I tried to change as little of the characters as I could, just a couple of features here and there, and a couple of names of their friends. I'm sorry if you do not like what I have done. But here is the chapter – Reapings in Districts 1 – 6! Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, own the Hunger Games series or any of the characters. All are the property of Suzanne Collins.

Reapings: Part One

District One

Sparkle Velia

It was a perfect day, the sky a flawless blue. I sat at my vanity table, slowly straightening out my long, white-blonde hair. Today was the day of the reaping, and I wanted to look my best. Of course, I always look perfect, but today I have to look more than perfect.

My outfit had been laid out by a maid. I glance over it, and smile – it looked very costly. Certainly I would stand out in the crowd. A tight fitting gold silk dress finishing halfway between my knees and waist with short puffed sleeves. Long white gloves coming to my elbow, and matching high heeled leather boots. The whole outfit probably cost more than the scum in District 12 earns all year. But my family is one of the richest in District One, so we can afford it.

Slowly, I stand up and get dressed, before smiling at my reflection in my huge gilt mirror. I truly am beautiful. Every girl in the District is going to be jealous of me. I walk downstairs and find my three brothers, Light, Shimmer and Gold already at the table, along with my father. Light is the eldest, at seventeen. He has no interest in the Hunger Games, and is already concentrating on helping our father's business in the precious gems and substances that we mine here. But he is still eligible for reaping, and is wearing a gold shirt and white trousers and white shoes. Shimmer and Gold are only twelve, and wear smaller versions of Light's outfit, except that they also have white waistcoats with gold studs.

We were halfway through a delicious breakfast of pastries and hot chocolate when Father folded up his newspaper and frowned at us all. Light and I knew what was coming – the Reaping Lecture.

'Now,' he turned to Light first. 'You have gone through training, of course, and know how to handle yourself in the Games. But you are a valuable business partner and I don't want to lose you. So no volunteering, got it?'

'Of course I won't, Father. I'm not stupid,' replied Light, exasperated. 'But what if I get reaped.'

'That's no problem,' Father gave a thin smile, and patted his pocket, where he always keeps his well-stuffed wallet. 'I have made a little, er, deal, with one of the boys your age.' We all knew what that meant. It wasn't unusual for richer parents who did not want their children in the Games to pay another child, usually one with extensive training, to volunteer in their place, if their child got picked. Some kids got extremely rich doing this, as the parents pay huge amounts to protect their little darlings.

Father looked at me next. 'Sparkle, you have had training as well, but those Games are no place for my little girl. I forbid you to volunteer!' but there was no patting of the wallet, and I knew that he had not made a deal for me. But I wasn't as useful to him as Light was – just a pretty little accessory. I didn't mind, but it was a bit annoying. I scowled, angry that he had forbidden me something.

'Daddy, I want to go into the Games! I want to volunteer!' I cried, jumping to my feet. My brothers could hardly hide their smirks, but Father looked thunderous.

'No, Sparkle, you shall not! You are my little girl, I will not let you!' I was about to protest, but I knew not to push him.

He spoke to the twins, Shimmer and Gold, last of all. They were only twelve, but vicious as hell. I think they're the ones Father has his hopes on for winning the Games. But not this year. This year, they're told that they are too young, too small, too inexperienced to play in the Games. I could see they were about to protest, but Father silenced them with a look.

Our Reaping was the first of the Districts, so we drove over when we finished breakfast. As we got to the Main Square opposite the Justice Building, I peeled off to go talk to a group of my "friends" from school. I didn't particularly like any of them, but we were a group of the elite, and I was the leader. All the girls gushed over my dress, and I was pleased to see that none of their outfits were as nice as mine.

Finally it was time for us to be reaped. I walked over to the fourteen-year-olds' section and stood next to a sickly looking boy, who seemed to be on the verge of tears. I turned contemptuously away from him and looked up at the stage. There were two large glass balls filled with paper slips – one for boys, another for girls. Mayor Goldsun, a tall, dark haired, bored-looking man, sat next to the escort, Aymelie Vestalis, a silly, insipid woman with fuchsia pink lips and eyelids, sky blue hair and white skin. In the Capitol she is a great beauty – I just think she looks like a doll.

On the other side of Aymelie are the two mentors. They are two of the newest victors for District One. There are others still alive, of course, but only two are needed to mentor. I only know one of them, Silver Kellar, who trains my brothers. She's never really spoken to me though. The other is Emerald Starr, who dyed his hair green because of his name.

The crowds are falling silent as Aymelie bounces forward. 'Welcome to the Ninety-Ninth Hunger Games!' she cried, giving a blinding-white Capitol grin. 'First, Mayor Goldsun!' The Mayor stepped forward and gave a speech about how the Panem rose out of the ashes of a place called North America, with its thirteen Districts and Capitol. Then about the Dark Days and the Rebellion, and the Hunger Games being created. Finally he stepped back and nodded to Aymelie, who grinned even more. 'And for the Reaping! May the odds be ever in your favour. Now, ladies first!' she plunged a delicate hand, the nails painted alternately pink and blue, and pulled out a small slip of paper.

