Carter Smith POV
I spit the blood out of my mouth onto the mat. I wipe away the extra seeping from my mouth with my boxing glove. He's lucky he didn't knock out my teeth, then he'd be pissed since I wouldn't be presentable.
"Come on Carter, this is your last training here before the games." my dad says, keeping his hands up in fist. I shake my head to get my head back into the game. I put my hands up and get ready for the next punch, whether it's mine or his.
Slowly, we inch closer and closer to each other while bouncing on the balls of our feet. My father throws a quick punch at my head. I manage to dodge it.
"Good." my father mumbles. I go for a kick to the head, but my father grabs my leg and knocks me over. When I'm on the floor, I hit him in the back of my knee with my foot, making him fall down too.
I quickly pull myself up and throw a good punch at his head. But that's all he will put up with before he kicks me in the stomach and is on top of me. I squirm from underneath him as he hits me a few times, but not in the face this time. He stops and gets off. He starts to walk upstairs from the basement.
"You'd be dead if this were real, I hope you understand that." he says, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel hanging on the railing. Then he keeps walking up.
My father, Camden Smith, won the 40th Hunger Games. Now he wants me to win so I can follow in his footsteps. Honestly, I'd rather be one of the kids from a boring family in a small house that never even had to worry about the games. But I have the complete opposite. It's not that I don't appreciate it, I just don't think it's the life for me.
I don't want to kill.
I force myself up and walk over to a punching bag. I hit it a few times out of frustration. Slowly, the punches get harder and more intense. Finally it stops when the bag rips open, the stuffing pouring out onto the floor.
"It the only thing you can kill a bag?" I growl at myself. I'm never going to win unless I improve in the Capital.
"Carter! Breakfast!" my mother, Elsa, calls from upstairs.
"Okay!" I call back up. I take off all my gear and jog up the stairs.
Midnight Azagra POV
"Midnight! Wake up! You have to get ready for the reaping!" my twin sister, Livia says, shaking me. I groan and cover my eyes. I hate waking up early for the reaping. I don't care if it's a requirement…
Or that I'm this year's female volunteer.
I sit up and stare at my sister.
"Come on, out of my room." I growl, pointing at the open door. Livia rolls her eyes and starts walking towards the door.
"Okay Miss Grumpy." She says just loud enough for me to hear. I might not be as cheerful as my sister, but it got me to be able to go for the games a year before she does. My weak sister gets to have another comfortable year training and fattening up.
I get out of bed and walk down the stairs.
"Good morning Midnight! I made pancakes, your favorite!" my mother smiles at me. By that she means the chef in the kitchen made it and my mom is going to carry it out.
My mother, September Davies, won the 36th Hunger Games. Like my father, Jinx Azagra victor of the 34th Hunger Games, she killed twelve people total. Both my parents were vicious fighters. They did not showing mercy gave the Capital an amazing show. Like in the final two when my father took out the District One boy's eye with his bare hands. Or when my mother slowly chopped up the District Four boy in her own final two.
Some say I'm more vicious than them together.
"Cool." I say flatly. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and look to see my father. He seems pretty tired today. He's probably a bit nervous about how the reaping is going to go. He runs his figures throw his dark brown hair, like mine, and sits in his chair at the head of the table.
"Are you ready?" he asks me. I smirk at his question.
"I was born ready."
Reaping
Midnight stand with her sister in her age group, waiting anxiously for the reaping to start as the video played. Like District One, District Two has to see this video everyday, making it pretty boring for the children.
Midnight tried to entertain herself by mocking the Capital woman up on stage. She was wearing a skin tight red dress with yellow, green, orange, and blue flowers on it. To match it, she dyed her hair the same red velvet cupcake color and worn flowers in her hair that matched the ones on her dress. It didn't seem as over the top as it was last year.
Carter is also waiting. But instead of paying attention he mouths the words with a funny look on his face at the girl on the other side. They all giggle and watch him. The Peacekeepers don't stop Carter, knowing he is the son of a victor. Being a victor's child got you pretty far in the district. Especially if that person's father would rip you open if you so much as gave his kid the wrong look.
The video ends, causing cheering throughout the crowd.
"Okay, Okay. Now, time for the best part!" The escort says in a heavy Capital accent, "Ladies first!" The girls cheer. Midnight tenses up, waiting for the prank tribute's name to be called, "Nica Vale!"
Before anyone can even look at the girl, Midnight jumps up.
"I volunteer as tribute!" She yells. Her friends all smile at her and give her a thumbs up. The eighteen year olds seem upset since a seventeen year old is taking their last chance to be in the games. Midnight can't help but smirk at them.
She walks up to the stage. Her shimmering red dress flying behind her.
"What is your name honey?" The escort asks. Up close, Midnight can see how much makeup is covering her face. She tries to not let the pounds of lipstick bother her too much.
"Midnight Azagra." she says proudly. The escort's eye light up.
"The daughter of September Davies and Jinx Azagra?"
"Yes." Midnight smiles.
"What an honor to meet you! Guess you couldn't wait another year to follow in your parents' footsteps?" The woman laughs. Midnight smiles and laughs along with the crowd and the escort. The escort gets back on track, "Okay, sorry to keep you waiting ladies and gentlemen. Now for the boys!" Everyone cheers again. She pulls a name out of the big glass bowl, "Levi Quink."
A small boy steps out of the crowd. He must only be twelve years old. The kid looks around franticly as if to find a way out and the Peacekeepers walk up to him. Carter sits back, smirking.
The start to walk the boy up to the stage. Everyone in the audience looks around, waiting for the volunteer. The other boys know they'll be in trouble if they volunteer, so they have no choice but to watch the young boy inch closer and closer to the stage. Just as he gets to the steps of the stage, Carter raises his hand. Everyone lets out a sigh of relief.
"I volunteer as tribute!" Carter calls. The young boy is set free and Carter walks up to take his place.
"What is your name honey?" The escort asks the same way she did to Midnight.
"Carter Smith." he says, looking over at Midnight. He's heard about how powerful she and her parents are, but he knows he can hold up against her.
"Son of Camden Smith? My oh my what a lovely couple of tributes we have this year, huh folks?" says the Capital woman. Everyone cheers. The escort raises the tributes hands up and yells, "Ladies and gentlemen of District Two, your tributes, Midnight Azagra and Carter Smith!"