And here's 10! :)

Lloc Shazwick POV

They think that I can't hear them talking in the other room. But i can. It's always the same old argument whenever we visit Becky at the Hospital.

"Will, we can't keep living like this; we barely have enough money to support ourselves and Lloc. We only have enough because our son keeps takes the tesserae! Becky needs to come home".

"You know why we can't do that Driane! Leukaemia is a death sentence without the proper treatment, and at least here at the hospital they can keep her alive long enough... maybe some scientist up in the Capitol might find a cure, we just can't know!"

My family isn't rich, but we make do. We own a llama farm which is actually pretty rare in these parts. District 10 is mostly concerned with other livestock like cows and sheep. Llama wool might be a better quality than sheep wool, but our farm is small and we just can't compete with the market. My dad always says that these things take time, but it could be years or decades before we're actually financially stable.

I squeeze my sister's hand tighter and she offers a weak smile back in return. It just isn't fair. She's my older sister; at 16 she's too young to be dying. A tear escapes from the corner of my eye, but I wipe it away before she can see it. No use upsetting her even more, especially since today is Reaping day. My family was so relieved when our application to have Becky removed from the Reaping lottery was accepted. We couldn't stand to see her slowly wither away in a hospital bed, let alone watch her butchered on TV for everyone to see.

I give my sister one last kiss on the cheek before I stand up and leave her room. My parents are just sitting silently now, they know that neither one of them is going to give in to the other. "I'm heading over to the Reapings now" I whisper.

My mother just bows her head and cries, but my father comes up and hugs me tight.

"It's going to be ok son. We'll find a way. We always do"

I nod and practically run out of the hospital. My brown curls whip back and forth across my face blurring my vision, but i don't care. I just run, trying to escape this stupid unfair life. I don't understand why my father puts so much faith in the Capitol. It's their fault we're in this mess. Segregating and separating the masses into 12 supposedly self-sufficient districts. But we're not self-sufficient. Those greedy bastards just want it all for themselves. All of the hard work that we do day-in and day-out goes straight to the Capitol. Nothing gets given back to us and we suffer for it. But there's no use fighting the system. One person can't do a thing to change a society that's been running for over 200 years.

I realise that I have to stop. I was sprinting so hard that I completely ran out of breath. I take a few moments to breathe before taking in my surroundings. From what I can see, I'm in a small clearing of trees, but they look cultivated and not wild. I'm ok; I must've run straight through the Mayor's property; he's the only person in this whole District bothered enough by appearances to have his trees trimmed.

Luckily it's not far from here to the square where the Reapings are held, or I'd be in big trouble with the Peacekeepers for missing it. I can't run though, I'm just too tired, so i walk the distance and thankfully I'm not the last to arrive. The Peacekeepers still don't like stragglers so i make my way quickly and quietly to where the other 14 year old boys are standing. I see a few of my friends and wave, but i make no effort to go over to them. I'm just not in the right mood to be with people right now. I also notice a few of the girls across the square pointing at me and giggling amongst themselves. I look away, the girls can think what they want about me, but i can't deal with that right now. I have a sister to look after.

Our escort steps up on the stage and flashes one of her award-winning smiles. Or, it would be award-winning- if she wasn't wearing tonnes of make-up. "Welcome everybody from District 10 to this year's Hunger Games!"

Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard to me, and I clench my jaw in pain at the sound.

"And now, for the moment I'm sure you've all been waiting for, the announcement of this year's Male tribute!" She reaches into the bowl and opens the piece of paper, smiling as if she's just unwrapped her favourite chocolate. "Lloc Shazwick!"

I freeze. This cannot be happening to me. But everyone's watching, I can't afford to look weak, not now. I put on my bravest face and walk up to the stage. Our escort shakes my hand, but I could care less. Can this really be happening to me? A billion thoughts are running through my head, but two are screaming at me the loudest. If i win, i could help my sister. She'd get all the care she'd ever need and I'd finally be able to look after her the way I've always tried to. But on the other hand; only one person can survive the games. I'm a protector, not a murderer. Can I really bring myself to kill another human being?...

Hydrangea Aster Anemone POV

The damp soil doesn't feel cold under my hands, but then again nothing really does. I pull the onion out of the ground and smile. I might not be able to feel pain, cold or heat, but when my stomach grumbles I know that it's time to eat. I can't help that I was born this way, and thankfully with my father's help I was able to accept it. My mother on the other hand, well she's a completely different story. I gnaw at the raw vegetable with vigour. My little garden in the woods helps to ease the burden of having to find food, but I've only managed to scavenge a few plants from the surrounding areas and grow them here.

I think my mum blames me for my father's death. Well, he was protecting me and I was the one who survived. I shudder as I remember that day.

