Like how a single word

Can make a heart open

I might only have one match

But I can make an explosion

Zahra "Justice" Denmore, 17

District Three female

They say that in everyone's life, there is one defining moment where everything begins to fall into place and make sense. In this moment, you realize who you are and who you want to be, and then you just go from there. For me, I have never had a problem with knowing who I am as a person. It's knowing what to do with it, that I have a problem with.

"Earth to Zahra," my brother Thackery says, playfully pulling me off of the sofa and putting me into a headlock.

"Not again, you idiot!" I say squirming under his tight grip.

"What are you going to do about it, you're just a girl!" he says, mocking me.

Growing up with brothers has given me tough skin. When i was younger, I would scream and cry when I got even the slightest of cuts or skinned my knee. I can remember running to my mom and having her blow gently on the wound before placing a gentle kiss directly on it. There is something about the way mom's can make everything better when you are two years old that seems almost magical. As I got older, my brothers started to play more rough and most of the times, I was stuck in the crossfire. I had no choice but to learn and protect myself.

"Watch it, Thack!" I squeal from under his grip. I grab a hold of his wrist and bend it backwards before kneeing him in the stomach and sending him flying to the maroon colored rug. I push him forwards so that he is lying face down in the center of the living room, jump on him and cross his arms behind his back.

"Ow, stop Justice! Get off of me," his muffled pleas arise from the fluffy carpet.

"What was that? I'm hurting you? My bad, I wasn't aware that I could cause you pain, since I'm just a girl," I say, pushing his head into the ground one last time before having mercy and getting up.

He called me Justice. Nobody has called me that in years, and to be quite frank, I don't miss it. The memories that come along with that nickname are some that I have tried to suppress for my whole entire life. I have done a pretty good job with it for the most part, most of my young childhood years are just a blur now, due to the fact that I have spent most of my life pretending like they never even happened. They say that you don't really remember anything when you are only five years old, but I beg to differ. No matter how hard I tried to forget, some memories are so burned into my brain that they consume my thoughts on a daily basis.

My mother was the most kind hearted and loving person that I have ever known. She was soft-spoken and gentle and I remember looking up at her from my little pink child sized bed and thinking she was the most beautiful person ever. There was almost something about her that seemed magical. I fully believed that my mother was some sort of fairytale queen.

She would take me into her arms and we would go on make believe adventures through the house. Her being the strong and mighty queen, and me being the meek and vulnerable princess. Sometimes, my dad, or the evil prince would get a hold of me and run with me down the dark and twisty forest, or otherwise known as the dark hallway. My mom would always come find me and rescue me, I can't think of one time where she wasn't my hero in our little make believe life.

Just like in most fairy tales, the little kingdom that my family had created for me, came tumbling down. The only difference was, there was no villain or bad guy to be slain with a sword or fought with. This villain lived inside of my mother. Day by day, she started getting more and more sick. The light on her face soon turned to dark purple bags under her eyes, and the smile that she once wore all the time slowly started to fade. At five years old, a princess needs her queen and I sure as hell wasn't ready to live without mine.

I remember the last day that that I had with my mom like it happened this morning. My dad came into my room and told me that it was time to say goodbye. I clung onto the pink poles of my bed and hid my head under a pillow. I guess I thought that if I didn't acknowledge what was going on, that it would just go away. My dad finally pulled me out of my bed and lead me into my mother's room where she was on bed rest. The slow hum of the machines and that one loud beep that would occur every few minutes are sounds that I wish I could forget, but are unfortunately etched into my memory forever.

"Zahra, come here," my mother whispered, trying to sit up straight in her bed.

"What is it momma?" I remember asking her.

"Like in our story time, there are always going to be bad people in the world. People that are going to want to hurt you and take you away. You have to promise me that you will fight like the princess that I know you can be," she said with tears starting to slowly roll down her cheeks.

"I promise, momma," I said, looking at anything but her.

"The world is scary and corrupted, they need a change They need justice. That is where you are going to come into play. You are my little Justice," she said with a faint smile.

That was the last memory that I had with my mother. After she died, my dad and my older brother Thackery called me Justice for awhile, but eventually it wore off. My dad and Thackery have never been anything but supportive of me. My other brother, Zorro, isn't really around much. I know that they say everyone copes with things differently, but I have no respect for people who turn their backs on people, especially in times of need. I guess you could say that because of this, I have developed some sort of trust issues.

You see, I would do anything for someone that I cared about. My dad says that it will be my fault one day. I never understood how you could just turn your back on someone that you once cared about so easily. I am very wary around people who I do not know well because of this.

I know for a fact that my dad and Thackery will always have my back. I am extremely lucky when it comes to family. If growing up in a house of boys has taught me one thing, it is that I can hold my own. I have been put in countless headlocks and been punched, pushed and wrestled, way too many times to count. No matter how many times that they tackled me down though, I pushed back harder and usually came out on top.

I take that with me wherever I go in life. Like my mom said when I was a little girl, life is a scary place. There are always going to be people who want to drag me down and tear me apart. However, I am the justice of my own life. I refuse to be caged in.