'Amethyst Starling,' a curvy blonde girl moved through the crowd. I noticed that Shimmer and Gold are giggling and casting covert glances at me, Light is openly laughing. Suddenly I am walking out, slipping under the barrier.

'I VOLUNTEER!' I cry. Amethyst has barely reached the edge of her group, she smiles and steps back, obviously relieved. I walk gracefully towards the steps, looking straight forward. I don't want to see the expression on my father's face.

I reach the stage and smile at Aymelie, before tossing back my hair and waving at the crowds. I know already that I'm popular, from the claps and cheers. Lowering my hand, I step back so that the boy can be chosen...

Niall Hoult

The sun beat down on me as I reached the square. Most people are already there, but are milling around in groups. I noticed my group of friends the shadow of a shop, and say goodbye to my family. My father, Aquilon, will probably stand with his group of equally rich friends, talking about money and politics and who has the fanciest watch. Analeigh, my younger sister, is only ten, and is already wandering off into the crowds. She can take care of herself.

I turn to my brother, Alec, who is trailing slightly behind us, and apprehensive look on his face. Since he nearly died from a sickness when he was seven, he has always been weaker and more sickly than me and Analeigh. His skin is slightly yellow, his hair hanging limply. He wouldn't last two minutes in the Games.

'Alec, it's alright, you won't get picked,' I say, kneeling down in front of him. Aquilon is hardly listening, surveying the crowd in front of him. Alec's breathing is shallow, his eyes wide and scared. 'Alec, I promise, on my life, that you will not go into the Hunger Games. Alec looks at me and seems to calm down. I pat him on the shoulder and point to his section. 'Off you go. I'll buy you some orange juice afterwards, alright?' Alec nodded and walked slowly off.

I watched him go, worry twisting in my heart. Aquilon had disappeared, without a care for his children. He had never liked Alec, thinking him annoying in his weakness. I pushed away feelings of anger, and smoothed back my hair, heading over to my group of friends. They greeted me cheerfully enough, though a few of my ex-girlfriends scowled at me.

'Hey, Niall,' one boy, a lanky, auburn-haired boy named Bronze, pointed over to a corner. 'Have you seen your ex, Amethyst?' he pointed over to where a curvy blonde girl was making out with a boy. I shrugged, uncaring.

'She's a slut and I don't give a shit about her,' I replied, wiping the smirk off Bronze's face. He could be such a dick.

'Whatever. We'd better go to the reapings,' he said, turning and striding off. I smiled and walked slowly towards my pen. I didn't really listen as Mayor Goldsun gave his speech, and Aymelie Vestalis picked Amethyst, just before another volunteered. I vaguely recognised her, though. An extremely pretty girl two years below me. Her father was a friend of mine.

Then it was the boys' turn. I watched that hand enter the bowl and felt an inexplicable apprehension. But the name wasn't mine. It was my little brother's.

There was a murmur throughout the crowd. Everyone knew about Alec, knew how weak he was, how he had never really recovered. I saw a few people looking upset, and others smirking at the thought of how amusing his death would be. But it was Alec's face that made me leap into action. He had just reached the steps onto the stage, and he turned to look at me.

I ducked under the rope keeping us in and ran forward, ignoring the shouts from the Peacekeepers. As I reached the stage I shoved him behind me and cried: 'I VOLUNTEER!' there were a few cheers and some clapping, and a man shouting something along the lines of 'Good on ya, lad!'

Aymelie Vestalis was smiling down at me, holding out her hand, beckoning me to come up. I climbed the stairs and found myself looking out over the population of District 1. I smiled and gave a little bow at their cheers, while Alec was led off, crying, by a group of Peacekeepers. Aymelie was saying some shit about how exciting the Games looked to be. Then the girl and I were led into the Justice Building, and the doors shut behind us, blocking out the crowds.

District Two

Cleo Berkeley

'Parry! Strike! Keep your block up!' I frowned, and lashed out, but just as I lunged for the contact I felt a sharp tap on my side and stumbled backwards, wincing and dropping the pole I'd been fighting with. My instructor, Markus Viktorr, looked down at me, not even short of breath.

'If you are going to volunteer, you need to be better,' he said. 'I think you should wait until next year.'

'No!' If I tried next year, someone might slip in and volunteer before me. And then my moment would be gone, the chance of glory lost. 'Can I practice with the throwing knives?' Markus checked his watch and shook his head.

'It's getting late. We should head towards the square,' he said. I sighed and grabbed a towel, patting myself down, before stepping into a small side room to change. I hate fancy clothes, so I just pulled on some brown trousers and white blouse. Markus raised an eyebrow when I reappeared. 'No dress?'

I scowled at him. 'Shut up, Markus!' Markus shrugged, patting himself down with a towel.

'Whatever. I have to go and meet my family. My brother is volunteering,' said Markus.

