Caesar Augustus, 18, District 2

Blood races through my veins as the silly capitol woman with her bouffant, neon green hair (which lacked as much subtlety as she did personality) claws at the scraps of paper. The girls are reaped first, of course- the scrawny thing chosen is quickly replaced by two volunteers. The girl who eventually gets chosen only gets to the by tripping up the other. I almost laugh at her juvenile behaviour, but I know I am above such common humour.

I know I can- I will rule the district, one day. My father tells my so. My natural authority comes from my clear Roman heritage- my long nose, my blonde hair and my tall stature all come out of ancient Italy. Even my name- Caesar Augustus- is the name of a ruler of Rome. Some people deny the beautiful Latin pronunciation of my name, and pronounce it seize-her. Kai-sar. That is how you pronounce my name.

I turn my coin around in my palm. It is a gold coin from my ancestors in ancient Rome. The edges are worn thin, and it bears the face of a Roman emperor with laurel leaves circling his hair. It has been handed down through the generations, and it will follow my journey in the arena- the journey that will make me known and will begin my path towards conquering the district.

My attention snaps back to the reapings as the capitol woman totters over to the boy's bowl. How on earth can she stand up in those heels? She sticks her colourful talons into the bowl, her arm twisting in absurd angles. "Atlas Evans?" she squawks in her capitol accent, raising her head and skimming the crowd; her fuzzy green hair trails languidly behind like smoke off a match. I was going to push to the front, but the other boys have already cleared a path for me. "I volunteer as tribute," I call, and stride up to the stage confidently. I don't even yell. The sheer force in my voice silences the few feeble voices who get as far as "I-".

The juvenile girl rolls her eyes as I climb the steps. I know that look too well. It says, "Oh look, it's the power hungry freak from the north side of the district." I know this because some bad-mannered people say it aloud. As I approach the microphone, I look down at her. Although she isn't exactly small, I clear her height by nearly a foot. She shivers and breaks her gaze.

The capitol woman claps her manicured paws together with glee. "Excellent, two volunteers! What's your name, Honey?"

I give her a look to tell her how patronising she is. "Caesar Augustus," I say.

"Bless you," says her juvenile girl, smirking. "Do you want a cough drop?" The crowd snickers. Fury rises up in me, but I quash it.

"Kai-sar," I say loudly and deliberately, tapping her forehead with my finger for each syllable. She flinches. "Or can your pea of a brain not even understand that?"

"Alright, break it up," drawls the escort woman as the crowd laughs loudly, though she looks rather excited. A peace-keeper pulls the girl away and, though I can't see, I can feel a peace-keeper pinning my arm back too. "Introducing the tributes for this year's annual hunger games!"

The crowd roars and cheers. "Tributes, shake hands." The peace-keeper still grips my shoulder as I shake her hand and, with a feeling of satisfaction, watch a shiver go down her spine.

I wave to people and cameras alike as I am escorted to the justice building by the peacekeeper who still hasn't let go of my shoulder.

Hope Russell, 14, District 3

"Oh my god. Hope!" my friend Hannah screeches, throwing herself onto me and trapping my arms to my side in a hug so hard I begin to suffocate.

"Uh- Hannah?" I croak. "Can't… breathe…."

"Oh, sorry," she says hurriedly, throwing herself onto the table so hard she immediately leaps back up again in pain. "Ow!"

Grabbing her by the shoulders, I begin to shake her. "Hannah!" I bellow. "Calm down and sit on the bloody sofa!" She sways a little when I let her go, eyes closed, but then shakes her head like a wet dog.

"Right. Sorry," she apologises, slowly lowering herself down onto the velvet sofa. "Oh, Hope! Are you scared?"

"No," I say sarcastically. "I am absolutely not terrified that there is a train waiting at the station to take me to my impending doom."

"Oh, Hope. I know you can survive this. You're strong, and charming, and all the boys like you."

"Do not!"

"Do too. I've seen the way boys look at you at school, and even you can tell that the baker's son- what's his name? Oh yeah- James Pacer has a crush on you."

"Yeah, well that's just weird. Did you know that he waited outside my house with binoculars once?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I caught him on the way home from work."

"Ha! Anyway, he gave me this for you," giggles Hannah, producing a brown paper bag from her pocket. The sugary smell hits my nostrils.

"Ah- doughnuts!" I cry. Doughnuts are a special treat for birthdays only.

"Your favourite! Wonder how he knew. Probably watched through the window as you wrote you diary; 'Dear Diary, doughnuts, doughnuts, doughnuts.'"

"I do not have a diary!" Hannah smirks. I should really stop spending so much time with her. She knows me too well. My heart sinks as I realise that I won't see her again. "Even if I did it would be more interesting than that."

"Right. You know, in a way I'm jealous of you."

"What?"

"No, no just a little. I mean, you're going to the capitol. Hot water will be available at the press of a button. Food to feed a district, laid on a table set for one. Plus, you get to share it all with Jules Lovelace," she sighs.

"Ew! No! He's like, two years older than me."

"But the name! It's like fate!"

"The games are not about romance. I'll take the twins over a boy any day… oh no, but how will I look after the twins? And Dad? Hannah, since Dad got ill, I'm the only one earning. Please say that you'll look after the twins for me, and keep an eye on Dad."

"Of course I will! Have you seen my house? Nobody is going to notice two four year olds." Hannah's house is packed with cousins, aunts and grandparents. I say house- it's more like a large warehouse near the factory.

The Peace-keeper knocks on the door. "You have thirty seconds."

"Aren't the twins coming to say goodbye?"

"No, they don't even know. I left them at home with our old next door neighbour." Hannah nods, tears shining in her eyes. "Please- please don't explain to them where I've gone. Or Dad. Tell him I've gone away with work." She nods again though I can barely see from the tears shining in my own eyes.

"Time's up," says the Peace=keeper, opening the door.

"Hannah?" I sob as she leaves. "Tell them Hopey is coming home.

"I will."

I wait on the sofa for more visitors, but as I expected, no-one arrives.