A/N: And we're back in business with the District 5 reapings! It took so long, but this story is not dying and there won't be another hiatus that long. I'm hoping we can post a reaping each Sunday. UPDATE: We got the rest of the reaping from GenuineHarajukuDoll. Yay!

Alana Lilith Bedfordshire, District 5 Female- GenuineHarajukuDoll

I lie carelessly on the edge of one of the many hammocks outside the courtyard of the Rehabilitation Center. It's quite breezy today and I'm wearing nearly nothing, but a simple nightgown which is hardly any coverage. Swaying my legs back and forth, with a small smirk plastered across my features, I stare up at the cerulean sky emotionlessly.

Today, I will volunteer as Tribute for my District. Yeah, I may despise them, but I need to be assured that I have protection from those damned Peacekeepers. They are always pestering me for no apparent reason. I believe it's majorly Commander Setton who absolutely loves pissing me off.

We always clash heads, whether it's over if I hit the showers yet or if I'm settled into bed by curfew, he's always fucking with me. I'm always suspected of doing something entirely wrong when from my own knowledge I know I'm not. Maybe it's because that bitch, Koh, my bunkmate snitched on me and now I can't be trusted. I should've gotten rid of her earlier, but that would've cost me another whipping or so at the Square.

Relieving myself of a sigh, I direct my stare to the cracked ground beneath my scathed feet. Dried mud from yesterday's work adorns the creases of my toes. Thoughtfully, I imagine Slade beside me on the hammock with his lopsided signature grin. I am immediately put at ease at the simple thought of him. Closing my eyes for a mere second, I finally look up and notice a Peacekeeper standing above me. He tauntingly holds a sharpened blade in one hand as the remainder of the blades are neatly ordered into the holster on his pant leg. I mockingly smile at him, much to his annoyance.

"Hey, how ya' doing?" I nonchalantly greet the man with a plain wave. Suddenly, I'm grasped by the shoulder firmly and brought upwards. Nearly tripping over my own feet, I throw a glare in the direction of a trio of Peacekeepers. One of them shoves me in the back and ushers me forward to the entrance of the isolated building.

"Get dressed!" barks Commander Setton.

I defensively hold up my hands. "My bad, my bad," I sarcastically apologize with an immature gesture of my hand, "Chief."

Setton settles his death glare on me as I enter the building with him following closely behind me, I sigh for about the umpteenth time today. "Alana, come here child! I've gotten you this blouse and skirt for the Reapings today at the market!" squeals Janine.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the ginger woman. Falsely smiling up at the her, I direct my attention towards the folded clothes resting on her forearm. Eh, they look alright. Nothing to be excited about. Just another day in the Rehabilitation Center.

After I get showered and made up all pretty for the reaping, I go to the Square with Janine beside me. She sports a plain creamy yellow dress that accentuates her figure and white flats on her feet. Resembling me, her hair is placed into an elaborate and decorative updo. "Ala! If I'm not mistaken you're volunteering, correct?"

I roll my eyes at her question. "Oh, how'd you know?" I ask, obvious sarcasm slathered in my tone.

She shrugs with a radiant smile, "Koh told me!" I immediately fix my mouth into a frown. How'd Koh find out?

I know that more than likely I'll go into the Games. Not only am I 17, poor and living on my own, but I'm also an outcast, a thief, and my family has had multiple members in it executed. I let their deaths push me to be better, though, especially my brother Slade.

I get checked into the reaping and know that the lady there knows who I am. She gives me a pointed look as I go to the seventeen-year-old section. I know the people I pass give me condescending looks. I'm all alone, family killed for illegal acts in front of the whole District... Not to mention I'm a well-known thief. I know they're waiting for a reason to kill me, but if I have to do it I want to do it on my own terms.

I would talk to friends or family, but I have none left. I guess you could say I'm a lone wolf. I stand by myself, crossing my arms and feeling overwhelmingly out-of-place. The escort, Jovian Ricci, steps up on stage and welcomes District 5 to the reaping. We watch the usual Capitol video and he retrieves a name from the reaping bowl.

"Alana Lillith Bedfordshire!" I freeze up before I start the walk to the stage, looking determined and brave. I'm not going to let them kill me and I certainly won't go down without a fight. I think of my brother and my mother as I go up the stairs. Then, Jovian picks the boy's name.

"Levi Wynde!" There's a slight pause. A boy with brown hair comes out of the 14-year-old section, looking shocked and frightened. The District claps for us and we go back into the Justice Building.

I don't get any visitors and I don't expect any. Instead I use this time to put my thoughts together. I take out the item I brought for a token as I was planning to volunteer, a bronze medallion that has the initials of my brother on it. My father gave this to him right before he died while my mother was pregnant with me. Now I have it to remember Slade and the other family members I lost. Remembering my brother makes me determined to win, to become a strong young woman and to live well.

I have to do it.

For Slade.

