District 11 female – May Vickford, 15

I yawned and struggled to keep my eyes open, however, it was well past midnight and I was working.

I loved my job. I really did. But it was hard to have to stay up every night to do it, then be up all day at school.

But it was my thing, and I was good at it. I believed that everyone had their thing, and they should stick to it. Even if that meant I barely got any sleep due to having to guard crops for the Peacekeepers at night.

I looked around at the rest of the patrol team, and half of them were asleep. I sighed at the sight of this. Why could they not just own who they were like I did? They shouldn't be paid the same as me if I was keeping my head high and eyes out for anyone who could possibly sabotage the crops, where they just slept on the job.

Whatever. One day they'd be caught by the Peacekeepers and fired. So I didn't need to worry about them. I squinted my eyes and looked as far into the distance as I could.

And I saw a figure.

I gasped. No one other than the patrol group and a few peacekeepers had ever come to these crops at night before. Could this be an intruder? If it was, stopping them could be my chance to prove myself. All the hard work I'd put into this job would finally pay off.

I grabbed my torch that was sitting on the grass beside me and pointed it at the figure. I couldn't make out the facial features from the distance I was away from them, however, I could tell that it was a middle-aged man.

I tried to shake off the feeling of unease that washed over me as I stared into the darkness. My eyes were fixated on the silhouette of a man in the distance. Who was he? And what did he want? I strained my eyes to get a better look, but the darkness shrouded him in mystery.

I glanced over at the rest of my group, and my stomach sank as I saw that they were all still asleep. How could they be so careless? I didn't think that they were going to be of any use if that man turned out to be a threat.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Should I wake them up? Or should I handle this on my own? My heart raced as I realised that I was the only one who could do something about it.

I gripped my torch tightly and slowly made my way toward the man. My palms were sweaty, and my heart was pounding, but I knew I had to be brave. I needed to protect the crops.

As I got closer, I realize that the man was holding a large bag. Was he there to steal the crops? I narrowed my eyes and shone my flashlight directly onto his face. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" I demanded.

The man was startled, and I saw fear in his eyes. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you," he stammered. "I was just passing through, and I needed to rest for a bit. I wasn't planning on taking anything..."

I studied him carefully, not believing him for a second. No way I would let anyone get in the way of me and the hard work that the plantation workers had put into these crops.

"Okay," I said sharply. "Just make sure you don't come back here again."

The man nodded and quickly disappeared into the darkness. I let out a sigh of relief and made my way back to the group, feeling proud of myself for handling the situation. As I settled back into my spot, I kept my eyes open, knowing that I couldn't count on the others to stay awake. I was the only hard worker in the group, meaning I would end up as the most successful of all of us.

I was glad that it was a Saturday the next day. I only had to wake up to watch the president's announcement of the Quarter Quell, and then I was able to go back to sleep, and remain in bed for the rest of the morning.

That afternoon I was woken up by my younger brother, Jude, who came rushing into my bedroom and turned my light on and off, shouting out my name.

"God, Jude, what time is it?" I asked groggily.

"Two in the afternoon!" he cried. "How was work last night? Did any birds come and attack the crops? Were you a hero? How much longer until I can come work with you?"

"No birds last night, but there was this one suspicious-looking man," I said. "Apparently he was just passing through, but I'm not so sure..."

"He was probably going to steal all the crops," said Jude. I smiled. Jude was the youngest out of all my siblings. He was only three years younger than me, but it still felt like he was still a toddler sometimes. Not that he acted young or anything. But because he was so sweet and so enthusiastic to try and get the same job as me.

"May, I made you breakfast," said Jude. "I made it a little while ago, though, I thought you would have been up earlier, so it may be a little cold..."

"That's completely fine," I said, getting out of bed and walking out into the house. There was a bowl of grey, sludgy oats sitting on the table for me. Not an uncommon breakfast in District 11.

"Oh, look who finally got herself out of bed," said one of my older sisters, Liz, when she saw me.

"I did get up," I said, sitting down and tasting the oats. They were stone-cold, but I ate them anyway. "I just went back to bed. I was up all night, you know. I work hard."

"Alright, whatever," said Liz. "Your boyfriend was here looking for you before."

I pursed my lips. "You mean Jamal? He's not my boyfriend."

"Why was he looking for you, then?" Liz asked, raising an eyebrow.

Because he has a crush on me, I thought to myself, but I just shrugged.

"I'll go see him now. See you later."

And I finished the oats, not because it was good, but because I wanted Jude to think they were good. And I left to see Jamal.

District 11 male – Buster Melrose, 13

God. Pray to God, make this stop.

The pain was unbearable, but it didn't matter what happened. I was not giving in to this. The peacekeepers could set me on fire if they wanted to, but that wouldn't make me say I did it.

