LIST:

District One Female: (reserved)

District One Male: Mark Seashire (DeadlyHuggles)

District Two Female: Persefone Douglas (Jolteon2404)

District Two Male: (reserved)

District Three Female: (somebody that I forgot her name)

District Three Male: Tyler Kaufman (GalaxyPika)

District Four Female: Azurine (Zuri) Bahari (jul312)

District Four Male: (reserved)

District Five Female: Twyla Zahavyin (Author196)

District Five Male: Mica Mendel (jul312)

District Six Female: Harriet Wilson (murphyyy2000)

District Six Male: Cameron Bordeaux (kealimepie)

District Seven Female: (reserved)

District Seven Male: Spruce Ashmark (Muddyboots)

District Eight Female: Lace Riverworth (Muddyboots)

District Eight Male: (reserved as for now, waiting for answers)

District Nine Female: Zahava Doita (Author196)

District Nine Male: Cornell Wheaton (murphyyy2000)

District Ten Female: Dahlia Rhodes (The Wandering Phantom)

District Ten Male: Murray Keyes (Elim9)

District Eleven Female: Elisabeth Bronzebrook (DeadlyHuggles)

District Eleven Male: Amil Everret (BabyRue11)

District Twelve Female: Alice Kimminger (BloodedInk)

District Twelve Male: Jackson (Jax) Winters (AtruxDragneel)

POINTS:

Author196: 35

kealimepie: 20

AtruxDragneel: 15

GalaxyPika: 15

Muddyboots: 25 (sorry your reviews were all the same)

jul312: 30

DeadlyHuggles: 40

Bananananananana: 5

BabyRue11: 15

murphyyy2000: 30

Elim9: 10

Jolteon2404: 10

The Wandering Phantom: 10

Poodlenoodles: 5

BloodedInk: 20

Harriet Wilson (D6 Female)

I tossed my hair over my shoulder, thoughts flitting about the Reaping. A sigh. Oh well. Hopefully I wouldn't be picked. The people needed me here in Six. I tried my best to help everyone, so that I would appear likable. If I was ever chosen for the Hunger Games, I would be better off with everybody missing me and cheering me on.

"Honey!" my mom called from downstairs. I looked up from my bewildering thoughts and tried to calm down. Everything would be alright. I only had two slips in their since I was thirteen and we were able to get along okay without tesserae. I would not be chosen.

I emerged from me and my mother's small room, to the place where we ate, right in front of the door. It had two chairs on opposite sides of a square table, which mom repaired if it ever broke(she was a mechanic). The third had been my dad's, but it had been sold like every other thing he had owned.

"What's for breakfast?" I asked. "Do you need any help?"

My mother smiled at me affectionately. I mean, I loved my mom and all, but I still wanted to know all I could about dad... "No, just sit down and eat, and then we'll go to the Reaping," she replied.

I slid into the first chair, gazing down at my plate of bread and eggs. Special Reaping breakfast, like we had once every year, with the rare eggs. I finished it in record time and stood up. "Can we go now?"

Mom laughed, "Well, you're eager today," and then paused, studying my outfit. "Everything ready?"

"Yes, ready," I confirmed, but then I remembered something: "Wait, can I go down there one more time?"

"Of course, dear," was Mom's reply, and I dashed back into my room, adrenaline pulsing through my body. I snatched the little locket necklace that sat on my table, the one with dad's picture on it, and proceeded to scramble out again.

"Here!" I panted, showing her the necklace.

Mom's brow furrowed. "What for?"

"Luck," I told her.

We set out the door, my braids almost bouncing on my shoulders. I was in a slightly cheerful mood from waking up late, having no school, and even the Reaping couldn't ruin that. My doubts all fluttered away as I stepped into the bright sunshine, the perfect weather for the holiday. There were blue skies and cotton ball clouds that matched exactly myself.

There was already a small crowd out there in the Square, but not that much. We had come considerably early, and everyone wanted to stay at home as much as possible before coming. Not me, though. I was definitely an outside kind of person; I liked the nature, and animals were a must-have. I remembered Helena, my pet cat, whom I fed every day and spent as much time as I could with.

A smile dashed across my face at Helena's black-and-white splotched fur, barely noticeable in the shadows.

I met my friends there we struck up a conversation about the strays we had encountered during the month. Eva reported that her pet pigeon, whom she had named Arnold, was very sweet and playful, and we all decided to meet up at her house later today to see him.

The Reaping started rather abruptly. I hadn't even noticed that everyone had gathered in a tighter circle, because I had been at the front anyway.

The District Six escort, a man named Warren Mist, complete with silver hair and grayish-blue eyes, did his annual speech, the same as I had heard last year. He mentioned the mayor and the Six victor, who had won last year and been so injured her Victory Tour had been late.