Levi Wynde, District 5 Male- rising-balloons

When I wake up the morning of the Reapings, as expected, I am rather uncomfortable. Not in the figurative sense, you know, being uncomfortable with the fact that two kids I might know are being chosen to fight to the death on live TV today. I mean literally. Erinn's giggling loudly (and probably sitting on my back, from the feel of it), and my locket is pressed into my cheek. Ouch. I groan.

"G'morning!" Erinn chirps, pleased that she's managed to irritate me.

"Erinn..."

She doesn't pick up on the warning note in my tone. "Mom says you have to get up now or we'll be late. Do you like my dress? I like my dress. It's pretty, see? And Mom helped me with my hair! Don't I look great?"

"I'll RUIN your hair if you don't get off!" I yell playfully, beginning to squirm under her. She squeals and hops off.

"Mom says to be down in ten minutes!" she adds before running back downstairs.

I sigh before throwing off the covers.

Sisters. Especially nine-year-old ones.

I walk into the bathroom, pulling my locket off my face. Peering into the mirror, and obvious red upside-down heart is indented on my cheek. Shoot! Of all days, why today? I mean, it isn't picture day or anything, but supposed I get reaped? I'll look like an idiot! Heck, I do look like an idiot!

Groaning again, I comb through my hair as quickly as possible. I change into my nice shirt and pants and shoes, the locket slipping underneath it all. I look okay, I guess. Still, my pale skin helps accent the stupid-looking mark on my right cheek. I can only hope it'll fade before my friends see it. Especially Mirabel.

I'm drifting off into a daydream about Mirabel when my mom shouts from the first floor, "LEVI! WE'RE LEAVING IN FIVE MINUTES!"

She's not bluffing! I hurry downstairs to shove some food in my face before taking off. Being late isn't something the Wyndes do. On the way there, I smack my cheek, hoping to cover up the obvious mark. When we get to the table, they draw some blood (why does it always hurt so darn much?) and I say my good-byes to my parents and Erinn. My parents look worried. Erinn, at this point, looks a little bored.

In the crowd, I finally find Mirabel. She greets me happily enough; "Hey, you goof! What'd you to do your face?"

I grin, knowing Mirabel's joking. "I slept on the locket," I explain. She grins back at me, and immediately, my mood is much better. I like to think of myself as a person who's generally happy. Today just wasn't my day.

Mirabel, being a girl, can wear her locket over her shirt. She fingers it now. We have the same ones. BFFs Forever, right?

Then, of course, her eyes catch sight of my finger. "Band-Aids? Really?"

"Hey, the thingy they do really hurts!" I argue, pushing her playfully. She shrugs.

"It does, I guess, but enough for a Cinderella Band-Aid?" She laughs.

I laugh with her. I really am a mess today.

We banter for a bit longer before the mayor makes his speech. Same speech as always, I guess. I kind of spaced out. Mostly about Mirabel. She looks really pretty today, with her dark brown hair and heart-shaped face and her wide blue eyes and her purple dress...

Eventually, our escort, Jovian Ricci, stepped onstage and headed to the girl's slips.

"Alana Lillith Bedforshire!"

A girl comes out of the 17-year-old section. She has wavy brown hair, tan skin, and looks strong and built. I recognize the name... A lot of District people have talked bout her with scorn.

The girl, who's old enough and who I've never met, waits on the stage for Jovian to pull the next name. I tense. I always do, even though I'm sure it won't be me. It can't be me. I'm only fourteen. The odds are impossibly low.

"Levi Wynde!"

Relief floods me. Thank God. I was psyching myself out. I'm okay.

I look at Mirabel, who's to my right. To my confusion, she looks like she's about to burst into tears. Why is that?

Shoot.

The odds weren't low enough.

In shock, I make my way up to the stage, barely able to move. The same thought pulses through my brain, seemingly taking up all the space that's in there. I can't think anything else. I'm in the Hunger Games. I'm in the Hunger Games. I'm in the Hunger Games.

Jovian declares us the tributes as the rest of the District claps, glad it wasn't someone they knew. I must be white as a sheet. Shoot, that probably lets my upside-down heart mark show more. I look like an idiot, probably. Especially with the Band-Aid.

When I'm in the room to say goodbyes, my parents and Erinn are the first ones in. My mom is crying. My dad is extremely stoic. Erinn is upset and throwing a bit of a tantrum.

After them is Mirabel, who's also crying. We talk for a while, but nothing really takes away our worries like usual, which chills me. We've always been able to cheer each other up. When Mirabel's mother had her first, then second miscarriage. When Erinn was deathly ill with pneunomia. Nothing has stopped us.

After Mirabel is no one important, really. When the last well-wisher is out of the way, I finally take out my locket, staring at the pictures of Mirabel and me laughing and being idiots.

I wish so badly that we're walking home together right now being those idiots again. Nothing's more entertaining.

Not even, despite their purpose, the Hunger Games.