What 'it' was, I had no clue. I'd constantly been dragged into the Peacekeepers' headquarters, day after day. One Peacekeeper, Sergeant. Price, particularly hated me for some reason. He was convinced I was guilty of some crime, but he wouldn't tell me what that crime was.

So here I was, getting beat up by some Peacekeeper that I hadn't met until a week ago, keeping my head high, refusing to allow him to see me so much as wince.

"Just plead guilty," he snarled, bringing his stick down once again onto my hands, which were tied to his desk. "And this will all be over."

"I'm being honest," I said to him, keeping my tone neutral. "Maybe just tell me what you think I've done, then maybe some lost memory will click into my mind?"

He dropped the stick onto my hands, then slapped my face. "Get yourself together, boy! Stop acting dumb! You know what you did!"

I genuinely had no idea what this was all about. He was driving me crazy.

"Fine," he said. "I have two options for you. Do you want to hear them?"

"Sure," I said.

"Option A: You confess to what you did, and you'll serve a few years in prison," he said, pacing around his office as he talked to me. "Or Option B: You continue to deny your wrongdoings, and you go into the Hunger Games."

I scoffed. "I would only go into the Hunger Games if they reaped my name. My name's in there four times out of thousands of other names. I'm not going to be reaped."

"Do you not remember the end of the Hunger Games last year?" Price asked me, lowering his head to mine and speaking right in my face. "The president told us there would be the 'Quarter Quell'. Where there's a twist on the reaping of the game."

"Well, that's not going to be announced for another few days," I said to him. "I'm not confessing to anything I didn't do, and you can't force me to go into the Hunger Games. It's getting late. May I go home now?"

"Oh, yes, your parents must be awaiting your arrival... oh, wait," Price grinned at me, showing off his perfect white teeth. "You don't have any of those, do you?"

"Well, it is almost curfew at the orphanage," I said, not letting his insult get to me. "I don't think Matron will be too happy with you if she finds out you're the reason I'm arriving there so late."

Price sighed. "Fine. But you're coming here every day until you admit to what you did."

"Alright," I said shortly, as he finally untied my hands, which were red raw, and bleeding from his beating. I stood up, then got out of there as quickly as I could.

He couldn't really send me off to die. He was just a Peacekeeper, he couldn't rig the reaping.

But what if the twist of the Quarter Quell was that the Peacekeepers got to choose the tributes?

No, that wouldn't happen. Peacekeepers had a lot of power, but they didn't have that much power. I dragged myself to the orphanage, pushing the thoughts of going into the Hunger Games aside.

I wasn't one to keep my head down, but as I walked into the orphanage that night I did, because it was already past curfew, and I didn't feel like enduring another beating that day.

I walked into the boys' room, and everyone else was settling in for bed. My two best friends, Duncan and Pearson, saw me when I walked in and came over to me.

"God, Buster, we were worried you'd never end up coming back!" said Duncan.

"Oh my god, your hands..." said Pearson, lifting my hands up so he could get a better look at them. "Should we get Matron to take you to the nurse?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Plus, Matron's not going to care."

"What do they even think you did?" Duncan asked me, and I shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine," I said. "Anyway, it's lights out in what, two minutes? We should probably get into bed."

The other two nodded, and the three of us walked to our beds. The three of our beds were right next to each other in the room. It had been this way for as long as I could remember, and that was how we'd become friends.

I had been in the orphanage for the longest, having been given up to my parents to the orphanage only a couple of days after I was born. I knew nothing about my parents, why they gave me up, or where they were now.

When we were toddlers, Pearson's parents attempted to rebel against the Capitol and were killed by Peacekeepers, causing him to have to move into the orphanage. And, when we were around five or six years old, Duncan's parents realised they were too poor to raise a child anymore, so handed him over to the orphanage. The three of us had been inseparable since.

That was until I'd had to spend the past few days locked up in the Peacekeeper's Headquarters and being asked to admit to some crime I didn't commit.

But the three of us had been together through everything, and neither of them believed that I would commit any sort of crime, which was why they were both so important to me.

I spent the rest of that week missing school because I was trapped in the Peacekeeper's Headquarters, and on Saturday morning, Price made me watch the announcement of the Quarter Quell with him.

Each district would be voting in their tributes.

"Perfect!" cried Price, rubbing his hands together. "I can rig the votes. Unless you want to just tell the truth?"

I scoffed and stood up. "Yeah, right you will."

Big thanks to fiona11303 for May, and Very New To This for Buster. What did you all think of these two?

Also, we're now halfway through introducing the tributes! Who's your favourite so far (other than your own tribute if you've submitted one)? Who do you want to win? Who do you realistically think will win?