Hi guys, I only have three more districts and then it's the chariot rides, then the interviews, then the thing you've been waiting for, the Games! However, I am in need of assistance as I don't have any ideas for the outfits the tributes are going to wear. On my profile, there will be a little form which I would really like you to fill in and PM to me. I can't go any further without your help. It will ask you for the Name (on my profile), the District (also on my profile) and their chariot outfit and their interview outfit. Please PM me once you're done reading this chapter :)

Leanna Gibbs , 15

This is not how it was meant to be. If that little 12 year old girl was never reaped, I would have never taken her place. I've seen her around the town centre quite often, with her mother. I've seen her at school, as well. She couldn't have gone into the games, especially this year. She'd be ripped to shreds. Probably literally. She seemed so sweet that I couldn't let myself let her go to her death. In that split second of thinking, I volunteered to take her place. I'm such a fool. Now I'm going to die. At least I'll die knowing I saved the place of a young girl. Why am I thinking of death already? I should be trying to think of ways of winning. I'm not going to forget about the Reaping, ever.

I simply gave my mum a hug before leaving the house. I hadn't considered volunteering at the time. "See you in a bit, mum," I said, grabbing an apple before heading out the door. I met up with a bunch of girls from school before going to the signing-in desk. We all gave each other hugs before walking half an hour to the signing-in desk. We got there early as we didn't want to risk being late thanks to someone spreading round rumours saying all kinds of bad things happen to you if you're late.

Once we were settled, the escort walked on stage. I took one glance at her and nearly threw up. She was hideous. I didn't look at her until the actual reaping. She took out a slip. "Sophie Pembrooke," she read. I saw a small, 12 year old girl walk out of the crowd and onto the stage. I recognised her too well and I still don't forgive myself for what I did next.

"I volunteer," I cried. What have I just done? Nothing can change this scenario now. "Look," I started, "these games are just wrong. Sending a 12 year old girl off to kill 18 year old men? How is that even fair? Sophie, and everybody else in Panem, doesn't deserve this torture!" With that, I walked over to Sophie and gave her a hug. I told her she's safe for this year and that she didn't have to worry. I noticed a tear rolling down my cheek. It flowed into the corner of my mouth. It was bitter. As bitter as I feel towards the Capitol and these stupid Games. I walked over to the stage and just stood there.

"And what's your name?" the escort asks, with a bored expression on her face. I guessed she gets those types of stands a lot, watching them on Capitol TV.

"Leanna Gibbs," I replied. I just stood there, waiting for all this to end. I catch a glimpse of my mother and she's clutching onto her friend's arm, silently wailing. Poor mum, I'm her only child left. My older sister went into the games in these same circumstances a few years ago. She was 18 and a 12 year old was reaped. She was very tactical, however, as she joined the Careers, somehow, and managed to kill four out of the five of them in one night. While they were all sleeping and she was on watch, she got a knife and stabbed them all right in the head for quick kills, so they wouldn't wake up. However, she forgot about the cannons that rang out throughout the whole arena. She had to act fast. The last one woke up from the sound of the cannons just before she put a knife in his head and battled her until she died and came third place. She was so close. She could have made it and come back home. Fortunately, her killer was killed. When that Career tribute died, I mentally thanked the victor who killed him.

I waited in the Justice Building until my mother finally barged in through the door, breaking the silence. "How could you do that?" Great. She's angry. The last thing I wanted was for the last moment we have together to be in an argument. I calmed her down after two minutes of ranting on about how I'll just end up like my sister. Brilliant, now she's got her involved. Once I calmed her down, I told her I'd do anything to make sure I'd see her again.

I lay down on my bed, blubbering huge tears onto the pillow. I throw the pillow onto the floor out of anger but just end up crying like a little girl again. Someone knocks on the door. I clear my eyes and allow them to come in. The door opens and it's a man, I think. He has bright orange, spiky hair, bright green eyes and is in a blue jumpsuit.

"Who are you?" I ask, completely confused. He grabs a board and pen, connected by a wire to his belt buckle. He starts writing down something and I just get even more confused.

My name is Ransa. I am your personal avox. An avox? I think I've heard of them. Yes, I have. They're people who have disobeyed the capitol in some way and their punishment is to be either executed or made an avox. If I remember correctly, becoming an avox means getting your tongue cut out and forever remaining mute, and serving for the Capitol every day and every night. It think I'd prefer death to be honest. He points to the pillow and picks it up. He takes it away with him and comes back with a new pillow. One without tear stains and rips all over it. That's actually really sweet. I didn't even ask him to do that. I thank him and bid him goodnight. He bows and leaves the room, leaving me on my own. I hit my head on the pillow softly and my head switches off, leaving me to my dreamy thoughts.

Jasper Morgenstern, 12

I can't believe this happened to me. I'm only 12 and I'm being forced to compete in the 125th Hunger Games, also known as the fifth Quarter Quell. I'm being forced to kill others so I can see my family again. I have no chance. I'm a 12 year old, going up against 18 year olds, who have most likely trained for this particular event. I'm sure to die. I know I'm going to die at the bloodbath. All these thoughts bring me to my knees while I'm in my bedroom on the train. I lie down on my bed and try to process what just happened no less than three hours ago.

"Don't worry, dad," I giggled, trying to reassure father, "my name's only been in there three times. Once because I have to and the other two for the tesserae for us. There's a tiny chance I'll be reaped. Don't worry," I repeat, "I'll be back for dinner." Boy, was I delusional. I walked over to the woods to meet up with my friends from school so we could all sign in together. None of us had a smile on our face so I gestured to go and they all followed suit. We walked over, arm over shoulder in some cases, signed in and waited in the 12 year old section. I look at my friend next to me and give him a reassuring smile. "It won't be either of us," I whisper. He replied with a struggled smile.

Obviously, I was feeling very anxious and nervous, but I felt slightly confident as I didn't have many slips in the bowl. When our escort walked out, I didn't know what to think. She had green eyes and green hair with bangs on a plump, round face with very full lips. Her hair was very curly at the bottom. She named herself Alessandra Roland, but told everyone to call her Ales. I don't even think I would be able to pronounce her full name properly. Her dress was very animal-like. She called it cheetah-print (I still don't know what a cheetah is). She started going on about how she hated her job, complaining that she never even wanted it but she had to take it because of family tradition and honour.

She called the girl. I didn't even hear the name of the girl before I heard "I volunteer" from a 15 year old girl. We all turned our heads to see a girl with a tear rolling down her face. She started giving a speech but I couldn't hear it. She walked up to the 12 year old girl that was originally reaped and gave her a hug and told her she didn't have to worry anymore. I don't think they're related, though. Her name is Leanna Gibbs. Our first volunteer for, I don't even know how long. She stood on the stage, waiting for the male tribute to be reaped. The escort walked over to the male's bowl and I could hear every boy in the District take one, sharp intake of breath.

"Jasper Morgenstern," she belted. It took me a while to adjust but once I realised it was I who was called, I walked up to the stage, as confidently as I could appear to be. I realised that I can now proudly show my father that I am worth of the Morgenstern name. Before I knew it, I was on stage, giving a handshake to Leanna and being escorted into the Justice Building.

My dad walked in, sobbing. He gave me a hug and told me that I could win this, if I stay sharp and stick to the island. We chatted until our time was up about our memories involving mother, before she died. Once dad left, I was on my own.

I come back to reality and I'm on my bed on the train. The train leading me to my death. I try to take my mind off the subject and drift off to sleep. I need it.