The speech ended and the video began. I looked around and saw a twelve-year-old boy having a panic attack about the Reaping. I immediately rushed over and tried to make him feel better, saying that there was little chance he would be picked, seeing as he was so young. He sniffled and looked up at me, "Really?" I nodded yes.

As he was feeling better, I walked back over to my group of friends and hugged them, like I did every year. Just in case I got Reaped. Or one of them got Reaped.

Just then, a voice boomed out of the platform, "Harriet Wilson."

There was complete silence. Nobody was stepping out of the crowd- who was this Harriet Wilson? Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no...

Harriet Wilson was me.

Cameron Bordeaux (D6 Male)

I watched as the girl that was chosen for the Reaping, the girl who was probably the kindest person here in Six, yelled, "Daddy!" and started tearing up. I could see her blotchy face as she ran straight past the crowd and tried to escape.

It was kind of amusing, really, as the Peacekeepers cornered her and dragged the wailing, kicking tribute to the front.

"Well, Harriet," Warren said disapprovingly, looking down his nose at the sniffling thirteen-year-old. "Look who's being a bad girl this year." Wow. The first time Harriet Wilson's gotten in trouble.

Harriet's amber eyes went wide and she screamed, "Easy for you to say! Have- you ever- had your- name- in the—" She dissolved into another wave of tears.

Warren ignored her and said, "Onto the boy tributes, then." He reached into the bowl, sifting through there for the longest time until he came upon one. I wondered if he felt anything when he pulled it out, or if it was just random. Probably the latter.

My girlfriend, Caitlyn, muttered under her breath, "You won't get picked...it's your first Reaping...mine too... but I didn't..." I couldn't tell her what I was planning. She would be too horrified, she would be so angry at me.

But I knew I could do it.

"The male tribute for this year's annual Hunger Games is... Tom Kent," Warren announced swiftly. Tom Kent..oh. The little fifteen-year-old boy who was a few inches shorter than me and always wore a fake smile.

But now, he was openly gaping at the escort, not believing a single word he was saying. I sighed. How tributes always acted. Couldn't they just walk up there and get a grip on themselves for their last shred of dignity?

Slowly, Tom began stumbling forward, his eyes fixed on his shoes. I felt a little hint of pity for him, but not that much. He always tried to fit in by being extra mean to me, anyway, so if he went off to the Games, that was one bully taken away.

Then I remembered what I was going to do, and my fingers flexed in defiance. Should I do it? Of course I was gonna do it. What else would I do for the rest of my life? Live in fear of the Capitol? I had to get my District the glory it needed, even with a victory last year, and now.

I would also save a bully, but I tried not to think too much about that. Tom would be kissing my shoes when I came home victorious. I started pushing my way through the crowd, and Caitlyn followed me, asking anxiously, "Cameron, what are you doing?"

"You'll see," I answered over my shoulder. Then, with that, I shouted, "I volunteer as District Six tribute!"

Volunteers in District Six weren't common, since it wasn't a Career District, but it still happened, though only occasionally. Perhaps once every few years, and they were always for really good reasons, like protecting a sibling and that kind of thing. My reason was that I was sure I could win, and I could not wait any longer. I had been born for this.

Warren held a hand up for quiet at all the commotion erupting around. I ran up to the stage, confident aligning itself with every heartbeat. I was totally going to win.

I cast a glance back at Caitlyn and saw her hurt, betrayed face clear among all the others. I tried to tell her that I could do it, that I was going to do it, and that I would come home a champion, like Metal Jameson had done the previous year, but she just turned away.

I felt a prick of hurt but pushed it away. I would explain everything later, when we were to say out goodbyes. Then she would understand. She would be my number one fan as I won my way to the winner of the arena. I also tried not to think that I was only saying this to make myself feel better. It was true; she always agreed with me. That was why we made such a great couple, right? Because we agreed on everything?

I should've told her before, I reflected. Then she would understand. I would've made sure she didn't talk me out of it, and I would get her to feel the same confidence I was feeling.

"What is your name?" Warren asked, energized by a spark of something more interesting than just the usual reactions. Speaking of which, the reactions to me were: my parents shedding horrified tears, my bullies laughing and scorning me. Hah. I'd show them- I'd show everyone- that Cameron Bordeaux was the one who would be taking the Victory Tour this year.

I told him my name. Up close, I could see the the District Six escort really was perfect- his hair was curled and, though it was colored silver, I could see that he was still young. His eyes glinted dark blue and were set far into his face, while his mouth constantly twitched in what looked to be a taunting smile.

"Cameron, huh? Well then, Cameron, how old might you be?" Warren questioned smoothly.

I smiled back. "Twelve, sir!"

