Glint Sulf (D1 M 18)

Once all of the trays have been closed, the Head Gamemaker's name blasts over the loudspeaker. "The private training sessions will begin momentarily. You will have fifteen minutes to present your chosen skill or skills to the panel of Gamemakers. We will start with the District One male, and end with the District Twelve female. Good luck, and may the odds be in your favor."

It's almost five minutes before I'm called in. Finally; it took them long enough. I step into the room, and head for the spear rack. Spears are my best weapon, so I plan to spend my whole session showing the Gamemakers how well I throw spears. I grab five of the spears, and walk over to the target area. I stand behind the line, and throw the five spears at the target. They all hit the bullseye. I retrieve my spears, and throw them again. This time, only four spears hit the bullseye. It's all the Head Gamemaker's fault. He coughed really loud when I released the spear. I end up throwing fifteen more spears. Fourteen of them hit the bullseye. The Head Gamemaker stands up. "You are dismissed," he says. I can't wait until I get a really high score.

Hours later, I sit on the couch with Alexandrite, our mentors, our stylists, and our escort, waiting for the scores to be announced. Alexandrite looks really anxious. It stinks to be her. I'm not anxious because I know I'm going to get a good score. At last, the television flicks to life. Tristan Honeybee welcomes all of the viewers, and explains the scoring system. Only someone stupid wouldn't know the scoring system. Everyone watches the Hunger Games every year. At last, I see my face appear on the screen. "Up first, we have Glint Sulf of District One," Tristan says, "with a score of nine."

"Nine?!" I scream at the TV. "Nine?!" I grab the closet thing to me, a diamond-encrusted lamp, and smash it to the ground.

Alexandrite Dazzle (D1 F 17)

I sit outside of the training center, my palms sweating. I'm really nervous about my session. If I get too high of a score, I'll be labeled as a target. If I get too low of a score, I'll be ousted out of the career clan. Finally, my name is called. I stand up from my seat, and walk in.

I grab a bow and a dozen arrows off of a rack. They're my best weapon, so I'll be able to pinpoint exactly where I want my arrow to go. I'm going to aim for an accuracy of 80%. I step up to the target, and take my first dozen shots. I make sure ten hit the bullseye, and two don't. It takes a while to retrieve all of my arrows, so I only have time for one more round. This time, I only allow nine to hit the bullseye. That adds up to nearly an average of 80%. Once I've finished gathering up my arrows, I'm dismissed.

Glint smashes the lamp on the ground. What is his problem? A nine is an okay score. It's nothing worth smashing a lamp over. After Glint's score is announced, my face appears. Over Glint's screams, I can just make out, "Alexandrite Dazzle with a score of eight." I close my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief. An eight is perfect.

Mason Riley (D2 M 18)

I plan to get a better score than both Glint and Alexandrite. From what it sounded like, all Glint planned to do was throw spears around, and all Alexandrite planned to do was archery; not that she's exceptionally good at it. I plan to do two things: both sword fighting and spear throwing. My original plan was just to throw spears, but that would be too similar to what Glint did. We're about equal ability with spear throwing, and I don't want to get the same score as him. If I add in some sword fighting, I'll certainly get a higher score.

"Mason Riley, please report to the training center now for your private training session."

I walk in, and decide to go for sword fighting first. I walk over to that section, where an expensive-looking dummy is set up. From what my mentor told me, I can set this dummy to a level of difficulty from one to fifteen, and then it will fight me. He suggested I set it to level eleven or twelve, since the higher levels are extremely hard. I set it to level thirteen, and hit start.

Just over five minutes later, I have successfully made the dummy retreat to the ground. The Gamemakers should be impressed, because my only injury is a small scratch on my arm. I then proceed to the spear-throwing station. I grab five spears, and chuck them all up at the target. My second spear is the only one that misses. Looking back up at the clock, I see I have four minutes left. That's just enough time to collect my spears and throw another round. I retrieve them and stand back behind the line. This time, all of my spears hit the bullseye. I smile, and the Gamemakers dismiss me.

I'm not really surprised at how Alexandrite and Glint scored. Alexandrite's score is a fairly low career score, but it's still a good one. Glint's score is a pretty average one, which is what I expected. Hopefully, my score is higher than both of them. "From District Two; Mason Riley, with a score of ten."

"Yes!" I pump my fist into the air. A ten is a great score. It's not an eleven, but I think it'll be the highest score.

Jessie Hart (D2 F 14)

I sit in the chair, waiting to be called in. I know exactly what I'm going to do when I get in there, but I'm still nervous. If I mess up, this'll cost me my spot in the career alliance. "Jessie Hart, please report to the training center now for your private training session." I stand up, and walk through the door.

I jog over to the rack of throwing knives, and grab ten. I throw them all at their own targets. One after one, they all hit the bullseye. Next, I grab a dummy, and stand it up in the middle of the training center; right in front of the judges. Grabbing another throwing knife, I stand back, and impale the dummy in the head. Next, I head for the rack of whips, grab one, and jog back into the center of the room. I begin to whip the dummy, until the knife in its head clatters to the ground. I don't stop there. I continue to whip the dummy until it's just a pile of fabric on the floor.

Time for the grand finale. I run over to the rack of throwing knives, and wheel the entire thing over to one of the room's plain walls. I throw knives, rapid fire, at the wall. My mind maps out exactly where each knife should fall. When I'm done, I turn around to look at the Gamemakers, and see looks of bewilderment on all of their faces. I nearly skip out of the room when they dismiss me.

My knives have spelled out "Thank you," on the wall.

