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Camden Stallone
Rebel Soldier, 22 Years Old
Location: District Thirteen
Reapings


"Welcome, District One, to the Reapings for the Hundredth Annual Hunger Games!"

The small screen goes static, the image of the colorfully adorned woman fading away. It comes back slowly, pixel by pixel, eventually returning to the original frame. The television itself is already falling apart, and this streaming of the Reapings from a Capitol station is making it work even harder. The screen is black and white in some spots, with part of the glass screen shattered in the corner.

After I left District One myself, I had to resort to the lesser things in life. Back in One, I had it all, but in District Thirteen, you learn to survive. You learn to adapt, to become resourceful. Life flipped upside down for me, from the constant harassment that there's a chance I might be a spy to the mocking that the conditions here aren't up to my standards.

I addressed both immediately: First, I am no spy. I am not trying to avenge my sister's death. My reasons for joining the Rebellion are the same as everyone else's. And, second, these might not be up to my standards, but I won't complain. I chose this life. I chose to do this for me, not for my dead sister.

On the screen, the first thing I notice is the massive number of Peacekeepers stationed around the area. The Reaping isn't taking place in front of the Justice Building, either; it's potentially too risky. Another bombing could take place at any moment – I know that there aren't any planned for today, but they don't. They're trying to be one step ahead of us.

The Peacekeepers have formed a large circle around all of the teenagers in the middle, still being separated by gender and then age. This time, though, I don't see any parents or relatives. I only see the kids and the Peacekeepers. Lately, District One is under the most surveillance; ever since we oversaw some of the bombings there, it has all changed. We weren't expecting such a shutdown of the District, but after they jammed all communications both in and out of the District, we had to devise a new plan.

We're still working on that plan, though. District One is tricky, especially after the recent murders of a few Victors.

It's unfortunate that my sister couldn't live, but she decided her fate. She pledged her allegiance to the Capitol.

There was nothing I can do.

"Let's get started, shall we?" The escort says, a sense of wariness in her voice. "For our male, we have-"

"I volunteer!"

Go figure. Despite this year's Quell Twist, there are still volunteers from District One. Perhaps that is why we attack that District in particular – because of their patriotism. The way that Career tributes from that District pay homage to the Capitol. They honor and respect the Capitol. That's called brainwashing.

A boy slides into the aisle, and behind him, two Peacekeepers approach him. They don't grab ahold him, however, they just stand there as he strides forward.

He walks forward, a glint in his eye that sends a chill down my spine. I can tell he's very self-aware. He walks up the stairs, stands next to the escort, and announces his name as 'Ceylon Lanier.'

Is that familiar?

I really can't tell. There are too many people involved in the Rebellion.

"Our female for this year is-"

"Leilani Theriott!" A female's voice screams from the crowd. A blonde girl steps into the aisle, her hair disheveled. She walks down the aisle very quickly, shoving her face in the face of anyone she passes. "First name Leilani, last name Theriott, and I volunteer."

She's… interesting. Rambunctious, I can tell.

Another name I don't recall, though.

The screen goes black again, and as District Two appears, the television rattles.

It's nearly the same scene; the children in the middle surrounded by Peacekeepers. Once again, it's not happening in front of the Justice Building. This time, at least, has a reason – that was a location of one of the bombings. The governor died, as did his wife and daughter. Perhaps they're overcompensating for it by being under heavy-security.

The escort is already at the male's bowl, but as she looks into the audience, she smiles. As she opens her mouth to, there's a shout in the audience. The television raddles as the escort speaks into the microphone, saying, "Mathias Mordurie."

Mordurie. Could it be? Lennox's and Wisley's son?

A pause follows with complete silence. The boy takes his spot in the aisle, and for a moment, a sense of genuine shock shoots across his face. He manages to swallow any emotion, his face becoming indifferent. He lowers his head, nodding to himself and smirking. Mathias takes his spot next to the escort on the stage, and as she calls the female's name from the bowl, I'm surprised no one volunteers.

District One had two volunteers, so why don't they? Has District Two finally lost its patriotism and devotion to the Capitol?

