A/N: It's only now that I've realized how much I relate to all of your characters.

I think that's what makes them so fun to write.

Once again- Thank you so much for submitting your awesome tributes. I'm sad for what may happen in the future but at least I get to write for them anyways.

Disclaimer: Not Suzanne Collins... Yeah you got the drill...

Hope you enjoy the second to the last!

~District Eleven Reapings~

Rose Everwish's P.O.V.

"Morning Bed-head." Charlotte is blurry with my poor morning eyesight.

I lift my head up off the pillow, just noticing how much my hair has turned to a fuzzy texture. "Five more minutes… Please."

"But it's-"

"Reapings. I know. Shush. I'm trying to sleep." I wave my hand motioning to the door.

"Come on." Charlotte grabs my arm and drags me out of bed. I grab a fistful of warm blankets to drag along, keeping the ideal of peace still with me.

When I'm fully on the ground, Charlotte lies down beside me and stares up at the ceiling as I do.

For a long time we just lie and watch. "Is there a point in this?" She asks.

My finger points above us. "Can you see that small ripple in the paint up there?"

Charlotte nods slowly.

"And all the others also." The same reply shoots back. "If you just think hard enough. They make all these patterns."

Her eyebrows furrow together.

"See that bee by the flower? And the apple hanging over a cliff on a branch? It's like they all have different meanings."

The laughs and punches my arm. "You're-"

"Crazy? Never heard that before." I say giggling.

Charlotte sits up and looks out my window with fresh streaks across it.

"Charlotte! Come on! Before all the fruit is picked." I can hear her little brother squeal happily from the kitchen.

It's his first year getting to pick his own fruit at the fields.

This year's harvest has already begun. So far, we've been getting fruit from left to right. Everywhere you look, we seem to be up and blooming already.

Meaning extra fruit for all the kids.

After the house is quiet, except for the noise of mother boiling mother for our warm baths, I comb out all the knots so they don't get matted down when they're wet.

I find myself somewhat excited to go to the fields.

Even though we work all day, we finally get what we deserved.

A tint of sweetness in our lives.

~District Eleven Reapings~

Ryan Haven's P.O.V.

"One more time." Ben says spitting into the grass.

Watch as I roll in it when I tackle him. Just Great.

"You sure? You seem pretty tired to me." I say laughing mockingly.

Just as Ben is about to come at me, Maria walks in with two pairs of pants, whacking both of us with them eventually.

"Mom wants you to wear these. She ran to the shop to get them suited for you yesterday, so you better wear them." She says some what in a mood.

I stare at my pair for a while confused. "Just pants?"

"You have legs. Get the shirts yourselves." She says smiling.

I give a quick ruffle to her wavy, cocoa hair and walk into the kitchen wear mother is already starting to make us an early lunch.

If Maria really asks for it, then I'll help mom out in the kitchen. But Ben seems to be the first one coming for help.

Whether it's wrestling or homework, the boy sure knows fifty ways to ask a guy for some help.

I grab the dishtowel to my left and wipe my face for anything like salvia that seemed to drip out of my mouth while I was wrestling.

Callie should be here any minute and she's not going to want to hunt with a guy who looks like they just woke up.

"Excuse me. Could you use anything besides the dishtowel? We have to touch that while we cook you know."

Shit. I did let her family over.

I use my useful fake gasp in this equation. "Callie? The marvelous Callie? Cooking? Panem's coming to and end."

She shoots me a glare and gestures her head towards her dad behind her.

Mr. O'dair has believed Callie's false cooking for years. Only because she's brought mom's delicious leftovers over every night.

It's the deal we've made. She gives me all the catches, I bring them to mom, and she gets half of the result.

"What time should we head off?" My hand grabs the rucksack on the table. It's still filled with fresh kills from two days ago, but mom and Maria seem to have enough to work with.

She puts her white powdered hand onto her chin thinking. "I guess I could ask the twins to do it. Considering how much time they spend just following me around trying to be like me."

I nod a look at mom for approval.

She's never been overprotective, so I don't really know why I'm bothering to ask her.

Nothing comes from her. Not even a single word.

And that, in my case, is called an absolute yes.

XxXxXxXxXx

Maybe it's just my mind, but I hear humming like a tracker jacker nest.

Sure enough, when I look up, a nest is clear in sight.

I keep slouched against the tree for a while until I think about last year.

The year Callie figured out a second way to get out of the district to hunt.

