Mackenzie "Mac" Pricker, 18

District 9 Female

"Hey babe, I'm home!" I called as I stepped inside, pulling our front door shut behind me. Our shack was slightly crooked and the door didn't fit perfectly in the frame, so you had to give it a firm tug.

Brady was sitting at the table, bent over something. He leaned over further when I came inside.

"Hi love!" he called. "I'm working on a surprise for you, so don't look!"

"Okay," I said with a laugh, heading over to the tiny kitchen to put our groceries away. "I do have something I want to talk to you about though."

"Sounds good," he said, not looking up from his project.

After putting away the milk and eggs I went to sit on our lumpy sofa. Everything in our shack was bought secondhand or made by us. We had almost no money to get by, even though we both worked full time in the factories. That's what happened when you ran away from home and eloped.

But it was worth it. Brady was the only person in the world who cared about me. My parents were gone; probably in prison or avoxed in the Capitol. My little sister could be anywhere. I hadn't seen her since we were separated. I still had a scar on my wrist from her fingernails as we dragged apart.

My childhood was happy. We lived in a small community of Irish travelers and sold lovely little trinkets to get by. But District 9 saw us in a dark light, and when I was ten, Peacekeepers attacked our wagons. The adults were imprisoned or enslaved, and the kids were torn apart.

When the Pricker's adopted me, I thought I had a second chance. But they were cold and abusive. The only good thing that came from my time in their estate was meeting Brady. He'd suffered just as much as I had, and we promised to always be there for each other.

"Done!" Brady proclaimed suddenly, startling me out of my thoughts.

"What did you make?" I asked, leaning forward. He came over to sit beside me and presented an intricately woven bracelet made of straw.

"I made us matching bracelets," he said, a shy smile on his face. I gasped.

"Brady! I love them!"

Grinning, he tied mine around my wrist and allowed me to do the same for him. Then I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," he replied. "What did you want to talk about?"

I took a deep, nervous breath.

"My co-worker Claudia was telling me about her sister's new job, and I think it has the potential to benefit us as well."

"What is it?" Brady asked.

"She's working in the adult film industry," I said quietly. Brady's dark eyes widened.

"What!" he yelled. "You want to be a porn star? Just some common slut?"

"I am not a slut!" I shrieked, anger flaring through me. Without thinking, my hand came up and struck my husband's cheek. Brady jerked back and burst into tears.

I leapt to my feet and backed away, tears in my eyes too.

"Brady," I whispered. "I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to." But Brady just whimpered, refusing to make eye contact with me.

I cautiously came to sit beside him again and took his hands in mine.

"I shouldn't have hit you," I said again. "I'm sorry." He nodded.

"I don't want you to be at the mercy of gross men and women," he said. "And I don't want to give you up. You're so special to me. I couldn't bear to lose you."

"You wouldn't lose me," I promised. "I love you and only you. But I understand your worries. If you feel strongly about this, I won't do it."

"I do," Brady said. "I need you here, with me."

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised. And he kissed me.

Brady Deere, 18

District 9 Male

I laid on my back, staring up at the ceiling as Mac snored lightly beside me. I couldn't sleep. Worry was plaguing me, whipping my thoughts into a frenzy. What if Mac didn't want to be with me anymore? Was her idea of becoming a porn star just her way of breaking away? Was she cheating on me?

I knew how awful cheating could be. My dad cheated on his wife, my aunt, with her own sister. My mom died giving birth to me and my aunt left my dad, who turned to alcohol. And things continued going downhill. My dad remarried, and I gained an infant step-brother. I also started to work for the Pricker family, who owned massive fields as part of their estate. At first, I idolized them. They were shrewd businesspeople and were quite wealthy. But they treated their children as poorly as my dad treated me.

When my step-brother Till died, Mac and I left home. We built this shack and got factory jobs and saved every penny we had. We only had each other in this world, and losing her would break me.

I rolled onto my side and looked out the window. To my horror, someone was looking back at me. They ducked down as soon as I saw them.

"Mac," I gasped, reaching over to shake her. "Someone's outside."

In seconds we were both out of bed. Mac rushed to grab the hatchet we used for chopping firewood as I crept to the door. After a moment of hesitation I threw it open and Mac gasped.

"Hello Mackenzie," the intruder said, waltzing inside like she owned the place. I felt my jaw drop. It was Panelle Pricker.

"Get out," Mac growled, advancing on her adopted mother. But Panelle seemed unfazed.

"You lost us two years in finances," she explained, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "I'm just here to let you know that I'll be collecting the money next week. If you don't have it… we'll have to take legal action."

I gulped. Panelle had no ground to stand on here, but she was rich. She could easily get the Peacekeepers and other government officials to repossess our home and take all our money.