"Levana Coltello."

Lyme.

That's Lyme's granddaughter. She's more than that, though. She's a prime example of a child rebel.

I remember her story. She joined the Rebellion once her grandmother was killed by the Capitol… When she was taken into custody, we lost track of her. Here she is, though, with the same scowl on her face as she always did.

Levana trudges to the stage, kicking a pebble on the ground along the way. She tenses up once she notices two Peacekeepers trailing behind her. When Levana stands next to Mathias, they exchange a glance, the scowl on Levana's face and the smirk on Mathias' putting a pit in my stomach.

Two rebels. Two rebels that I've heard of.

Up next is District Three; the District that was only plagued by the Victor's Purge. Beetee Latier was his name.

"The male who will represent District Three in the Hundredth Annual Hunger Games is," the escort says, pausing before opening the card. "Marlin Crichton!"

Unlike the other Districts, it takes a while for someone to step into the aisle. The Peacekeepers survey the crowd of kids, looking to see where Marlin is. Then, they locate him, being taller than everyone else. The Peacekeepers pull him from the arm, leading him up to the stage. He complies with a confused look on his face, as if he doesn't know why he was just reaped.

As if he's unaware of what he's done to put himself in that bowl.

"And the girl is," the escort says once more with another pause. "Aella Rafferty!"

There's a gasp in the crowd. A few girls move to the side, leaving one red-headed girl in the middle. She folds her hands over one another and smiles. She whispers something to the girls around her, who are all in shock. Apparently, she's rather popular among the District.

Aella stands next to Marlin who is staring vacantly at her. She smiles again, her cheeks blushing.

How could someone like her get involved in the Rebellion? Someone so dainty?

The screen goes black once more, transitioning to District Four. These Reapings are being held at the edge of some body of water. There are a few patrol boats it seems in the water, all very close to the edge – a safety precaution. The escort approaches the male's bowl, picks up a card, and before she can even the read name out, there's a volunteer.

"I volunteer," he says as he swiftly walks to the stage. "Jonah Danick."

As in, Corinne Danick?

What is he doing up there volunteering?

"I volunteer," he repeats, standing next to the escort. "To amend for what my aunt has done."

What? To 'amend'?

Is he himself not a rebel, then?

The escort is at the female's bowl, but once again, no time is wasted in District Four. A girl is already in the aisle, making her way up to the stage. Whenever she passes a boy, she glides her finger along their arm, and when she approaches a Peacekeeper, she stands on her tippy-toes. She puckers her lips, stepping back down.

"Otrera Hale," she says, curtseying to the audience. "It is my pleasure."

District Five is up next.

"Caden Glite," the escort calls out, waving her hand in the air. "I see you out there, Caden!"

A boy with a smirk on his face begins walking up to the stage. He walks quickly, not looking back at all. He makes his way up there, completely quiet and tamed, except for that smirk on his face.

Someone so young… I respect that.

The escort steps up the female's bowl, and for the first time, I look closely at how many slips are in the bowl. There's a good amount, nearly filling the whole bowl. That means that most of District Five are classified as being a part of the Rebellion.

That brings a smile to my face.

"Anaise Tuist!" The escort booms, holding up the card in the air. "Make your way up here, Anaise."

There's a gap of silence. No one moves, no one shuffles to the side. It's all quiet.

Then, the Peacekeepers intervene, locating Anaise in the mix and pulling her out. She has a perplexed look on her face, seemingly confused as to what's going on. She ambles towards the stage, footstep after footstep, scanning the crowd. Her eyes are widened with the same incredulous expression plastered on her face.

The escort tries to grab Anaise's hand, but she pulls it away, holding it to her chest. Caden simply stares at her, the smirk still on his face.

When District Six appears on the screen, I see that this time, they are surrounded by hovercrafts that are flying overhead. The escort's at the male's bowl, and as she calls out the name, the unexpected happens. I would have never thought District Six would have a volunteer.

The boy who was reaped steps into the aisle, but another male steps in front of him. He shakes his head, walking up to the stage slowly. He stares down at the ground, his fingers twitching at his side.