'Jason?' I had only seen the hulking teenager only once, when he had come in to help Markus with the training. Markus trained five or six kids at any one time, preparing them for the games. We fought him and each other, and I was always the best. I suddenly realised how tricky it would be for Markus, having his brother and his favourite trainee in the arena at once. But I wasn't giving up my chance. I just hoped that someone else killed Jason first.

I left the training building and catch a tram to the square. District Two is covered with a network of trams that can get you almost anywhere. The tram is packed with people on their way to the Reapings, so I chuck a couple of coins to the driver and climb onto the roof. Most people are too scared to sit "up top" because if you let go, you would most probably break your neck. But I'm not that stupid, and I just hold on loosely to a bar, feeling the wind rushing past.

The tram moves quickly, and soon it is slowing just outside the square. I leap off before it lands, and land as light as a cat, making it into the square before the crush from the tram comes. I'm not the friendly type, so no one hailed me over to talk. I skulked instead in the cover of a stall, watching people go past.

Most people were here with parents, so I stand out as I am alone. Mother will not come. She probably won't even get out of bed, won't even react at the news that her daughter has volunteered for the Hunger Games. She has been in a daze for as long as I can remember, ever since my aunt, Clove, was killed in the Hunger Games. She has often said that she did not want children, that I was a mistake. And when you're a little girl, that is not the kind of thing you want your mummy to say to you.

Father will be caring for her. He did not want me to volunteer, but of course I ignored him. He is too soft, too caring. He will probably cry. I do not give a shit.

Finally the gong sounds, and kids start to move towards their sections. I stand near the edge of mine, where I can duck out quickly. As our District Escort steps forward, I raise my head and smile, hardly able to wait a second longer...

Jason Viktorr

'97...98...99... 100!' I grunt and let go of the bar, dropping to the floor below. My arms feels like they're on fire, but I ignore it, stretching them and patting myself down with a grubby towel.

'Hey, Strongman, time to go!' Turning round, I see my brother, Markus, leaning against the doorframe, smiling. I start to go but he holds out a hand and stops me. 'Better get rid of that rancid vest first. Make a good impression, eh?'

I nod and peel it off, dropping it on the floor, not bothering to throw it in the basket of stinking clothes. I won't be back here again. I pick up a relatively clean shirt and pull it on. My brother raises an eyebrow.

'Same trousers?'

'When did you turn into a fashion guru?' I retort. 'I don't give a damn about the state of my trousers.' They're sports trackies, ripped and stained, but I don't care. Pushing past a chuckling Markus, I head downstairs.

It's just us two, since our parents died when I was ten. Markus was seventeen, and looked after me from then. We share a small apartment full of gym equipment and pizza boxes, that's too hot in summer and too cold in winter. Still, in a few weeks we would be in a house in the Victor's Village.

We walk in silence to the square. Neither of us are really into talking that much. I mumble a goodbye and head towards my section, pleased by the fact I am at least twice the size of anyone else. The Games are going to be a breeze, I thought.

The girl was almost falling over herself to volunteer. I vaguely recognised her as one of Markus's students. Small, dark haired, petite but incredibly violent. I gave a small smile. She would be a good ally. Until I had to kill her, of course.

I hardly heard the name of the boy that the Escort pulled out of the bowl. I just shoved my way forward, pushing other kids out the way, until I was at the front of the pen. I was way too tall to duck underneath, so I just stepped straight over it.

'I VOLUNTEER!' I yelled in my deepest, strongest voice. I got up the steps in three strides, and then I was on the stage, towering over everyone else on it. The Escort is beside herself with excitement – apparently all four of us from Districts One and Two volunteered. I offer my hand to the girl and she shakes it. To her credit, she did not even wince when I crushed it, but dug her sharp nails into my palm in return.

We waved to the cheering crowds, and then we were led into the Justice building.

District Three

Dawn Shentell

I stood perched on the roof of our house, looking out over District Three. The sun was just starting to rise, putting light on the ugly factories and dirty brown houses. In my hands I held a small, flat grey Messaging Tablet. The back of it was open, and my hands worked over it, fiddling with wires and chips, fixing and improving it. Hopefully I could then sell it to one of the rich. I wouldn't have time today, the day of the Annual Reapings.

There was a wail from downstairs, and I sighed. Denah was up. Slipping the tablet into my pocket, I scrambled, barefoot, down the roof and through the window into the cramped attic bedroom that I shared with my sister, Delilah. She was already up, brushing her long, silky black hair.

Delilah is far prettier than me. Her hair is curly, and always frames her face perfectly. She has rosy skin and cheeks that dimple when she smiles. Her body has filled out, giving her a proper bust and bum. I look at my reflection in our dirty, cracked mirror and sigh. I am much skinnier, almost scrawny, with pale skin and dull grey eyes. My hair is very straight, and impossible to do anything with, falling in a black sheet to my waist.