I sit on the couch, extremely nervous. I'm pretty sure I got a good score, but I've been doubting myself over the last few hours. I don't know if my letters were straight enough, or if the knives in the targets were all perfect bullseyes. At last, my face appears on the television. "Jessie Hart, with a score of eleven."

I got an eleven? That's awesome! I jump off of the couch and pump my fist in the air. So does my stylist. I think Enobaria would have joined in too, but she's a little too old to be jumping up and down. She just smiles at me. However, the best face award belongs to Mason. His jaw drops extremely low, and his eyes bulge out of their sockets. I wish I had a camera.

Jarvis Scholl (D3 M 18)

I sit in my chair, waiting for my turn to show the Gamemakers what I can do; not that it's a lot. I have decided to make some traps and scale the climbing wall during my session. It won't be a very exciting performance, but I may be able to scrape a four or a five. It won't be the worst score, but it certainly won't be the best.

Finally, my name is called, and I walk into the training center. I first head for the climbing wall, since that's what'll take more time. I harness myself up and begin to climb. Hand over hand I continue to make it higher up the wall. "Push it," I tell myself. "Push it."

I reach the top half a minute faster than I ever have. I smile, and jump down from the wall. Once I unharness myself, I grab a pile of rope and other knick-knacks. I sit down in the center of the room, still breathing heavily, and begin to create my trap. Knot after knot, I eventually create an intricate trap. I place it in the center of the room, and walk over to the pile of dummies. I realize I need something to put the dummy on so that I can roll it into the trap. I spot a small food cart by the door, and tie the dummy to it. I push the cart into the trap, and the dummy is ripped off of the cart, and pulled up by the ankle. I look up at the Gamemakers. "You can go," one of them says.

All of the scores, so far, have been at least seven. That's typical, since both Districts One and Two are career districts, but I still hate being the one to break the chain. I'm especially surprised with the fourteen-year-old girl's score. She really does know her stuff. Finally, my face appears on the screen. "From District Three, Jarvis Scholl with a score of five." Well, that's about what I expected.

Jenette Parke (D3 F 12)

"Jenette Parke, please report to the training center now for your private training session." I walk in, scared out of my mind. I don't know what I should do. I have absolutely no skills. The only thing I was sort of good at was identifying edible berries. I guess I'll have to take the berry quiz for my session.

I walk over to where the quiz is, and begin filling out answers. I recognize most of the berries I'm shown, but have to guess on a few as well. I make sure to take my time and use up the full fifteen minutes since this is the only thing I plan to do. At last, I fill out the last question, and my score appears on the screen. "Congratulations," a robotic female voice says. "You have obtained a score of seventy-eight percent." Well, that's about what I expected. The Gamemakers dismiss me, and I walk out.

Jarvis got a pretty good score of five. Well, it's a good score for a non-career. I know that my score won't be close to a five. "Jenette Parke with a score of three." I was right. I guess sorting berries isn't too exciting.

Sheldon Thomson (D4 M 18)

I sit next to Marina, waiting to be called in. What is taking so long? That little girl certainly can't be doing anything so impressive that it takes them this long to clean up. At last, my name is announced over the loudspeaker, and I walk in. I head for the spear station, and begin my performance.

Since spears are my best weapon, I plan to just throw them for fifteen minutes. I throw half a dozen. Five of them hit the bullseye. I retrieve them, and throw again. All the spears hit the target this time. During the third round, six more hit the target. The Gamemakers look like they're starting to get bored, so I decide to spruce up my performance a little bit. I grab a dummy, and run it over to the ropes course. I tie it to one of the low-hanging ropes, and then step up onto one of the platforms. I throw my spear, and it flies right through where the dummy's heart would be if it had one. I look up at the Gamemakers. "You are dismissed," one says.

Hours later, I sit on my couch waiting for my score. I'm really nervous to receive it. I just hope I did well enough to get at least a nine. At last, my face appears on the screen. "From District Four, Sheldon Thomson with a score of ten." Sweet; a ten! That's a great score. It's not what Jessie got (which was very surprising, by the way) but it's still a good score.

Marina Ebony (D4 F 18)

At last, my name is called. I walk into the training center, almost shaking. I need to get a good score, or the careers may kick me out of their alliance. Since I don't have as much training as the other careers, it will be a lot harder for me to get a good score. I've been working really hard during training, so I think my archery score may keep my spot in the career pack.

I walk over to the rack of archery supplies, and pick up a bow and a sheath of a dozen arrows. I head over to the target area, and shoot all dozen arrows. Nine of them hit the bullsye. I'm a bit disappointed, but that was my first round of arrows, so haven't really warmed up yet. During my next round, though, I only make nine out of twelve again. I take a deep breath. I need to do better if I want to get a good score. During my third round, I do a little better. Ten of my arrows hit the target. I look up at the clock, and see that I have just enough time for one more round. Unfortunately, once again, only nine of my arrows hit the bullseye. Well, hopefully the Gamemakers think I did well enough to at least scrape an eight.

Sheldon just got a ten. There's no way I'll get anything close to a ten. I'm so nervous. Finally, Sheldon's face disappears, and is replaced by mine. "Marina Ebony, with a score of..." I cross my fingers... "seven." My eyes open wide. A seven isn't considered a career score. I look over at Sheldon. The look of pity on his face tells me I'm in trouble.

Hi guys! I'm back! Sorry, but I've been really really busy this past week, and had absolutely no time to write over the weekend, which is when I do most of my writing. Thanks for being so patient! As you probably noticed, I've decided to split the sessions into three parts so that I could get this chapter posted before next year starts. :-P I hope you enjoyed! :-)