"Who do we have here?" The escort asks.

"Kolter Hendricks," he answers. "And I volunteer."

It's not a name I've heard of. Maybe someone else here has.

"Girls next," the escort says, walking over to the girl's bowl. She picks out a card, opens it, and reads the name aloud. "Drew Kendall."

There's a scream in the crowd. The girl falls to her knees, tears streaming down her face. She looks like the youngest kid that has been reaped so far. She's completely silent except for the sobs, unmoving as she stares at the ground.

"Drew Kendall?"

From the male's side of the crowd, a boy begins to scream her name. Drew darts away, trying to run towards the boy who's calling out her name. She doesn't get far, though, before the Peacekeepers picks her up and forcefully throws her over his shoulder. She's tossed onto the stage, a sullen expression now on her face.

"Thank you for joining us," the escort says.

Then, the screen goes black. District Seven is next. In Seven, there are lot more Peacekeepers than any other District. They're everywhere; on top of the buildings, behind the stage, mixed within the kids. I know that District Seven has been one of the most… rebellious Districts, if you will.

It's not the best place to live right now.

"Audrey Kaman."

There's a loud grunt in the crowd, with a dark-skinned male rushing out towards the back. He grabs ahold of some woman, pressing his hand on her stomach. He scrambles to get away with her, but Peacekeepers surround him, his fist smashing into the jaw of one.

They jab him in the neck, making him buckle over, and as the Peacekeepers pick up to carry him towards the stage, he mouths something to the woman. They place him on the stage, letting him get back onto his feet. His lip twitches, probably wanting to run back to the girl.

"Now, for girls," the escort says. "Gerri Faulkes."

A girl steps into the aisle, playing with the ends of her brown hair. She twirls her hair nervously, biting down on her lip. She trembles, her hands shaking uncontrollably. You can see how hard she is trying to suppress the tears.

None of these kids deserve to get sent into the arena.

What have they done wrong?

They're fighting for a cause.

When District Eight appears on the screen, it confuses me as to why the Reaping is being held in front of a bombed-out building. It's collapsing in on itself, with random metal bars popping out of the cement. The rubble is spread out and it looks like it was a recent incident.

They're probably sending a message.

The escort takes a card out of the male's bowl, unfolds it, and inhales before reading out the name. "Nathaniel Bayle."

The boy sort of freaks out, bringing his hands to his face. He rubs his eyes, and when he removes his hands, his face is all red now. He walks to the stage obediently, however, with a pensive look on his face. He's tall and lanky, and as he steps around the Peacekeepers, he towers over some of them.

You can see the real fear in his eyes now.

These kids… They don't deserve it.

"For girls, we have Claire Dasilva."

A girl steps out from the crowd who is shaking violently. She has a scowl on her face, but it doesn't look like it's out of fear or nervousness… She looks angry. She walks up to the stage, her tanned skin becoming a shade of red. The escort holds out her hand for Claire to stand next to her, but Claire is unresponsive, staying where she already is at the edge of the stage.

District Nine is up next, with the Reapings being held in a grain field. The field is scorched, though, with the whole are being burned down. The grains are all withered away, with the remaining ones all black and gray.

What happened here?

"Our male is Marlon Haigh."

A boy steps out from the crowd, immediately rolling his eyes. He walks up to the stage with his arms crossed over his chest, the anger clear in his facial expression. He contains himself, though, unlike some of the other tributes. He stands next to the escort, staring out into the crowd.

He might be young, but he's a rather muscular boy. He has potential.

"Reanine Darsh is our female."

A young blonde girl steps into the aisle. She has a small and petite frame, looking like she couldn't even hurt an insect.

What has she done to get her name in that bowl? What could she have done?

She looks at the ground, her cheeks blushing. The girl puts her hair behind her ears, not looking up even as she walks onto the stage. When she looks up, though, you can see the surprise in her face. There's a latent anger in her face, which is surprising for someone as young as her.

District Ten scene is just as gruesome as Nine's.