'You shouldn't spend so much time on the roof. Mother would kill you,' said Delilah, standing up and brushing out some wrinkles on her skirt and blouse.

'Well she won't find out,' I reply shortly. Delilah shrugs and disappears downstairs. I take out the tablet and carefully fit the back on, before picking up another two from my bedside table. Father takes faulty ones from the factory where he works and gives them to me to fix. His boss doesn't mind because I always do a good job. I often have trouble sleeping, and when I do I find fixing them helps calm my mind.

The rest of the family is already up, eating the bite-sized square rolls that are a speciality of District 3. Dael, my eldest brother, is eighteen, and already working in the factory with my father. He is tall and gangly and pale, with black hair that was usually slightly greasy.

My other two siblings are younger. Denzel, is nine, and an annoying little brat, with hair that sticks out at all angles and a face that is always scrunched up in anger. I try to avoid him. Denah is five, and as pretty as Delilah, with those dimpled red cheeks and soft curly black hair. Everyone else dotes on her. I think she's attention seeking and spoilt. But then, I always was the black sheep of the family. With four siblings, I get the least attention. I don't really care. I'm happier alone, and I hate attention.

'Dawn, don't just stand there, get this down you!' cries Mother, shoving a couple of rolls at me. I place the tablets on the table in front of Father, who grunts in acknowledgment. Turning I leave the room and go outside, nibbling on the rolls. No one notices me leave.

I wander down the narrow street, surrounded by dingy, sagging terraced houses. A stray dog limps past, gnawing a bone. I wish that my best friend, Talen, was with me. We used to be inseparable – he was the only person my age I used to talk to. But then he disappeared suddenly, just over a year ago. And now I have no one.

The main square is most deserted, just a few stall holders setting up. One, an old man called Garrick Lint offered me some money if I could fix some broken automatons. I pocket one and crouched on the doorstep of an abandoned building, fiddling with a tin mouse.

The square slowly filled. I noticed a few groups of girls in my year at school, but I didn't go over and they didn't call me. I have to say I virtually despise girls my age, with their silly infatuations over boys and dresses and lack of sense.

When it is time for me to go into the pens, I slipped the mouse in my pocket and walked to my section. I'm slightly worried, but I'm only thirteen. My family is not so poor that we have to take tesserae, so my name is only in twice. The odds are in my favour, as a Capitol person would say.

The Escort is a paunchy man in his fifties called Gambit Flashflit, who has dyed purple hair curling to his shoulders and a face that has obvious had too much plastic surgery. The skin is too tight, the forehead too smooth, the mouth too stiff. He greets us with his usual speech, the Mayor tells us (again) the history of the Panem. Then he is bouncing over to the girl's glass ball full of names. His fat hand pushes its way around, sifting the paper around, then he grabs one and pulls it out.

'Dawn Shentell.'

Hareld Wyre

'Hareld! Hareld get down here!' I frowned as my mother yelled up the stairs. Reluctantly I set aside the heavy tomb that I had been reading. A Detailed Look into the Workings of Complicated Electrical Mechanics. Not the average reading book for a twelve-year-old boy. I glance into the tiny mirror above my desk and comb a couple of stray locks into place, before adjusting my glasses. I am small for my age and chubby, with the usual black hair for District Three. My skin is so pale it is almost grey, and I have to wear very thick lensed spectacles – without them my vision is a mass of blurred colours.

'HARELD!' I sigh and walk downstairs. I have no siblings, and sometimes I am lonely, but I enjoy reading and playing with electronics and technology. My parents think I will go far when I am old enough to work. Like my great-uncle, a man called Beetee, who died in the last Quarter Quell, I have a talent for working with electricity.

Father has already left – he still has to work today. I find a meagre breakfast of dry rolls, cheese and bitter tea waiting for me on the kitchen table. I force it down, knowing that I will need my strength for the Reapings. My name was only in there once, there was next to no chance of me being picked. Still, a hard knot of worry lay in my stomach, and I slipped my hand into my pocket, where I always kept my inhaler. It wouldn't do to have an asthma attack in front of everyone.

'Come on, get moving!' snapped Mother. I finished off the last bite of my stale roll, and she swept the plate away, washing it up in a matter of seconds. I stood up for inspection and she looked me over, straightening my beige shirt and smoothing wrinkles in my knee-length navy shorts and braces. 'Put this on. You need to look smart.' She pulled out a scrappy length of the same material as my shorts. I started to fiddle it into a vague semblance of a tie, but she immediately pulled it out of my hands and did it herself.

'You'll do,' she pointed to the door. 'We need to catch the bus.' I was hurried out the door and onto the cramped, smelly bus full of screaming kids and stinking old people. I could hardly breathe, and felt my throat close up. As soon as the doors opened I stumbled out, gasping for air. Grabbing my inhaler, I opened it up and took a puff. Instantly I felt relief as my throat opened.

Mother was watching me with an expression close to disgust. 'I thought you were growing out of that,' she snapped, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me down the street. My chubby legs struggle to keep up as I am dragged along. Finally we get to the square and she lets go of me.