But you gotta make your own kind of music

Sing your own special song

Make your own kind of music

Even if nobody else sings along

Sylvester Morse, 15

District Three male

There is something so inviting about the quiet. It draws you in deeper and deeper and before you know it, you are enveloped in a tunnel of your own thoughts. To some people, that sounds boring or even terrifying. However, it is my favorite place to be. People are often scared of being alone, for the fear that they might actually have to be in tune with their own thoughts and feelings, but for me it is the only place that I feel like I truly belong.

"Hey Sylvester," A woman on the corner says smiling as I'm walking home from the store.

"Uh… h- hi…" I stammer, regretting speaking almost instantly.

"Did you have a nice day?" She asks, still smiling.

"Yes mam," Is all I manage to get out, before I look at her and smile.

"Always so polite, she says looking pleased.

I don't like people, and I don't mean that in a bad way. I just mean that if given the choice to spend the night in a room full of people or by myself, I would choose to be alone in a heartbeat. People who don't really know me well, often overlook my awkwardness because I am very polite. My logic is that if I am polite enough, people will think I am a normal and nice kid, but they will also leave me alone.

The walk home from getting food is filled with dodging eye contact to avoid conversations with people and fast paced steps to get me into the privacy of my bedroom as soon as possible. When I get there, I toss my backpack onto the dark brown carpet in my bedroom and jump onto my bed. With arms crossed behind my head and my shoes kicked off, I can finally start to relax. I manage to drift off for what seems like a long time, but in reality is just a half an hour. The beeps coming from my alarm clock are dream shattering but I promised my Aunt Lydia that I would work in her shop today. Anything to get me out of the house.

Don't get me wrong, I am very lucky to have the family that I do, but they can all be a bit suffocating sometimes. Growing up, my family was always together. My parents constantly wanted us to spend time together and go do all of these things, but that just isn't my personality. From the time that I was a small boy, I have preferred spending time alone. I guess you could say that I am a bit of a recluse. Anyway, my Aunt Lydia offered me an opportunity to come help her at her tailor shop at a young age. She was grateful for the help and I was grateful for the opportunity to get away, if only for a few hours at a time.

For the second time today, my walk to help my aunt is spent looking down. When I arrive, Aunt Lydia is in the back making a dress out of a pattern that I designed. I smile, watching her put the sheer pieces of paper up against the dark red fabric.

"Hey Sylvester!" She says, looking up briefly and smiling at me. "How have you been?" she asks, removing a yellow pin from in between her teeth.

"Oh, just the same," I tell her, walking over to the pattern that I left off on yesterday.

"Are the kids at school still giving you a hard time?" she asks, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Of course they are, I don't think they would know what to do with themselves if they weren't picking on me," I tell her.

"Well, that's a shame. Some people will just never recognize talent, my boy." she says, rising from her chair and heading to a sewing machine.

When I started working here when I was younger, I didn't expect to catch on as quickly as I did. Not only did I find that sewing and making patterns was easier than I thought, I found that it was something that I really enjoyed. I was good at it and day by day, design slowly started becoming my passion. Most of the designs that my aunt uses now, are the ones that I have created. Designing and sewing became my own little escape and I found myself looking forward to the days that I got to come work in the shop.

However, when word got out at school, the other kids had a hay day. Sewing isn't considered the most masculine activity so you can imagine the insults that were flung my way. I guess you could say that I am sensitive, I always have been. As much as I tried not to let the insults get to me, the blows were devastating. Going to a place where people live to hurt you every single day was a daunting task and for a little while I continued to try, but eventually I stopped caring. My teachers tried to help me but it didn't work. My grades slipped drastically and pretty soon I just cut off interaction with everyone.

A few weeks ago, I dropped out of school and came to work here with my aunt full time. I can't say that my parents were ecstatic about it, but they knew about the bullying and felt bad sending me back. So here we are.

"I guess so, I wouldn't call it talent though," I say, trying to be humble.

"You are a strange boy, if you don't see that you have talent, you must be blind," she says walking up behind me and ruffling my hair.

"Whatever, Aunt Lydia," I chuckle.

The boy who usually comes in to deliver the clothes to the people who asked for them walks in and our eyes meet for a brief moment. I look down.

Lately, I have been confused. Well, not confused exactly, but I have noticed that I have been finding both girls and boys attractive. I have always known that something was different, but lately it has been making more sense in my head. I would never ever tell anyone though. I don't need the other teenagers in District Three to have one more reason to pick on me. It's going to be something that I need to figure out on my own and when I am ready, I will tell my closest confidant, Aunt Lydia. The boy walks out of the shop, hands full with dress bags and I feel like I can finally breathe again.

When I am closing up the shop, I take a look around at everything that makes me so happy. I might not like people, and I might be a shy and awkward person. People might not like me and they might make that very well known, but I know who I am and I wouldn't change it.

I flip the light switch down and head home.

My power's turned on

Starting right now I'll be strong

I'll play my fight song

And I don't really care if nobody else believes

'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me

Zahra "Justice" Denmore,17

District Three Female

"Can you please pass the potatoes?" I ask extending my arm out.