The Reaping is set in a large farm, but in the background are animals… Dead animals. There are cows and chickens, all without a head and with knife wounds. The blood is poured out everywhere, staining the hay and the walls.

What has gone on here?

We never instigated this. This was District Ten's doing.

"The female who will represent District Ten this year is," the escort says, taking a pause before she reads off the name. "Tasha Levelle."

The girl walks calmly up to the stage, not wasting any time to reflect or to show any expression. She doesn't seem very surprised. Her hands are balled into fists and are shaking, however. Is it out of fear? Or anger like some of the others?

I don't know what to think of these kids so far. These rebels, I should say, actually.

That's why they're in the bowl, after all.

"Our male is," the escort says, taking another pause. "Lonan Hurritt."

Hurritt.

That name is familiar somehow. After thinking about it, I realize that it was one of the Head Peacekeeper's names in the District. That Peacekeeper ordered his men to do nightly raids on people's home to search for rebels. He was taken care of, though. By who, I'm not sure.

All I know is that he was killed.

Why would his son be in that bowl, though? What has he done?

As District Eleven appears on the screen, and here, the Reapings are taking place in an apple orchard. Nothing is burned or destroyed, though. Not like Nine or Ten.

"From District Eleven," the escort says, opening the card from the male's bowl. "We have Alumax Derian."

When the boy steps into the aisle, the first thing I notice are the scars on the back of his neck. They look like they're from whippings. He physically looks angry, but as he walks to the stage, the anger disappears. He looks relieved, looking up towards the sky and nodding his head.

He stands next to the escort, and she calls out the next name. "Cailen Arkley."

The girl can't hold back her gasp. The camera focuses on the girl as she holds her hands over her mouth. She starts to shake, crying out and sobbing. Tears begin to run down her face, shaking her head and her hands wiping the tears under her eyes.

She stares at the trees behind the stage, not wanting to look at anyone in the eyes. When she's on the stage, she stares forward, but not at anyone in particular. She stares at the trees still.

All of this is terrible.

Kid after kid, it evokes even more emotion in me. How could the Capitol do this? It baffles me.

The final District is up next. District Twelve appears on the screen and all I see is white. Peacekeepers are everywhere; standing in between the kids, standing on the outside of the groups, on top of buildings, behind the escort. District Twelve is unsurprisingly the most guarded District.

After Katniss and Ashra, I'm not surprised.

Things are still boiling in District Twelve.

"Amias Black."

In the crowd of boys, the camera focuses on Amias. He stands there, staring off into the distance pensively. I'm sure a thousand thoughts are running through his head. He looks surprised, if anything. The Peacekeepers grab him forcefully, dragging him towards the stage. They toss him onto it, his face looking shell-shocked now. He stares at the crowd as they stare back at him.

The escort then goes to the female's bowl, picks out a card, and unfolds it. "Wren Maddox."

Calmly, the girl steps out of the crowd, and pauses before walking forward. She opens her mouth but shuts it quickly, and as she proceeds forward, she doesn't show any emotion. She smirks as she approaches the stage, giving Amias a quick glance.

"Here you go, District Twelve!"

And, with that, the television screen goes black.

The Reapings have concluded.

I knew that this Quarter Quell would be hard for me to deal with, but after seeing the kids get reaped… I can't believe it. I can't believe that the Capitol has the audacity to do this. Why not find rebels and capture them? Why not put actual rebels in the arena?

Why put our children? The youth of Panem?

It's terrible. All of this is terrible.

They must be stopped. They have gone too far this time.

Is there anything we can do, though? To stop the Capitol?

Yes. There's always something that can be done.

We are District Thirteen.

We are the Rebellion.

And we are full of surprises.


Author's Note:

This chapter was long. Don't worry; not every chapter will be this length from one POV, but I just wanted to do the Reapings in one part to get them out of the way and to make it flow. I didn't expect it to be this long, though.

Well, there are the Reapings, then. We get a glimpse of the Rebellion from a rebel's perspective and now we see that District Thirteen is involved.

Did anyone stand out? If so, who?

What tributes' POVs are you really looking forward to?