The first was simple. Climb up the fence so that you're thirty feet into the air, and jump. Eventually after a minimum of four seconds, you will have broken enough bones to last five months recovery.

For the first time in our lives, we saw a tracker jacker nest.

We were lucky it was cracked open, on the ground, a ridden of stinging beasts.

You wouldn't believe how much a difference the honey makes from an ordinary bee hive.

It's so sweet you could say it's almost bitter. However, that's the best part.

Creamy and slightly tangy on the side. Just how I wished all our food tasted.

While I wait for Callie to come back with our weapons, I watch the nest hang on a branch over the fence.

Willingly I let myself get up and observe the small drops of honey slowly dripping down the chain links.

I take a small tasting test.

Still sweet.

"Is there a reason your licking an electric fence?" Callie says behind me.

As proof I'm not a maniac I run my finger along the sticky surface and then hold the yellow substance in the air level to her mouth.

She moves her mouth forward but then backs away. She swipes some fresher honey off the fence and takes that instead.

When I stare at her confused, she blushes.

"Is there something wrong with my finger?" I ask laughing.

She gets redder and uses more honey to wipe away her troubles. She smirks. "If only life was like honey."

"Sweet." I whisper lightly into the morning breeze.

~District Eleven Reapings~

Rose Everwish's P.O.V.

I tripped on my own feet several times in my heels while walking to the fields with my parents.

Before we enter the archway between the gates covered in fancy grapevines, the head peacekeeper, Hal Levita greets us in the usual way.

"One tangerine per child. No more than that." Then he hits me on the back pushing me through the arch.

So much for hospitality.

Children gathered from all around the district run around happily with a small little tangerine in their woven basket.

Mother made me a basket years ago but I never used it.

I feel the urge to make up for it now.

So when I grab my tangerine, I hand it to my mother who smiles happily and hugs me.

I've never felt this good in a while. Sadly, Charlotte can't even make me feel this thankful for a person always by my side.

XxXxXxXxXx

The town is barely a minute walk away.

I walk into my pen with all the other kids my age. I'm shoved and pushed around until I have Charlotte to help me stay straight without being knocked to the ground.

When the mayor makes it onto the stage everyone becomes completely frozen.

We all listen to the Treaty of Treason, the most awkward part of the reapings.

When our escort, Allyson Sudol, comes up onto the stage and puts her lips inches from the microphone, I shudder.

Not because she's picking kids for the reapings, but because of the way she looks.

With her ugly midnight plum skin she looks like she's half dead.

Only a capitol women could do such a ridiculous thing. And the Capitol is not at the top of my list.

But at the same time I can't help but giggle with Charlotte.

On cue, as Allyson's hand slips into the bowl, a songbird plays a melody.

I can't tell if it's just a mockingbird tweeting away, or the real deal with a mockingjay.

"Rose Everwish!"

My head swivels around and wisps of hair go flying into my face as a reaction.

Charlotte grabs my arm for a small second then lets it slide down and back to her side.

When I reach the purple chair on the stage, my eye finally catches the bird singing away.

It really is a mockingjay. I can see the way the curve of the tail feathers are.

The way it sings like an angel and has snow white feathers like a beautiful halo.

At that moment, I realize I am a soaring songbird who can't be contained.

I wear the halo above me proudly and use my wings to keep my hope up.

As the boy tribute starts to be picked, the mockingjay picks up on a song I haven't heard in a long time: "The Ripple Effect"

Mom and dad would sing in harmony to me every night using that song.

It'd put away the nightmares- so I hum along with the bird.

I do so as the boy and I shake hands.

The same as when the mayor finishes the last of the speeches.

When the cameras turn off and people start to clear from the square, the song ends.

I smile as the mockingjay takes off for flight but it resorts in a frown when a bullet pierces it through the chest.

The capitol has just killed the mockingjay.

A/N: So as you can see- this chapter was based on the fact that, even though the district is sweetened with fruit, there is a lack of sweetness to go around enjoying the people who live there.

The last sentence in this story, revolves around nothing about Katniss or her Mockingjay subject. It was all about Rose being shone down.

Finally, I'm so glad I got this chapter done. It was very stressful trying to get it finished while doing homework that's due in less then 12 hours. And it is LONGGGG...

... Well- Happy Hunger Games and May the Odds Be Ever in Your Favor!

-Fifi

P.S. Thanks for submitting all the scenarios guys! Still open to more if you'd like. I ask nothing more though. Really appreciate it all though! :D