-Bolt Zicon-

"So how are you feeling right now?" The psychiatrist was sitting on a big, red, comfy leather chair and he had an electronic notepad in front of him.

"I feel... Hungry." The skinny, short seventeen year old said, looking up to the ceiling. The psychiatrist sighed. His patient was obviously under-fed. He looked in his suit case and tossed him a health bar, a snack the psychiatrist really wanted to eat with his lunch?

"What are your emotions right now?" The psychiatrist stared at his patient intently.

"Alone."

"Alone?"

"I need a father." Bolt started tearing up at the mention of the word father. "I really wish I could have been good enough for Dad to love me." A tear ran down Bolt's face.

"Well you have your mother." The psychiatrist said, typing something on his electronic device.
"Will a mom teach me how to hunt? Will a MOM teach me how to fight?" Bolt yelled, sitting up. "WILL a MOM teach me how to FISH? WILL A MOM TEACH ME HOW TO FIX A FRIGGIN CAR?" Bolt got up and walked to the bookshelf, punching it to let off steam.

"Bolt, I need you to calm down right now. Have you been using your medication?"

"OF COURSE I HAVE!" Bolt lied, throwing a book across the room. "WHY? AM I NOT NORMAL TO YOU?"
"Bolt, let's move on." The psychiatrist suggested, motioning to the couch that Bolt was laying on previously.

Bolt looked at the couch and smiled. "Sure thing! It's comfy enough!" He jumped on the couch.

"Tell me about the time when your father left." The psychiatrist ordered, lowering his glasses.

"Well," Bolt smiled. "I had gotten back from work at the factory and Liza had talked to me for the first time. I thought it was the best day ever until I got home and saw the note my dad had left on my bed."

"What did the note say?"

Bolts smile turned into a frown. He looked as if he was returning to the day he saw the letter.

"Some of the words are a bit hazy." Bolt lied. He remembered it, word for word.

"It's okay. Just recite what you know."

Bolt,
I really want to love you, but I can't. You have too many issues that I am not prepared to deal with. I left you your mother, I didn't make her come with me. I wish I could say that I will always love you, but I can't. I can't live a minute longer with your bipolar disorder. You are too messed up. ... I can't say that I love you now, but I can say that I loved you when you were a child. If anybody asks, I am not your dad. I can't consider you 'son'. Please accept this and don't try to contact me again.
Sincerely, Ryan

"He couldn't even acknowledge me as son. He signed it... Ryan." Bolt got up. "I have to go." He grabbed his jacket and ran out of the door.

-Lillana Kitch-

"When are you working 'till today?" Lillana Kitch asked her mother through a hologram.

"Until around 11:00." Her mother, Jane, answered, preoccupied with the different electionics scattered around the office.

"P.M.?" Lillana looked down, nervously awaiting an answer.

"Yeah." Her mother, Beth, answered, checking different messages on her interactive message board, which was a bit like an iPad from around 2012.

"So, you will miss the reaping?" Lillana asked, head still down.

"Yeah." Her mother answered, looking up. "Oh Lillana, don't pout. It's not as if you'll get reaped!"
"I might!" Lillana protested, looking up.

"Oh, Lillana, don't be ridiculous! And fix your hair."

Lillana pushed her long, red,wavy hair back and sighed heavily. "Fine, mom. You're probably right." Lillana pushed the 'Hang up' button and dove in her bed. She immediately screamed in her pillow and checked the time. 10:15 A.M. The reaping would start in an hour and forty-five minutes.
She made her way to her vanity. Her mother was right. Her hair was a mess, and it needed to be fixed. She brushed through her long, dark red hair. It looked as if she's just recently come out of the ocean, so it was extremely messy. Lillana took out her curling iron and let it heat up. While waiting, she went into her closet. Fashion was her main concern right now, and she was really focused on what to wear.
She threw a yellow dress on the ground, then a pink skirt, then a black T-Shirt. She brushed her hair back with her hand again. She had nothing to wear, which was pretty bad because the thing she was known for around District 3 was her sense of fashion. It wasn't the ugly Capitol fashion she was interested in, if you could even call that fashion. It was a more subtle, yet chic type of fashion.
Her curling iron beeped and she sat down, slowly taking small strands of hair and twisting them around the iron.

Maybe I can wear that red dress with the bow on the one shoulder. No, too much. The reaping isn't THAT formal. Maybe a jean skirt and a T-Shirt would do? No, too casual. There had to be SOMETHING she could wear. She turned around, still curling her hair. She saw a light green scarf with sparkles on it and spun her wheely chair around to face the mirror again. She let go of the iron and sprayed her hair in place, unplugging the iron. That was the last strand. Her hair was flawless. Bouncy, voluminous, perfect!