"Get out," Mackenzie hissed again. "Right now. Or I'll use this." Panelle's eyes flickered to the ax and I saw a hint of fear in them. But she scoffed.

"And kill me? You'll be imprisoned for life. I have more power in my pinky than you will ever have."

She stood up and dusted herself off.

"I'll see you next week." Then she waved and strutted out the door. Mac dropped the hatchet on the table and ran to slam the old door shut. Then she sank down against it and began to sob. I got down on the floor and cried with her.

Destiny Aurald, 20

District 9 Escort

Nerves twisted my stomach as I wrung my hands together. The victors were arguing and I had no idea what to do. Dakota, the victor in a wheelchair, was deep in a heated discussion with Ceres, who looked afraid. Dominic, District 9's old escort, warned me Dakota could be quite the spitfire, but I wasn't prepared for the yelling.

"Don't worry," a soft voice said from behind me. I jumped a little, turning to see Oberon Murdoch smiling at me. "Dakota can be hot-headed, but she does care for people."

"Of course I do," Dakota snapped, having clearly overheard the conversation. "Do people assume I don't?"

"People assume you're mean," Maddox, the other victor who was present, said.

"Well, then they're mean," Dakota pouted.

"Great comeback," Maddox said with a snort.

"Anyways," Ceres said loudly in an attempt to redirect everyone's attention. "It's almost time and most of you haven't even introduced yourselves!" She turned to me and smiled.

"I promise we all have manners," she said. "Now, I've got to go find Bran. Someone please entertain Destiny." Then she scuttled off, shaking her head.

"I don't need entertainment," I said, smoothing out my puffy purple skirt. "I'm fine, I promise."

"It's okay to be nervous for your first year," Maddox said. "But none of us bite, except for maybe Dakota…"

"Hey!"

"But we're a team. We all want to work together."

"Okay," I said with a small smile. "I want to work together too."

After a moment Ceres came back with an old man in a tweed jacket. His eyelids were drooping and he staggered as if he was drunk, but he gave me a nod. I returned it with a nervous smile and a wave.

"Ms. Aurald?" someone called. I turned to see a Peacekeeper in full uniform standing in the doorway. "It's time."

"Oh! Alright." I followed him to the door and took several deep breaths before walking out onto the stage.

"Hello everyone!" I said when I reached the microphone. I adjusted my tophat slightly and waved to the crowd.

"I'm Destiny Aurald, your new escort, and I'm very excited to be here. Today is a big day and I'm honored to be sharing it with all of you. But first we have to watch a short film, put together by the President himself! Enjoy!"

I turned to watch the video play on the big screens, sighing quietly in relief when it was over. I didn't like the bloody images of the war, though I knew the President had to be clear to get his message across.

"Now let's welcome our past victors, and then we can select our tributes!" I clapped along with the audience as Bran staggered onstage, followed by Ceres, Maddox, Dakota, and finally Oberon. They all took their seats and I looked over at the glass bowl.

Still filled with trepidation, I walked over to the bowl of paper slips and put my hand in. My thin, dark fingers, tipped with purple nails, stood out starkly against the white tags. I picked up a slip and walked back to the microphone before unfolding it.

"Mackenzie Pricker!"

An 18-year-old with long strawberry blonde hair stepped forward. She had big gray eyes and a light dusting of freckles across her nose, and was overall quite pretty. She climbed the stairs and smiled at me.

"Please, call me Mac O'Brien."

"Oh! Okay!" I gasped. Then I hurried over to the boys' bowl.

"Ian Burke!"

"I volunteer!"

My eyes widened as the crowd gasped. A tall, tanned boy with black hair in a bun rushed forward. Mac began to scream.

"No! Brady! No! Don't do this!" She tried to run to him but a Peacekeeper caught her arm. The boy climbed the stairs and came to stand on the other side of me. There were tears in his eyes. Mac was still yelling.

"Um, what is your name?" I stammered, holding out the microphone.

"Brady Deere," he said in a shaky voice. Mac was fighting against the Peacekeepers and I had to speak up to be heard over her shouts.

"District 9, I give you your tributes: Mac O'Brien and Brady Deere!"

Ta-da! Here are the District 9 intros! Thank you to Kkstar47 for all three of these characters. They're going to be quite interesting to write. And just for the record, Mac and Brady are not actively abusive towards each other. That is not an excuse to hit your partner, but it does make sense for characters who have been exposed to unhealthy relationships and have taken on some of those unhealthy habits. I want to stay true to the characters but still make it clear that violence in a relationship is NOT acceptable.

Questions

1) Who has been your favorite escort so far?

2) Who has been your favorite tribute so far?

3) Have you liked seeing little snippets of the victors?

Have a nice day, be kind to each other, and never stop reading!

- Fiona