter? (1 point)