She decided on a light green pick-up style dress that went to her knees with the light green scarf, black flats, and a black belt. She found some black ribbon and quickly made her way to the sewing machine to work two strands of ribbon just on the bottom right corner of her dress. It was her trademark. She always wore two stripes on the lower half of her outfit.

Now for makeup. She sat at her vanity again and smiled at her reflection. She looked almost perfect. The black on her outfit complimented her grayish-blue eyes. She just needed a touch of black on her eyelids - wait, where was her black eyeshadow? Lillana opened up all of her drawers, before just sitting there frowning.

"PRECIOUS! ANGEL!" Lillana screamed at the top of her lungs. A pair of seven year old twins guiltily came into her room. "Where is MY eyeshadow?"

"Angel took it!" Precious said, pointing at her seven year old twin.

"NUH-UH!" Angel said, pushing Precious. "YOU took it so you could play the EVIL WITCH!"

"That's a lie!" Precious said, pushing Angel back. "YOU played the evil witch. I played the princess.""I don't care who took it, I just want it back!" Lillana said, holding her hand out. Precious sighed and gave her the eyeshadow she was hiding behind her back.

"THANK you." Lillana said, angrily, sitting down. "What did Zebba make for dinner?"

"Oh, thats right! Zebba called and said she was running late and couldn't make dinner."

"WHAT?" Lillana sat there and fumed. "I didn't save up all of my babysitting money for three years to hire a maid that would bail at the time I needed her most!" Lillana rolled her eyes. "ZAYN!"

Lillana got up and walked out of her room down the hall. She pounded on her brothers door. Music was blasting from his room. "ZAYN! I NEED YOUR HELP!" No answer. "ZAYN!"

"WHAT?" Zayn asked, opening the door. Lillana stared at him in disgust. How could two siblings be so... Different? She was so well kept and looked so nice and his hair was down to his shoulders and dyed black. He even wore eyeliner and tattoos.

"Why aren't you getting ready for the reaping?" She asked, waving away the stench coming from his room.

"I'm not going." He started to close the door but she stopped it with her arm.

"The Capitol will kill you." Lillana reminded him.

"They will never know."

I need you to feed the girls. Zebba is running late."

"You're the chef in this house." Zayn said, closing the door again. Lillana stopped it again.

"I ALWAYS cook and I NEED to get ready. Just put a frozen pizza in the oven or something."

"No!" Zayn coughed, closing the door.

"YOU'RE EIGHTEEN NOW. ITS TIME TO START DOING YOUR PART." She pounded on the door. "ZAYN!" Then she had an idea. "OH! I GET IT. YOU'RE NOT SKILLED ENOUGH. YOU COULDN'T COOK DINNER EVEN IF YOU TRIED. ALL YOU CAN DO IS LISTEN TO MUSIC."

Suddenly, the door opened and she jumped back. "Oh, yeah? I will be right back."

-Bolt Zicon-

Bolt walked to the seventeen-year-old section in his green T-Shirt and tan dress pants. It was his nicest clothing. Almost as soon as he got there, a video tape started playing about the rebellion that took place just a few months before. Why were they showing this video? It was 30 minutes long and about 30 minutes too long at that.

"Welcome, welcome!" A woman onstage said in a sing-song voice. Her hair was about 7 feet long and was standing up at the top of her head. She had a gold tattoo on the side of her face. "My name is Zelda Beckerman but you may call me Z-Beck! Now, we have all seen the public service announcement last week on the television explaining what the Hunger Games are, so I see no need for a long, drawn-out introduction. Let's get started!"

She made her way over to the guys bowl. "Lets do men first!" She said. She picked up the first piece of paper. "Is there a Bolt Zicon anywhere in the audience?"

The crowd cheered. Nobody liked Bolt. In fact, they all absolutely hated him because of his unpredictable bipolar disorder. He looked at the cheering crowd and two bigger men literally carried him onstage, as he was kicking and screaming.

"Hello, Bolt. Have you anything to say?" Z-Beck held a microphone up to Bolts mouth and he screamed at the top of his lungs, tears running down his face. He ran around and jumped off the stage to run away, but the two boys were at the bottom of the stage to catch him and bring him back up. Everybody laughed. He kept saying that he didn't want to go. "Bolt! Do you have anything to say?" Z-Beck asked again, getting a bit concerned.

Bolt just stood there for a few seconds, before jumping up. "YYEESSSSSS!" he said, cheering. He ran around, pumping his fist in the air. "YES I DO!" He yelled in the microphone. "THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE."