I would've gone and talked to some kids my age, but I was generally shunned by them. I guess most kids don't enjoy a conversation on the latest developments of electron technology. I stood awkwardly with my mother as she talked with her various friends, all of whom either ignored or patronised me.

'Hareld, I think it's time for you to go,' said Mother pointedly, pushing me towards my section. I nodded and walked quietly over, shuffling my shoes. Kids jostled around me, and my fingers closed around my inhaler, holding it tight, in case it was needed.

I was much smaller than the people around me, and I couldn't see what's going on up on the stage. I just heard the speeches, then the girl tribute being reaped. A girl called Dawn Shentell, I didn't know her. Then I suddenly found that all the kids were turning to look at me. A path towards the stage was opening up in front of me.

I suddenly realised that I had been reaped. I forced myself to walk forward, past all those watching, pitying eyes. Then I feel my throat close up again. I gasped desperately for air, grabbing my inhaler I took another puff, and my chest relaxed. I carried on walking, trying not to trip or make myself look any more weak or stupid.

The girl on stage, Dawn Shentell, managed a smile at me, and held out her hand. I took it, and managed a tiny, nervous smile. The doors of the Justice Building opened and we were led inside, feeling as if we had been dealt our death sentence.

District Four

Jessalyn Redway

The sea crashed against the rock, spraying up to splash my legs. I rocked on the balls of my feet, feeling the rough surface beneath me, before springing off it. The rock was three metres high, and I turned a neat somersault before diving into the water without a splash.

The scene underwater was beautiful, a landscape of rocks, plants and coral, with fish swimming in between. I kicked my legs and propelled myself forward, swimming through a forest of seaweed. I stayed under as long as I can, but soon my lungs were bursting for air, and I had to swim to the surface.

I realised that it is getting late, so I headed back to shore. I couldn't be bothered to find a beach, so I just found a stretch of cliff with lots of ledges and climbed up it. I lived very close to the sea, in a large, modern house. I slipped in the back door and was met by my adoptive sister, Ameleia, or just Leia.

'You missed training. Pater was angry,' she said. You see, my upbringing was rather strange. My parents drowned in a storm when I was only a baby, and I was taken in and adopted by a man who we just call Pater. I have four siblings, all adopted in the same way. Pater trained us up so we were perfect for the Games. And when we're old enough, we volunteer for the Games. One of his "sons" called Sharkey won three years ago. He lives in the Victor's Village, but occasionally comes to help with training.

Because of how I've been raised, I am an expert with a sword, bow, axe, knives, slingshot, trident, net, scythe, blowgun, almost any kind of weapon in existence. I can sort edible plants from poisonous, run for miles without stopping and, of course, swim like a fish.

But I hate it. I hate spending every waking second training, hate being forced into the Hunger Games. And most of all I hate being a Career, something despised by all other districts. One thing is sure – when I go into the Games, I'm not joining up with any other Careers. I'm only fourteen now, so I don't have to worry about the Games for a while.

The house is set up with a main training hub in the middle, and eating and sleeping areas built around it. There is a two storey, circular room right in the centre, which is used for fighting. At that moment my older brother Bruce (he's sixteen, and hoped to volunteer for the Quarter Quell next year) was fighting against my little sister Lisbeth. Lisbeth was only eight, and looked as delicate as a songbird, with feathery blonde hair and porcelain skin. I remember when she first came, a nervous, shy little toddler. Now she is as deadly as a viper.

Bruce was much stronger, but Lisbeth was a hundred times faster, and was frustrating him, dancing around just out of his reach. Most people would have been entranced by the fight, but for me it was a common occurrence. I walk straight on to my room. It's rather bare, just a narrow bed, desk covered in books, mirror and a small wardrobe for my clothes.

I had a quick shower to get rid of the salt and smell of the sea. The water in the showers is almost never hot, and today it was freezing cold. Makes us stronger, Pater says.

It was the day of the Reapings. District Four Reapings are at eleven, and its nine thirty now. I looked through my wardrobe for something vaguely pretty. Pater isn't the kind of man to buy us pretty clothes, so I only have one dress, a sea green number that exactly matches the colour of my eyes, which seem to reflect the colour of the ocean.

I pull it on and let my hair fall loose around my shoulders. It's long and slightly curly towards the ends, and a kind of red-brown in sunlight. Strawberry brunette someone said once. I don't really care, as it spends most of its time pulled back in a braid.

I met my other brother, Nemo, as I left my bedroom. He was my age, and probably my favourite sibling, even he was rather independent and almost never spoke. He's not a sadist like the others. He seemed to have been forced into a pair of smart trousers and a blue shirt. I gave him a small smile and followed him down to the fighting room. Leia was already there wearing a pale blue dress with her blonde hair pulled back and even a hint of makeup. Bruce just had a pair of black jeans and a shirt that was purposefully too small, to show off his muscles. He's stocky, just under six foot, but built like a bull.

