Sorry I haven't updated in a few days. I was on vacation. On Christmas I was so excited; I got a framed picture of Solangelo for my room. It was the greatest thing ever. Anyways, the reaping of district 11...

District 11

"Calypso Ogygia!"

Calypso walked up to the stage. She knew she would be picked, and she had finally come to a place in her mind where she could accept it. She had known going into it that she should not have done it. A few months ago, Calypso had helped her dad in starting a rebellion against the Capital with the help of some people from district 5. She should not have done it, her sisters warned her, but she had thought that it was for a good cause. She was not caught in the act like her father was; if you were caught in the act, you were dead, just like her dad. The Capital had found some evidence that made them believe she had been a part of the rebellion, but they did not have enough to put her to death. So, they did there only other way of punishing people between the ages of 12 and 17. The Hunger Games.

Calypso could hear the people in the crowd whispering,

"Isn't that the rebel girl?"

"Duh, don't you remember the peacekeepers trying to torture her for information?"

Calypso knew that the Gamemakers where never letting her survive. She whispered under her breath,

"I'll see you soon, Dad."

Grover Underwood looked way too old for the hunger games. In fact, he looked like he was at least 25, if not older. He was a tall boy with a goatee; maybe it was the facial hair that made him look so old, maybe it was his height. District 11 was the agriculture district, and Grover was one of the people that picked the plants once they were done growing. That had been his job since forever, and his arms showed it. He looked like he could throw a 200-pound man across the room like it was nothing. He seemed like the king of person you would find in district 2, or any career district really.

He walked up to the stage with a completely neutral expression, but that is not how he felt about this whole situation. Grover looked strong enough, but he had never held a weapon in his life; he knew he probably wouldn't outlast 23 other tributes, and Grover didn't want to be a murderer anyways.

"Hello!" the escort said with a huge smile. "How old are you, Grover?"

"16," he answered

"You look so much older," the escort commented.

Grover had heard so many people say that, but he still wasn't sure what to say in response.

"Yeah," he said, rolling his eyes at himself, knowing how stupid he sounded.

Grover always has been too awkward to know what to say in any situation, ever. The Capital never liked people that were quiet. He would never get sponsors, and the Gamemakers never allow tributes to just hide in a tree the whole time, they always send something after them.

Grover knew the odds were not in his favor, and he would just have to learn to live with that.

Thank you all for reading! See you for the reaping of district 12...