A/N Aaaaaaand…. The Non-Reapings are over! Done with! Complete! In the past! Yay! Unfortunately, the second semester of school starts tomorrow for me, so updates won't be as frequent… probably. Y'all can always hope.

I do apologize if this chapter is just a bit rushed. I wantedd to get it out before school began

Ezra Robins, 18, District Twelve Male

"Yes sir," I say with a smile, "I'll clean this place out and be gone in about thirty minutes."
The merchant man nods. I can tell that he's holding back a look of disgust. I just came from my work hours in the mines, so I'm not exactly the spitting image of cleanliness (Is anything in District Twelve?). "Thank you," he says, "How much do I pay you for this?"

"Just ten," I say.

"Okay. Come find me afterward," he says, "and I'll pay you."

"Got it."

Mr. Whatever-it-was goes back indoors and leaves me with his shed. You'd think that I'd know his name at this point — after all, he regularly asks me to do odd jobs — but I don't bother. Who cares about them anyway? As long as I get my money, I'm happy. That's all merchants are good for.

I look around the small, dirty shed and then down at my cleaning supplies. Welp, I'd better get to work. He probably hasn't cleaned this place out in years, if ever. The floor, shelves, and even parts of the walls are covered in coal dust and regular dust, and tools are all over everything. Buckets and boxes and stacked haphazardly in the back; it's a wonder it hasn't completely fallen apart. I wonder how much money I could make off the things in here. Judging by the looks of it, he hasn't used most of these in years. He wouldn't miss them if I look a few things or so. But first, I need to get everything in order. Then he'll have a reason to pay me.

First, I take all the tools out and stack the paint cans and boxes outside the shed so I can clean the inside out. Armed with a spray bottle and an old rag, I scrub the walls and shelves until they're clean. Next, I mop the floor. That wasn't too bad. Now for the boxes.

When I look inside the first one, I find a collection of old, worthless woodcarvings, probably only here because of some emotional attachment. They're completely useless to me, though, because they won't sell for much money. I take the box and neatly place it in the corner. In the next box, I find a metal necklace. That'll work. I slip it into my pocket and double check the box for any other valuables before placing it on the previous box. Onto the rest.

By the time I finish, I have the necklace, as well as a few bottles of alcohol. I'm not sure what they were doing here, but they were in the most recent box. This should get me enough money for food for the next few days.

I step back and look at my work. The boxes and paint cans are stacked neatly along the back wall, while the tools lay on shelves and hang from walls. Now to get the mister.

I knock on the door, which he promptly opens. After a quick inspection (He doesn't trust us "Seam trash," and for good reason), he hands me a bill and wishes me good luck. I smile. He doesn't suspect a thing as he locks the door. It's interesting. He doesn't trust us as a whole, yet he trusts me enough to clean out his shed. Whatever reason, it's a paradox that works in my favor. I wave goodbye and leave.

As soon as I'm out of sight, I jog to the Center, our name for the new black market that grew after the Hob became subject to random raids for being a rebel base. It's located in the middle of a huge complex of storage facilities, and it's almost ironic as that building could house over half the district, if the Capitol would only let us use it, but of course it's "symbolic" or something, and that, my friends is why we have homeless people. Oh, and also because the merchants are sapping our money. It's only fair that we take some back.

This afternoon, the Center is fairly quiet. I stroll over to Jina's stall/crates of random things. Unlike most of the people selling things here, Jina, an old, mischievous lady, is a permanent seller here. After she broke her left arm, she became useless in the mines, and she's been here ever since.

"Good afternoon," she says when she sees me approaching, "What've you got for me today?"

I put on a smile, though it's the last thing I want to do after a long day of work. She pays more to people she likes. "Well," I say, "I've got this necklace." I hold it out.

She carefully inspects it. "Not bad, not bad. It's not worth much, though."

I nod. "Yes, I know. That's why I also have this." I hold up the two bottles of alcohol.

She smiles a toothless grin. "Now that's what I'm used to seeing from you." She digs around in her pocket. "I'll give you fourty."

Fourty. That's a little more than I expected. "It's all yours," I say, taking the money, "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." She smiles. "Now how's that brother of yours… what was his name? He hasn't been around lately."

"Oliver? He's doing great. He's seeing that Washton girl."

"Oh, that's wonderful," she says, "That reminds me…"

"I'm very sorry," I say, trying to get out of sticking around for her stories which I've heard a couple hundred times. "I don't have much time. I just wanted to stop by and give you what I got."

"Well then. See you soon."

I rush out of the Center and head home, my mind going over a list of things to do. First there's homework. I'm graduating soon, so I won't have to worry about it anymore, but for now, I've got a lot of work. There's also-

I crash into someone, and I find myself staring into cold, blue eyes.

"Seam trash," the man mutters.

"Merchant filth," I reply.

He grabs me by the shoulders. "Don't talk to me like that."

Fine, I silently communicate, staring back at him with narrowed eyes. I don't need words to express my disgust for you.