'Time to go,' Pater appeared. As always, he wore a long grey coat and matching trousers, sharply creased, with polished black boots. He's in his sixties, with grey hair cut very short and parted by a scar that started above his right eyebrow and sliced across his temple. He's a formidable character, capable of beating all five of us at once. 'I know none of you are volunteering this year, but I want you to be on your best behaviour.'

We nodded and marched after him, into our car. He's very rich, Pater, one of the richest in the District, and respected. We were almost the last people into the square. Its Pater's habit, being late – makes sure he has an entrance. We stepped neatly out and walked to our sections, the eyes of the district on us.

The District Escort, a young woman with electric blue hair, steps forward to do the Reaping. I've never bothered to learn her name. She smiled blindingly at us all and picked out the girl's name.

'The girl tribute is… Jessalyn Redway!'

I stared at her, disbelieving. Me? Seriously? Someone shoved me and a voice hissed 'Get moving, Career girl.' I straightened my shoulders and walked up to the stage, looking straight ahead. I reach the stage and shake the Escort's hand, managing a smile.

I'm going into the Hunger Games.

Skye Coral

'Skye! Haul the net in!' my uncle shouted. I nod and pull the rope, straining my arms. A couple of deckhands run over to help, and together we manage to get the trawler net onto the deck. It's full of exotic fish, a glittering, multi-coloured mass that writhed and struggled against the ropes. In a few minutes it is virtually still, just the occasional weak flap of a tail.

The deckhands started to sort the fish out, but I walked past them, up to the front of the ship, where my uncle Boyd was standing.

'Well done, Skye,' he said, before glancing at his watch. 'We should be getting back. Go and change, you might not have time when we get back onto land.' Most people would get the day off, as it's Reaping today, but Boyd is self-employed, and cannot afford to take time off.

I walked into the cabin and stripped off my damp, salty work clothes. I'm tall for my age, and I would be skinny, but I have spent so much time training and working on the ship that I have a toned layer of muscles. My skin is tanned from many hours outdoors, and I am covered from head to toe with thin scars like random white stripes.

I got these four years ago, when I was fourteen. Boyd got an order for some rare kind of jellyfish. Jellyfish are best found in bad weather, so the next time a storm came we set off in the trawler. We found the jellyfish fine, but the weather was worse than we thought, and I was thrown from the boat.

As I am from District Four, I have learnt to swim before I learnt to walk, but I fell into the mass of jellyfish. Instantly their tentacles were wrapped around me, stinging me on every part of my body. The pain was unimaginable, but luckily the jellyfish were not lethal. Still, I passed out and woke up a couple of days later, in bed at home. The scars have not faded, and are a constant reminder of the incident.

Apart from them, I am not bad looking, with spiky brown hair and the typical District Four blue eyes. And I sometimes think the scars add a certain … memorability to my appearance. I smiled and pulled some smarter clothes on. The boat has turned and was speeding towards the shore, so I decided to stay inside. Mother would kill me if I got the clothes dirty.

We had to rush to the Reapings, but luckily it is close by. We're one of the richer districts, so the square is clean and well-kept. I noticed my mother and gave her a small wave, before striding to my section, acknowledging a few greetings. I had a tough reputation but everyone seemed to want to be my friend.

I never listened to what happens in the Reapings. I noticed one of the Redway girls has been reaped. They're a mega-Career family who go into the Hunger Games every few years. I've been put through Career training, of course – almost everyone in District Four has. But at least I get some time off at home or on the trawler. The Redway children are in constant training 24/7.

I suddenly heard my name being called. Looking up, I realised it's the escort who has said it. Shit. I've been Reaped. With a sigh, I made my way up to the stage. The girl is pretty, but looked tough. I'll enjoy working with her, I thought.

District Five

Amore Gemini

'Amore?' I turned to see my brother, Odio, smiling at me from the doorway. He's my twin, and the only person I really trust or love, since our parents died a few years ago. We spent a few years in a care home, until we could start working and made enough money to rent this flat. It isn't a palace, but it's our own place.

We look similar. Same silver hair, except mine is much longer, and pale skin. I have a rounder face, and big blue eyes. His are a darker green, and he is much stronger and quietly calm. We have been inseparable ever since we were born, unable to spend much time apart from each other.

We both dropped out of school to work, finding jobs in Nuclear Power Station Four as cleaners. The pay isn't amazing, but we manage to get by.

'Are you ready?,' I asked, smiling and holding out my hand to him. We don't have any friends apart from each other, never have. But we have never felt the need, as we have had each other. I smooth Odio's hair, which is slicked back and looks like strands of silver wire.

The two of us were given the day off, our boss actually wishing us good luck when he told us to go. I guess we had worked particularly hard that day. We always go around as a team, helping each other. At first they tried to get us to work on different floors, but they soon found that we worked better together.

