Dustin Proelia – District 9

The things we do for love. The things we do in pity. The things we do for money. The things we do in hatred. The things we do to survive.

All of this changes as soon as a tribute steps into the arena.

People become heroes or warriors. Others become an insatiable monster with a thirst for blood. In truth, we all become killers one way or another. We don't just kill others, we kill ourselves too. Even if one of this year's tributes does win, what's left for them? A mind full of guilt? A web of lies? A home and family that thinks they are a murderer? Or will they see themselves as a victor full of pride and surrounded by eternal glory?

Ebony, my girlfriend, strides over to me, her long hair flowing down past her shoulders, eyes twinkling in the golden sunlight. She laces her fingers through mine, linking our hands together. We're strolling through a field so yellow it's the color of butter. She gazes at me, pushing back her chocolate brown hair behind her ear. That smile of hers lights up the world even more as the golden hues spill onto the scenery.

We lay down, hand in hand, staring up at the sky. We point to the clouds, calling out what shape they look like. Ebony grins, curling up next to me as I hold her. "I wish we could stay like this forever," she whispers. She buries her head in my chest, breathing me in.

"Me, too," I reply softly. I stroke her hair, watching the clouds as they go dark and it begins to rain. Suddenly, Ebony is gone. My fingers are holding nothing but air.

"Dustin, it's time to get up," my mother says. I open my eyes, realizing it was just a dream. Ebony isn't with me and we aren't in a field where we could see the clouds. Mom shakes my shoulder gently and smiles. "I don't want you to be late. And you need to take your sister to her friend's house."

I nod, setting my feet on the ground. I run a hand through my shaggy, un-brushed hair. Light streams in through my window, warming up the room. Today's the Reaping, the worst day of the year. Today, two kids will be sent off to their death in a Game set up by the Capitol. One or both will die. The one that comes out will be the winner and not just that, a monster. No one really wins the Games. The scars still remain, it's impossible to get rid of. Some things can't be unseen, like killing other children. Even the Careers can't handle it. Some of the most brutal of tributes have killed themselves because they can't handle the guilt they hold in their black hearts.

My little sister, Amelina, skips in with her new dress on. "Dusty, will you tie my dress in the back?" She grins widely. It's kind of funny since she recently lost one of her front teeth and her adult one hasn't grown in yet.

"Sure thing," I tell her. She stands still for a few moments, enough to let me tie the back of her dress into a neat bow. After that, she's moving all about, jumping up and down. "Go have mom fix your hair, Amy." I'm the only one that calls her Amy and she's the only one that calls me Dusty. She nods, waving to me as she skips down the hall. She's only seven and I can't help but feel complete terror as she ages another year. For seven years she'll have to face the chance of being reaped.

Inside my closet, I pick a simple burgundy shirt and black pants. Downstairs, Amelina bounces in her seat as mom serves breakfast. A long time ago, a few weeks after Amelina was born, my father left. My father and I kept in touch with each other until he was killed by some gang banger who just wanted the paper and metal coins in his pockets. Too bad my father didn't have any.

"Did you sleep well, Dustin?" my mom asks, sitting down with us.

"Yeah. You?"

"Slept like a log." We laugh as we eat the wonderful breakfast my mom prepared.

After I clean up, I take Amelina to her friend's house. Before she goes with her friend, she stops me, pulling me down so I'm her height. "Promise you won't get picked," she says.

"You know I can't keep that promise," I tell her, truthfully.

"I know, just promise, Dusty," Amelina insists. She stares at me with her intense green eyes that she got from our dad. Sometimes I envy her because she looks like dad so much.

"I promise," I say. "As long as you promise you won't get reaped when you turn twelve. Promise me you won't get picked from the time you're twelve until you're eighteen. Then, when you turn nineteen, enjoy life." I hug her, then head off to the town square by myself.

My friend, Amicus, stands next to me silently. There's a large bruise across his face from where his father probably hit him. Usually, his father puts Amicus's name in the Reaping extra times with tesserae without his permission. I pray that Amicus's name won't be picked, especially since it's his last year. It's my last year too, so I hope I don't get picked. Plus, I promised Amelina I wouldn't be Reaped.

Two hands cover my eyes. "Guess who?" a soft voice says. It's almost melodic and sing song.

"I don't know…" I say, cracking a smile. "Is it my totally amazing girlfriend?" I turn around, seeing Ebony grinning at me. "I love you." Our lips meet in a tender kiss, then we break away. "Amicus, have you seen Lyra lately?"

"Nah, I broke up with her about a week ago. She was a bit clingy," he says with a shrug. "I'm seeing someone else. A girl named Novia."

"Congrats, man," I say, patting him on the back. I wrap my other arm around Ebony, holding her close. It's her last year too and we both know after the Reaping, we'll be free. We won't have to face going to the Games. After this year's Games are done with, I'm planning on proposing to Ebony. I've been saving up and by the end of this month, I'll have enough to buy her a ring.

Our escort comes up to the podium. Halo Laetus is a short woman that can just barely reach the microphone. It's humorous watching her try to look at the crowd over the stand. She finishes her speech about Panem rather quickly this year. "Let's see who the lucky girl tribute is this year!" She grabs a slip of paper with her small hand and reads the name. "Geminus Minx!"

I search for the girl and see her making her way to the stage. She's rather tall, about five foot eight or so. She looks strong and brave, but very young. She can't be older than fifteen. She could actually be about thirteen. She flips her hair confidently and puts herself in the chair farthest from our District Victor, Aspen Malem. Aspen is a very skinny woman that looks like she doesn't eat. Ever since her Hunger Games she seems to be eating less and less each day, like she's trying to starve herself.

"Time for the boys now!" Halo shouts. She reaches in for a name and calls it out a second later. Suddenly, Ebony's grip tightens around my arm and she's shaking. Her hair whips around her as she gives me wild and terrified eyes. That's when the name registers. "Dustin Proelia?" Halo repeats.

"No. No, no, no, no!" Ebony says, tears falling down her cheeks. She holds onto me as I move towards the stage. "No, please don't go. You can't. Dustin!" Her nails dig into my skin, drawing some blood. "NO!" Her scream rips through the air. I painfully remove her from my side, acting brave as I walk towards the stage. "Dustin!" she shrieks. Amicus is dragging her backwards. She reaches out to me, trying to volunteer, but Amicus has a strong grip around her and covers her mouth. He nods towards me, signaling that he'll take care of her for me.

Air whooshes into my lungs. I must've been holding my breath without realizing it. I shake Gem's hand, who smirks at me. I gulp. I can't let my fear show. I'll either come back a murderer or in a box. Hopefully, Ebony will still love me, especially if I become an animal in the arena.

One way or another, I'm going to have to decide what I do for love, hatred, and survival.