He shoves me backwards and leaves with a grunt. Those merchants. They think they rule the world because they have a bit more money than we do. When the day comes, we'll take back District Twelve. It'll belong to those of us that actually work for it. Oh, I've been training for that day. Little do those pigs know that all over the district, we have members preparing to reclaim our district from them.

Someday.

Keesa Ambel, 15, District Twelve Female

The sun shines brightly through the school windows today, after several days of rain. The pool's probably near full — if not full — and I'll have to go for a swim as soon as I can. I slowly walk down the school hall beside Lux and Briette.

"But seriously," Lux complains, pausing to brush aside his relatively long, jet-black hair. I think he's getting a haircut soon. "As it wasn't bad enough that they're always lording it over us, as if they're so much better than we are just because they have money and their blue eyes. I'm like, 'Just leave us alone. We don't need your noses in our business.' "

"You're not wrong," Briette says in her soft, gentle voice. "But don't overdo it. This probably isn't the best place to talk about it." I look around. Though most of us in this school are Seam kids, a few merchants are floating around.

As if on cue, a better-fed, muscular body casually pushes me to the side and puts his arm around Briette.

"Excuse me," I snap.

He turns his head, and his blue eyes stare back at me. Callio. My nose still tingles from the time he broke it. "You're excused," he says with a smirk, "I'll do what I want to."

Lux, indignant shoves him away as Briette pushes his arm off of her. "Stay away from my sister," Lux demands, "You merchant pigs."

"Pigs?" Callio says, "You're the one that'll eat anything."

"Stay away," I say, backing Lux and raising my voice. We definitely have more of us, and it'll be the best for us if I can get the support of the people around us. "No one likes it when you try to act all snugly with one of us. Get Out." A few heads turn.

He looks around, quickly noticing that he's the one outnumbered here. Trying to keep his dignity, he stalks off.

"That's exactly what I was talking about!" Lux huffs, "Merchant kids think they can do whatever they want."

I laugh bitterly. "Welcome to District Twelve. If only someone would put them in their place — Oh wait, they practically control everything here."

Briette sighs. "Don't be so negative. Life's bad enough; you don't have to make it worse."

I nod, knowing she's right. We've reached the school doors. "Well, I'll see y'all tomorrow."

I open the doors into the yard outside, and I call for my younger sisters, Netta and Canary so that we can go home.

"Sorry, I'm a bit late today," I apologize.

"It's fine," Netta, thirteen, says, "What happened?" Gosh, she's just like Dad — outspoken, loud, yet caring.

"Nothing really," I say and put on a smile, though it really was something. "I just got lost chatting." I inwardly sigh in relief when Netta's face seems to relax. "How were y'all's days?"

Netta's face brightens. "Well, I thought it was going to suck because of that test today, but I feel pretty good about it. Besides, I'm sure that Sikes Thornes failed it, so that's even better." Sikes is another merchant kid, one that constantly giving her trouble. It's sad how they've already developed so much hate.

"How about you?" I ask Canary.

"Good," she says, a quiet smile on her face.

"How so?"

"We have music class now."

"That's wonderful!" I say. Canary has a singing voice unparalleled by any of us, so it's wonderful that she gets some experience in this.

Once we reach home, a three-room building, I get them started on homework before preparing dinner. Mom and Dad are both working late tonight. Our neighbor hunts a bit, and he shared a bit of meat with us. I can use that to make soup to go with the tesserae bread. Bread and soup. It isn't much, but it's filling and easy. We also have a few wild onions I found growing beside the electric fence, so i'll throw them in as well. It'll be half-decent tonight.

I quickly put the knife away after chopping up the onions. My brother Jacob will be home from the babysitter soon, and since he's a five-year-old, it's always a good idea to keep sharp objects out of the way.

"Keesa?" Netta calls.

I rush over. "Yes?"

"Do you know how to do this problem?" she says, pointing to one of her math problems.

A two-step equation. "Okay…" I give her a quick explanation, making sure she gets it, before finishing up the last bit of preparations for dinner. Once Jacob gets back, we'll eat. After that, I'll work on my homework.

I really don't understand the point of homework sometimes, or even school past basic elementary stuss. If they just want us to be coal miners, what's the point? All we really need to know is how to read and write. Everything else mostly doesn't get used. Maybe they just want to provide an alternative to putting kids to work in the mines. If that's the case, I can't complain.

I put the "kitchen" side of the room in order and wipe down the counter. Just because we're poor doesn't mean we have to live like pigs. After looking around to make sure everything's in place, I sit down for a few moments of rest.

Someone knocks on the door. Jacob's here. I take a deep breath. Back to work.

Questions:

1. Thoughts on Ezra? How do you like him? Predictions?

2. Thoughts on Keesa? How do you feel about her personality? Predictions?

3. Likes/Dislikes?

4. What do you look forward to in the new year?

A/N The next chapter will be a character recap, since most of you wanted one, but I'll try to fit it into a reaping chapter so that we don't spend too much time on this. I really don't know when the next update will be, but it should be within a week.

See y'all,

~Joseph