Our flat is on the seventh floor of a concrete block of them. The neighbourhood that we live in is mostly made up of them. It's an ugly district, full of power stations and covered in black solar panels. Most of the energy comes from solar power, which is tricky on a cloudy day, when there is a high chance of the hot water running out midway through your shower.

'Odio,' I said in a small voice as we walked down the street. 'What happens if I'm reaped?' Odio wrapped his arms around me, as he always does when I'm scared.

'I'll protect you. I promise,' he said 'I won't let anyone hurt you.' I smiled and hugged him back.

'Together forever,' I said quietly.

'Together forever,' he repeated.

We soon reached the square. A few co-workers from the station waved to us, but as I said before, we are pretty antisocial, so there weren't exactly hordes of people running to greet us. We nodded at a couple of people, but didn't stop on our way to our section. As the other fifteen-year-olds came in and stood around us, I gently slipped my hand into Odio's, and suddenly felt a sense of calm. Odio was standing next to me, tall and strong, and nothing could go wrong.

That is, until my name was called.

Odio Gemini

Shit. Not Amore, anyone but her. I was filled with horror as I heard her name. Her hand suddenly squeezed mine painfully tight, but I did not let go, instead I held her more, as if I could stop them from taking her away.

I looked down at her face, which had gone white, tears appearing in her eyes. Her hand left mine, and she started to walk forward, past the other kids, up onto the stage, looking as though she was about to faint at any second. I felt as if my heart was wrenched in two. They couldn't take her, they couldn't part us.

Suddenly our conversation from earlier came back to me. I remembered her face looking up at me, frightened, and her whispered words:

'What happens if I'm reaped?'

And I remembered my reply. 'I'll protect you.'

Then I knew what I had to do. I didn't even wait for the boy tribute's name to be called, I pushed and stumbled my way forward, shouting: 'I VOLUNTEER!' The District Escort gave an excited squeal, clapping her hands. I made my way up onto the stage. Amore was there, her face a mask of grief. I held her hands and she whispered to me:

'Odio, no! Why did you volunteer?' And I pulled her into my arms, like I had in the street, and whispered back:

'Together forever.'

District Six

Lottie Blacilla

With a sharp snap, the rabbit's neck broke. I grinned and with a high, cold laugh, dug a nail into the soft skin and wrenched downwards. With a spray of blood a gash opened in the rabbit's stomach. The red liquid gushed over my white hands, staining them. I felt a voice in my head, whispering to me.

'Drink it. Drink it.' It was my imaginary friend, who taught me everything. I bent my head to lap it up, feeling the salty taste on my lips. It was delicious. I tore a few bites of meat from the rabbit but left the rest for scavengers, and ran off through the forest. Pausing at a pool, I crouched to drink, smiling at my reflection.

Blood-stained lips, standing out against the white albino skin. Pale pink, bloodshot eyes full of a crazed hunger and madness. White-blonde hair streaked with red that fell in tangled locks around my face and shoulders. A dress so torn and dirty it looked to be made of rags. Yes. I truly was a demon.

Today was my day. I decided to volunteer for the Hunger Games. Not for a chance of glory or fame. No, I wanted to volunteer so I could taste human blood, something I have wanted but that has always been denied to me. I gave a feral smile at the prospect, then sprinted back through the woods to District Six.

My family is wealthy, one of the wealthiest since my grandfather died, leaving us money. I do not care. All I care for is sustenance and the taste and feel of death. I come to our house and slip in the back door. My brother, Blake, is there but he ignores me, moving quietly out of the room. He is terrified of me, like everyone is. He used to try and talk to me, but I ripped his ear off.

Smiling at the memory, I prowled through the kitchen. A small loaf of bread and some meat has been left out. I rip a couple of mouthfuls off, but I am not hungry, and I just spit it out on the floor.

Up in my room, I found my outfit for the Reapings. The room itself stank of blood and was mostly just a mass of blankets and bones, but I liked it that way. The last time Mother had tried to clean it, I nearly bit her hand off.

The outfit itself was perfect. A crimson dress encrusted in black jewels. Black boots with spikes on the heels. A blood red ribbon for holding my hair up. I bared my pointed teeth and snarled, before giving a feral smile. I truly was terrifying.

My Mother and Blake had already left, probably going early to escape travelling with me. I glanced at myself in the mirror as I leave and realise something was missing. I held my forearm to my lips and bit down, hard. My fang punctured the skin and blood trickled out. I kissed the wound, staining my teeth and painting my lips. Perfect.

There weren't many people on the street. Everyone who saw me looked away, dropping their gaze, trying not to make eye contact. Good. Those who looked at me too much often ended up bleeding on the floor. Everybody in District 6 is terrified of me, people cross the street not to pass me.

'Bloody Child,' I heard the whisper in my ear, my imaginary friend. 'You are the Bloody Child.'

When I reached the main square, the Reapings were about to start. The Peacekeepers, who knew what I am capable of, pointed me to my section with their guns. The other kids moved away from me, until I was standing alone, a few feet between me and the closest person. I saw a weird ginger kid staring at me and bared my bloody teeth, snarling. The kid's eyes widened and he moved away, putting another boy between me and him.