Z-Beck looked at him like he had five heads and lifted the microphone to her own lips. "Now on to the girls." She announced, confused.

-Lillana Kitch-

Every seventeen year old held hands. If one of them was picked, they wouldn't know what to expect but every one of them wanted a support system. They all knew that, despite what would happen, they had the support of the seventeen year olds around them. Lillana held her friends hands particularly tight. For one brief moment, she felt a connection with everybody her age.

Z-Beck made her way to the opposite glass bowl. She cleared her throat and let her hand make its way into the bowl. She played around for the perfect paper for a bit before picking one near the bottom. She took it out of the bowl and unfolded the paper. She looked up and scanned the crowd, looked down, and cleared her throat."LILLANA KITCH!"

Lillana stood there, paralyzed. She could feel the hundreds and hundreds of eyes just staring at her, waiting for a reaction. She scanned the crowd for her parents, Rowan and Jane, but of course they weren't there.

This has to be a joke.

This has to be a joke.

This is a joke.

This can't be real.

They're joking.

Oh, God, please let it be a joke.

She felt a shove forward but didn't have the willpower to look back and see who it was.

"Lillana Kitch?" Z-Beck said into the microphone again.

This isn't a joke.

Lillana reluctantly made her way up to the stage, millions of thoughts running through her head.

Who is going to take care of the twins? Will I die? Will they make my death slow and painful? Will they take care of my family or just leave them to die, as well?

It seemed like a seven hour walk of shame but she finally made her way to the stage.

"Hello, hello, Lillana. Have you anything to say?" Z-Beck held the microphone up to Lillana just stared forward.

Frozen.

Scared.

"Okay, then! Will our tributes please make their way to the Justice Building? The families and friends will have 5 minutes each with them!"

-Bolt Zicon-

Bolt sat on the couch, praying to God that his father would come in and cry for his son. That he would say that he was proud of him and that he loved him.

That never happened.

Instead, his mother came in hysterically. She wasn't even capable of forming words, so she wrote it down on some notebook paper.

Bolt,

I love you.

Despite what others think of you, you're perfect.

You will win.

I am on your side.

I am betting on you.

It was hard for her to see what she was writing with the tears forming up in her eyes. He could hardly read it, because her hand shaking made the letters barely legible. He read it, and for a brief moment it didn't seem like he had a bipolar disorder. He was just sad. He just cried.

His mother took a yellow wire from her pocket and started to tie it around his wrist as a token, but a peacekeeper stopped her.

"The Capitol won't allow that as a token. It could be used as weaponry. Now, it's time for you to go."
Bolts mother let out a scream of loss and agony. "NO! I am all he has! He is all I have! BOLT!"

She was gone

And as much as he didn't want to believe it, he knew no one else was coming for him.

-Lillana Kitch-

Lillana sat on the red couch of the Justice Building in a fetal position. Millions of thoughts were running through her head at once, but her main concern was her two win sisters. They fought, but she loved them.

Her mother came walking through the door slowly, starting to cry at the sight of her daughter.

"Mom, you said you didn't get off of work until 11!"

"Someone called me and told me. I couldn't stay at work and not say goodbye to you."

"Yeah? Well maybe you should have. Do you know how much money you are losing right now? You need to support Precious and Angel. That IS your first priority, RIGHT?"

"Yeah."

"YES or NO. It's time to be serious. Are you going to act like a MOTHER to them for once in their lives?" Lillana hated being so mean, but she needed to be stern to her mother so she could be sure her sisters would be okay.

"Yes, yes." Lillana looked at her hysterical mother and pulled her in for a hug. "I am so sorry I wasn't a good mother."

"Mom, don't reflect on the past right now. Look at the present. I love you." Lillana squeezed her mother tighter. Her mother never protected her in her life, but for some odd reason Lillana still felt protection when she hugged her mother.

Jane, Lillana's mother, felt a tear fall on her shoulder.

"2 minutes!" A peacekeeper announced, which made Jane abruptly break the hug. "I have this for you." Jane removed a diamond necklace from around her neck and went behind Lillana to put it on her. She went to the front of Lillana and gave her a weak smile, just staring in awe at the beautiful young woman she had become.

"Tell me, how did you become such a perfect young lady when you didn't even have a mother to guide you?" Lillana didn't answer, she didn't know whether to smile at that or feel sad. "The necklace is an apology. I know it's not nearly what you deserve for seventeen years of neglect and seven years of mothering two children but -"

"Mom, don't reflect on the past. Look at the present. I love you" Lillana repeated, pulling her mother again for another hug.