"What charming manners!" Warren exclaimed, though I wasn't even trying to be that way. "I like your enthusiasm. Tell me, did you just say twelve?"

"Yes, I did," I confirmed, stifling a roll of the eyes. What else could I have said?

"That is awfully young for a volunteer!" Warren remarked. I had a feeling he was trying to stretch this as long as possible so the cameras would focus on Six's Reaping, and cut down on the others. I grinned at the thought of that.

"I agree," I said automatically. "But I know I'm going to win!"

"I hope so too!" Warren chattered. For the first time ever, he cracked a rare smile, splitting his powdered face like the sun coming out from behind a curtain of clouds.

The cameras were snapping pictures as quickly as they could- beeps could be heard from starting and ending video clips. I beamed out at the crowd, feeling on top of the world. There was still a small sliver of doubt, but most of it was drowned out by excitement.

I was ushered over to the place where we would say our goodbyes. Another thorn prick of homesickness jabbed my heart, even though I hadn't even left yet, and I tried my best to continue my happy attitude. I just had to let the clouds fade away and relax. I was totally going to win.

The Peacekeepers, mutely surrounding me in a tight circle, led me into a large room that looked really comfy, more expensive than anything I had ever seen. It had a giant chandelier on the ceiling, covered with dozens of brightly lit candles. A huge couch covered a whole wall, complete with pillows cushioning the back and made of good-quality leather. A carpet sat in front of the couch, with little strings coming off the edges on every side. Then, on the opposite wall, there was an actual fireplace, giving heat to the room.

I plopped down onto the couch, judging the costs of my surroundings. I was definitely sure there was more expensive stuff in the Capitol, but this was already coming as a shock.

My first visitors were my mom and dad, both wiping tears off their cheeks. "Cameron, dear, why ever did you volunteer?" my mom sniffed.

I rolled my eyes, exasperated with the pessimism. "I can win, mom. Don't worry!"

She looked up doubtfully. "Try your hardest," she managed simply. I gave her a reassuring smile.

My dad cursed. "Cameron Bordeaux, have you lost your mind? What were you thinking back there, getting yourself into trouble like this? You have so much to be leaving behind! Do you think Six is too bad for you? Do you want to go to the Capitol?"

"Partially," I admitted. "But mostly, I want to win. I am not going to be leaving behind this place that is in tatters. I will win, or I will die trying."

"You sure, boy?" my father said skeptically.

"Totally sure," I said in response, my confidence sky-rocketing as I did the reassuring. They were only making me feel better about this.

My next visitor was Caitlyn, who outright sobbed into my shoulder. I kissed her cheek and said, "Come on Caitlyn, can't you spare a little hope for me that I'm gonna win? I promise you, I didn't volunteer if I thought I'd lose."

Caitlyn sniffed, wiping her nose. "I still can't believe you volunteered," she whispered.

I held her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. "I will win. I will win or I will die trying." I repeated the same words that I had told my dad.

"O-okay," she stuttered. We shared a brief last kiss and then she pressed something into the palm of my hand. I looked down at a necklace that had the letter "C" imprinted on the front.

"What's this?" I asked, even though I had a feeling I knew what it was.

"It's a token. Take it with you to go to the Games," explained Caitlyn, a slight smile coming across her face.

"I will," I promised, squeezing it my sweat-flecked hand. "What's it stand for?"

She grinned sheepishly. "Us, I suppose. It could stand for you, Cameron, or it could stand for me, Caitlyn. Maybe you can gain hope from it, thinking that I'm cheering for you back home." Her gaze grew serious. "I'll watch the screens outside as often as I can."

I hugged my girlfriend. "Please do. I'd like you to send in some sponsored gifts if I ever get stuck," I joked.

She laughed, beaming at me. "You know it's not my job. That's up to your escort." Her gaze dancing, she said, "Warren Mist."

"Strange guy, don't you think?" I remarked, referring to the escort. He had so many sudden mood changes.

"Yeah," she agreed, nodding her head. Just then, several Peacekeepers came in to escort Caitlyn out. I gave her another fleeting hug and watched as she was led away. This could be the last time I ever saw her again, I thought sadly. Then my sharper self said, NO. You'll see her again when you come back with a victory on your head.

My friends visited me as well, but their goodbyes were less glued in my head as my family and Caitlyn's. Especially Caitlyn's- I couldn't stop thinking about her words, the brief moments when we'd talked about Warren Mist, and the necklace she'd slipped into the palm of my hand.

I looked down at the necklace now, at the little "C". All those memories of me and Caitlyn flew through my mind. I squeezed it tightly, cold beads of sweat slick on my hand. I felt a strange closing up of my throat, tears building in my eyes.

And finally, I let those tears fall.

7/21/17