My heart started to beat faster at the thought of the blood I will soon be able to drink, of the pain and death I will create. Without waiting for a girl to be Reaped, I stepped forward and said in a low, deadly voice.

'I volunteer.' Everybody turned to look at me, and a universal groan passed through the crowd. I knew what they were thinking. They had to go through having me a tribute, having every other district see me. I ignored them, stalking up to the stage and facing the Mayor and Escort. The Mayor knew about me and did not question my volunteering, but the Escort was new, and frowned at me in confusion.

'I am afraid we need to-' I leapt forward and snarled, snapping my teeth hardly a millimetre from her face. She jumped backwards, and two Peacekeepers stepped forward and grabbed me. I fought against them, hissing and trying to bite them, but they were wearing body armour, and even my fangs didn't make a mark. In the end a third came up and managed to slip a needle into my arm without the crowd noticing me. I felt my muscles relax and slumped, helpless.

Patrick Volta

I stood silently on the edge of the square, watching everybody go past. Today was the day of the Reaping, and for my parents' sakes I hoped I didn't get picked. I'm their only child, and I don't want them to become childless.

I felt a cool hand on my arm and turned to see Misha, my best and only friend, standing next to me. She hardly ever spoke, and to most people she gave off a strange aura. Perhaps it was her eyes, that seemed to know everything, or the fact she could move silently. I was the only person who really understood her.

We made quite a pair, me with my gangly body and shocking ginger hair, her with her ivory skin and strange eyes. Both of us were shunned at school. I was teased for my hair and the fact I often laughed suddenly for no reason. And no one went near Misha, the "weird silent girl". So we stuck together.

'Don't worry, Misha, you won't be picked,' I said. She didn't reply, but I didn't expect her to. A few groups of classmates passed us, but they either ignored us or whispered to each other, laughing and sniggering. The weirdoes were chatting.

'Shall we go?' I asked rhetorically. Misha nodded once and we started to walk across the square. It wasn't a hot day, but my hair seemed to absorb heat like a solar panel, and my shirt was sticky with sweat. Misha's hand was as cold as ever.

'Oooo look! Loony Laughing Volta's found a girlfriend!' jeered a couple of boys in my year, shoving me as they went passed. I felt Misha's hand slip out of mine, and I sighed inwardly. Boys could be such idiots sometimes.

'Good luck,' I murmured to Misha. She's still fourteen, and had to go in a different section. She gave me a small smile and walked away.

As the Reapings were about to start, there was a small commotion at the back of the square. I turned and saw Lottie Blacilla, the terror of District Six, nicknamed the Bloody Child, being ushered into her section. I couldn't help watching her, with her albino skin and strange clothes. She seemed to sense my gaze and turned to look at me, baring bloody fangs. I felt the back of my neck prickle and I quietly moved so another boy was between me and her.

Of course she volunteered, with a crazed look in her eyes. The stupid Escort questioned it because she hadn't actually pulled out a name yet, and nearly got her face bitten off. I wouldn't put it past Bloody Blacilla.

She ended up getting drugged so that the Escort could pick out the boy tribute. They tried to do it without anyone seeing, to lessen the embarrassment, but it was obvious. No one that crazy and psychotic just suddenly stops.

I felt sorry for the boy who had to be tribute with her. No one would volunteer now. I watched as the Escort pulled out the slip off paper, a look of pity already on my face. That, is, until I heard the name. My name.

As you can see, I changed as little as possible. If you are confused or upset by any changes then please message me.

As ever, here is the list of things you can buy for tributes and who has points. You can't get any points for submitting tributes now, of course, but you can get points for review the chapters, so please do, if you want to help your favourite tribute survive, that is!

Points:

Elena:20

White Horse: 20

Elven Thief: 40

EY Ink: 20

Time. To. Vaporise. A. Maths. Teacher: 20

SoySauce17: 40

Pisces. TJ: 20

Miss-J'x: 20

Pass the peas and pies please: 20

Callmetribute104: 20

Loveisintheair22: 20

SeekerDraconis: 20

Fuzzman88: 40

LuvsDumbledee97: 20

Loveisintheair22: 20

SakuraDrops141: 20

DaAnimeChick: 20

This is what you can buy:

Water Purification Tablets: 5P

Matches: 5P

Food (small amount): 10P

Food (Medium): 15P

Food (Big): 20P

Weapon (average): 20P

Weapon (good): 30P

Medicine (normal): 20P

Medicine (Capitol): 25P

Refill of Ammunition (Arrows, darts, etc): 10P

Clothing: 10P

Anything else, please message me and I will tell you how much. This will be trickier if you do not have an account. If you do not have enough points and no account, I will simply not give the tribute the object, but I will post it up here in the next chapter.

This list will be updated, and things will get more expensive. The points list will be updated every chapter as well.