It happened two and a half years back, just before my 15th birthday. I had been walking home late one night from the fields. I like to work at night; the moonlight does considerably less damage than the sun to my sensitive Albino skin. Even with the long coat and hat my Dad gave to me it's still not enough protection. The only problem is I can't even feel the heat, so i don't know I'm burning until i see myself in the mirror, and by then it's too late. This particular night a few men from the neighbouring farm were drinking far too much, and decided that it would be funny to test out if the 'creepy white kid' as I am called around town, really couldn't feel pain. They cornered me, and pinned me down so I couldn't move. One of them had a knife, and he straddled me while the other two held me down. "Why don't you give me a smile princess?" he asked me. I didn't want to give in so I kept my mouth clamped firmly shut. This seemed to enrage him. "Fine." He said, "I'll just have to make you smile!" With that he slashed at my face. I screamed. Not in pain, but in fear. I felt my mouth open wider than it should have. His slash had sliced my cheek open along the line of my lips.

I touch my hand to the wicked scar that is still present today. It runs from the right side of my mouth almost all the way up to my ear. I know it could have been worse, had my dad not heard my scream and come running. He bowled over the man with the knife and kicked him in the head. My dad Rian was no fighter, but he was like a warrior that night. The man with the knife went down, and the others let go of me. My dad screamed at me to run, but i couldn't. He was too busy trying to fend off the two in front of him that he never saw the man with the knife raise himself from the ground behind him. I tried to call to him, tried to scream for help but my mouth just wouldn't work. I watched my father die that day, all because some idiots decided it would be funny to torture a young girl.

I hear rustling in the bushes and leap up, immediately striking a defensive pose. My father might be dead, but at least he taught me how to defend myself before he died.

"Whoa, hold up there Smiley it's just me". My cousin Hadyn says as he enters my grotto. He is the only one beside's me that knows about this place. I'm afraid that if my mother found out she'd come here and destroy it. Everyone knows she wishes I'd never been born, and she's tried to kill me more than once already. That's why I'm living out here on my own. "I asked about you at the house and Azalea said she hasn't seen you in a while. She misses you, you know?"

I nod and bow my head. Azalea is my little sister, and my mother's golden child. Aside from Hadyn, she's the only one who really cared about me since my father died. After I ran away, I'd come around every once in a while and Azalea would sneak me food. She helped me survive and I will forever be in her debt. "I miss her too" I whisper.

"C'mon, turn that frown upside-down Ranger!" he says trying to cheer me up. "Its Reaping day, and i personally can't wait to see that peacock of an escort Francis Danes prancing around stage".

He's the only one who makes jokes about my face, and I'm grateful for it. I don't need anyone's pity. He's also one of the few people who call me Ranger. Apparently when I was younger I couldn't say my name properly, but I said 'Ranger' instead. I guess the nickname just stuck.

Hadyn walks with me to the Reaping, not caring about the people around us who stare. He never does. He tries to cheer me up with jokes and funny anecdotes, which usually end with a particularly cheesy punch line, followed with a punch in the arm by me. Of course i would never tell him that his jokes were actually funny; couldn't have his already massive ego inflating any bigger because then I'd never hear the end of it.

We're one of the last to arrive and get there just in time to see the male tribute walking onto the stage. Hadyn points at him "isn't that the llama boy?" he asks.

"Yeah, and his name is Lloc, not llama, but i can see how you can get the two confused. His dad calls himself a 'llama whisperer' actually".

Hadyn looks at me shocked. "A joke? From you? I must be losing my mind."

I punch him in the arm again. "No I'm serious, and i only know this because my sister has had a crush on him since she was like five".

Hadyn gives me a 'sure sure' look while we wait for the announcement of the female tribute.

"Hydrangea Aster Anemone!"

Wait, what! My name was just called? How can this be? Hadyn looks about as stunned as I feel. And that's when the entire crowd point their stares in my direction. I have two options; I can crawl up into a ball and pretend this is just a bad dream, or i get up there and show this district – and my mother- that i am made of stronger stuff than that.

Straightening my spine, I walk straight through the crowd. Nobody moves for me, and i don't expect them to. These were kids that bullied and tormented me for years. They're not even worth my notice. I don't feel the angry shoves in my back, or the attempts at stepping on my feet. I just keep my eyes on the stage and tune out everything else. Francis practically recoils as I walk up the steps to take my position on the podium. All I can see is a sea of judgmental faces.

I've been told that the scar on my face makes me look I'm smirking even when I'm expressionless. For the first time in a long time, I smile the widest smile I can. Those judgmental faces turn to horror when they see my wicked grin.

It's not my fault, never my fault. It was their fault. They wanted to see me smile, and now they have.

I'm really sorry if a few of these tributes have turned out a little darker than you initially envisioned. I guess i just lean towards the tortured soul type of character, so when you give me tributes with troubled pasts i just find the need to explore it in great detail, maybe a little too much :P

Let me know what you all think, reviews are great and i'm probably the most receptive person when it comes to receiving criticism; both constructive and destructive.