JayD's Note:

I forgot to mention, I don't own the Hunger Games or anything familiar. Just the characters and this plotline.

And this can count for the whole story because I'm lazyyyy. :3

Here go the Reapings. I'm going to have one as a girl from the Capitol watching 1-6, and a girl from the Capitol watching 1-6.

(POV: Capitol Boy)

It's time for the Games again! Last years' Games was boring. The tributes were plain, and so were the weapons. They were big sticks or something. I dunno. The Capitol Anthem plays on the flatscreen, along with the Capitol Seal. The announcer, Caesar Flickerman, who's been announcing for about 23 years, comments on how they're going to twist it up this year by going backwards from 12. Huh. I don't think they've don't that before.

I take a seat on the black leather couch and watch the TV screen. A big 12 appears on screen, then fades out to a dull-looking stretch of land. There's no grass, only coal settled in dirt and mud. Houses are run-down and falling apart. The only spot on the screen that looks decent is over the fence. There, I see fields of grass and trees and a deep blue pond. It takes up only a fourth of the screen, though, that field. The rest is bleak District 12. Scenes switch and a camera zooms into the town square.

Lots of people dressed in blacks and grays and creams gather in a rather ratty-looking space. Smoke constantly drifts by the cameras. Everyone onscreen seems like they're dead tired or starving, except for the District 12 Capitol chaperone, Ramona Trinket, who's hair is died a bright red and is wearing neon orange clothes. It hurts my eyes too look at her, it's like her suit is lighting up. Ugh. Some people in the Capitol overdo things way too much.

"Alright! Girls first!" Ramona chirps.

It's been a tradition that girls go first to be drawn for the games.

"Rain Adair! Come on up, Rain!" Ramona yells into the mic.

A medium-height girl, that looks about 14 with black hair and intelligent blue eyes that seem to stare into your mind, walks up. She seems confident but not arrogant. That's always good, I guess. The girl tosses up three fingers to her mouth, then turns it to the crowd, and about half throw it right back. The girl grins.

"Now for the boys," Ramona calls. Everyone in the poorest District in Panem quiets down again.

"Alex Fordess, please come up to the stage!"

A boy strides out of the 15 year old section, his head high. His skin is a bit darker than Rain's, and is hair is a darkish blonde color. Even on the TV, you can tell that he's vain. That type of tribute always gets killed in the first few days, unless they're actually good at something. His eyes are brown. That's kind of weird; my friends have told me that most people from District Twelve have gray eyes. Rain's eyes aren't gray either.

"And these are the tributes for the 52nd Hunger Games!"

A few scattered cheers and whistles rise from the crowd. It's the first year in about ten years that the District 12 tributes have actually had a slim chance to win. Well, besides the second Quarter Quell winner, Haymitch Abernathy.

The scene fades out, the screen black again. A bold white 11 pans in before disintegrating into a sea of green. Green grass, plants, trees. I see the mayor's building. That's green too. People shuffle into the square, seeming dismal but anticipated. There have only been one or two District Eleven winners. The people seem strangely skinny. Don't they harvest fruits and vegetables? And why do they look so scare- Ohhhh. Peacekeepers are surrounding the square, with guns and stuff. Maybe they don't want people stealing fruit? Oh well.

A short woman is waiting on a podium sitting on the temporary stage. I don't know her name. The most famous district chaperone is Ramona Trinket for her loud voice and forcefulness with manners.

"Hello District Eleven! I'm Ramay Cloud, the chaperone for your District. It's the 52nd Hunger Games! Let's see if we can get a winner!"

Her hand reaches to the middle of the girl's bowl, plucking out a name on a tiny slip of paper.

"Let's hear it for Charlotte Blaize!"

A small, pretty girl shuffles onstage. She looks really scared, but tries to hide it. Ramay Cloud hands her the mic.

"Um, hi," Charlotte squeaks.

A couple people start laughing, and a tiny smile forms on Charlotte's lips. Ramay takes the mic, and shoves her hand into the boy's bowl, picking another victim.

"Reese Halford! Come up to the stage!"

The boy, Reese, is only twelve or thirteen. No one cheers. Everyone knows he's going to die. Ramay looks sad for a moment, then plasters another fake smile on her face.

"The District Eleven 52nd Hunger Games Tributes! Charlotte Blaize and Reese Halford!"

District Eleven erupts into cheers and screams. I don't know why. It's obvious they're both going to die in the first two days. I get up and go to the kitchen, with marble floors and white cabinets. I'm happy I don't live in the Districts. I wouldn't want to go into those games. But it's entertaining to see which kid of twenty-four others has the mental and physical capabilities to win. Sometimes they win by smarts, other times skills. And maybe by chance, if they're forgotten by other tributes or get lucky by not being killed in a mutation attack.

I go back to the screen. Great. I missed the District Ten tributes. They don't look to impressive.

"….Iris Cross and Braden Wright!"

The scene switches to District Nine. It's already been half an hour. I guess the Capitol wants to speed things up. The camera zooms in a lot, all I can see is the crowd and stage, but not the rest of the District. Weird.

The Distric Nine escort seems nervous as she stares out at the crowd. I don't see anything wrong. She quickly picks a name from both genders bowls.

"Jayce Ferguson and Markus Green!"

The two climbed onto the stage, looking sort of dazed, like they couldn't believe they were going into the Games. The District escort handed the mic to Markus.

"Hey. I'm Markus Green, but call me Marx. I'm going to be winning the Hunger Games this year." He flipped his light brown hair and smirked, handing the microphone to Jayce.

Stubborn fool.

Jayce seemed sort of shy. Her black hair fell into her face, shielding a wondrous shade of green eyes.

"Well, I'll try my best to win," she took a breath and glanced at Marx. "But I know I'll last longer than him, at least." Her mouth curved into a snarl. It was obvious she didn't like arrogant people. I have to say, I agree with her.

The scene flashes an 8 and shows a green-ish place with lots of factories. A stout man is standing on the stage. He uses his fingertips to get a slip of paper.

"Avery Diamond…" He sticks his hand in the other bowl. "And Hunter Scarlett. Congratulations, you two are the District Eight Hunger Games tributes!"

Hunter Scarlett, this HUGE dude with scary-sized muscles and short black has this crazy look in his lightish blue, almost white eyes already. Uh-oh. The Games now have a crazy tribute. That never turns out well. Avery is tall and totally gorgeous, her eyes are a light hazel, and her dark brown hair falls down her back in waves. Wait… she has a mirror in her hand, and is…. Talking to it? What the heck? Talk about conceited. But the crowd cheers a ton anyways.

The screen fades out even faster, changing to District Seven, the lumber district. They've had a few wins, when their District's tributes got axes from the Cornucopia, or a sponsor. An iron axe was the most expensive gift I've seen so far. Ha. In the future, some District Four tribute is probably going to get some crazy-priced trident.

I check the clock. 10:47. Okay… this is the last District, then I'm off to bed.

A thick-muscled girl, Skye Weaver, is called to the stage. So is a small boy, his name Drake Kayne. Some other guy volunteers for him, having to be his brother, because Drake is the exact copy of the volunteer. The District escort hands the mic to Drake's older brother.

"What's your name?"

"Ember Kayne." He side-hugs his brother and is lead off the stage and onto the train to the Capitol.

And the other six districts.

And the Games.