I'm back!

Sorry about not finishing the reapings by the time a said I would, guys. Updating will be much slower from now on, but I'll try to get the last of the reapings and the opening ceremonies chapters up before I fly off to another vacation.

Fun Fact of the Chapter: This tribute was originally submitted for District 11, 10, or 8. Unfortunately, those were some of the first female spots to be filled, so Riley had to relocate to Twelve.

…..

Riley Rynne, District Twelve

I wake up staring at the cracks in the training center ceiling. For a moment I'm confused, and then the pain hits. Pain, all over my body. I let out a low moan and roll onto my side, closing my eyes again.

"Hey, Riley," says a voice from behind me.

"Hey, Danielle," I breathe out, trying to sit up.

My only friend crouches down beside me and offers her hand. "Are you okay?"

I make it to my feet and stare at her. "No. I'm not okay."

She frowns, sympathy in her eyes, and stretches out her arms for a hug. I accept it gladly, and try my best not to cry. "Everything's going to work out," she promises me in a hushed voice. "Someday, we'll get back at them. Someday, we'll make sure that they never hurt you again." She draws back and grabs a sword from the old rack. "We'll run them through with our swords, and show them no mercy. Right?"

"Right," I mutter halfheartedly, walking over to grab my own sword.

Danielle's family runs the Training Center, back from the old, short days when Twelve was a Career district. It fell out of use as the Capitol decided we weren't worthy enough, and now only a few, brave, rich families can afford to send their children there—not to volunteer for the Games, oh no, but just to be more prepared than the others. Y'know, just in case.

My family doesn't know I train. It's a favor from Danielle. My parents certainly have enough money to do so, but they hate me too much to give me a chance to survive in the Games. In fact, they'd probably be calling for my blood.

But it's a safe place, as far as places go, and if I ever need anything, Danielle is sure to supply it. She's amazing. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to her. Go back to being abused, I guess.

Today is the day of the Reaping, and while I certainly don't enjoy the day, I can't help but feel relieved. A rest day for me, of sorts. No need to go back to the house. Just straight to the City Square, to sign in for the Reaping. The ceremony takes hours, which is hours less that my parents get to slash me with knives and lash me with a whip.

I don't know why they do it. Danielle says that they're just sadists, and would do it to anybody. But I point out that my older sister and my twin brother don't get treated the same way. Maybe it's a youngest child thing, or some kind of traumatic incident.

Whatever. I don't care. I get hurt, sure, but I can always run away. And, once I get strong enough, I can face them.

If I'm not shattered to pieces first.

Not that anyone can tell. I put on this act. Confident, confident, confident. For the most part, it works. No one ever sees my brokenness, except Danielle.

I put on my confident act as I walk to the Reaping with Danielle, signing in, ignoring the malicious glares of my family which always disappear when someone else is around. The boys in the 16-year-olds' section can't stop staring at me. Confident, confident, confident.

The mayor of Twelve, a supposed descendant of Gale Hawthorne who never fails to remind us of that every year, mounts the stage and begins to read his speech. I pay no attention, nor does anybody else.

The escort bobbles over, a prim and proper lady with a strange accent named Jude Vesper, and draws her lips into a thin line. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor." Her voice is deep and commanding, with an air of superiority about it. "Ladies first."

She sticks her perfectly-manicured hand into the bowl on the right and draws out a name. "Riley Rynne."

I flinch as Danielle places a gentle hand on my shoulder, and then look into her eyes. Go on, then. I nod, and stride up to the stage, trying to look strong. Confident, confident, confident.

Jude Vesper looks me over critically for a moment, then nods her approval and turns to the boys' bowl. "Kirby Knightly."

It's a merchant boy, with blond hair and murky blue eyes. He's tall, and lumbers over to the stage with this shocked look on his face. 17 years old. Doesn't look like much of a threat, although I know you don't have to be a physical wonder to slice someone up...

Confident, confident, confident.

But deep down, I know I'm scared. I'm petrified. But I can't look it. Not in front of them. It would only give them pleasure. This is my final dignity.

I had hoped that my family wouldn't bother to visit me, but I hoped in vain. They came, with all their cruelty and hate. They didn't touch me. We didn't say much. They just glared, and occasionally smirked, and I can't help thinking how evil they are. I catch glimpses of regret in the eyes of my siblings, which provides a small relief.

Danielle comes after them, and she is much more sympathetic. She gives me the hugs and tears and encouragements that I always wished to get from my cold relations, and it is only after she leaves that I realize that she is the only reason I can stay strong. Without her, I crumble to pieces.