"Sure, Princess," my dad smiles and hands me the blue glass bowl full of fluffy goodness. I scoop a heaping pile onto my plate before passing the bowl to Thackery. I like that my dad still calls my princess, it reminds me of when things were better and easier.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Thackery asks me, avoiding eye contact and moving around the veggies on his plate.

"Not really, but there is nothing we can do about it, right?" I smile, trying to ease the tension.

"I guess so, but I wish there was. The Hunger Games isn't some fairy tale, Zahra." Thackery says, looking annoyed.

"Trust me, I know that. I am not five anymore," I shoot back.

"Now, Kids. Stop that. Zahra is a strong girl, just like her mom was. Nothing is going to happen to her, however, if it does, I have no doubt in my mind that she will come home to us in one piece," My dad says pushing his plate away and rising from the dinner table.

I stick my tongue out at my brother playfully before getting up to my help my dad clear the dishes.

My other brother hasn't been around in days, and to be quite frank, it royally pisses me off. While it does take quite a lot to make me mad, when you achieve that, my fuse is pretty short. I open the door to his room, hoping to find him in there, but he isn't. I feel myself getting angry and slam his door shut, making the frames of my mother on the wall shake.

You can't just turn your back on people, that isn't how life works. I don't want to not trust people, but with everything that has happened in my life, It just comes naturally. Both of us have a chance at getting reaped today, I just wanted the chance to make sure he was feeling okay about all of this, but if he is never around, I won't feel bad about it. I have to worry about myself.

I put on a nice white blouse and a floral print skirt and put my blonde hair into a bun on the top of my head. I twirl causing my skirt to spin, before exiting the room.

I kiss the framed picture of my momma on the wall and spend some time wrapped up in a big bear hug from my dad before heading to the reapings. I can't help but picture everything that could happen, my castle could be minutes away from crumbling.

Nobody can tell you

There's only one song worth singing

They may try and sell ya

Cause it hangs them up

To see someone like you

Sylvester Morse, 15

District Three male

"You look great, Syl," my sister says from across the room. I smile at her quickly and then straighten my bow tie. "You have nothing to worry about," she says in a really soft voice.

"Don't use your teacher voice with me please," I grumble.

My sister Felicia is following my in my mom's footsteps and on her way to be a school teacher, which is why I have always thought my mother favored her. She says it isn't true, but I can tell. My mom is a very nice and gentle woman, but I can't help but feel like the only time that she has ever shown concern for me was when I dropped out of school. She kind of freaked.

"Are you going to stay for lunch, Sylvester?" My mom shouts from the kitchen. I hear pots and pans banging and my brother laughing.

"Uh, no, sorry mom! I have to go meet up with Aunt Lydia, she has something for me!" I shout back. I fix my clothes in the mirror one final time before rushing to meet my aunt.

She is sitting on a bench in the park when I finally meet up with her.

"There you are, I know you have to get going pretty quickly, but I just wanted to give you something," she smiles and reaches in her purse.

"You don't have to do this, I'll see you at the shop tomorrow," I assure her.

" Just to be sure," She winks. She pulls out a golden thimble from her bag and hands it to me. "For you," she smiles.

"This is your favorite thimble, I can't take this," I say starting to feel myself getting awkward. Sentiment makes me uncomfortable. She wraps me up in a big hug and then sends me on my way.

At the reapings, it is hard to move. There are so many young people in this area that I can feel my throat start closing. I don't like crowds and this is making me extremely nervous. Luckily, the escort doesn't waste any time.

"Well hello there, My name is Dandy. Let's get started," she says walking over the bowl full of female names.

"Zahra Denmore!" A blonde girl looks shocked. She straightens her face immediately and confidently walks up to the stage. She doesn't look scared at all but maybe she is just really good at hiding it.

"Zahra, do you have anything to say?" Dandy asks her.

"Nope, thanks though," she smiles and steps back, scanning the audience for a face.

"And with that, your male tribute for the games is…"

"Sylvester Morse!" She says with wide eyes.

I can't move, my body starts shaking like a leaf. I don't want to go. Somehow though, my legs start moving. I take shaky steps all the way to the stage, trying my hardest to keep the tears that are about to spill out, in. I remember that I have to shake Zahra's hand and focusing on that helps me get through the seemingly endless short walk to the stage.

"Do you have anything to say?" she shoves the microphone in my face.

I shake my head and join my district partner.

The roar of the audience clapping is the last thing I hear before the big doors close.

Hey loves! :)

How are y'all?

So here are the District Three reapings. I hope you enjoyed them as much as I did. Thank you to Elim9 and x-Queen-Of-Applesx for the submissions. They are great.

SIDE NOTE: Caleb is leaving the country in the morning, if you are reading this send him a nice message wishing him safe travels and bon voyage :P I expect my besties inbox to be flooded with well wishes. Put potato at the end of your PM so he knows where you came from. IVolunteerAsAuthor. Ready set go!

What did y'all think?

Predictions?

Also, expect more regular updates from here on out.

Love youuu.

XOXO

Jenna