Thank you all who were patient enough to wait for me to be able to re-post this story. I got at least two more Tributes, and cannot wait for more!

Also, please do not send any Tributes in via review until I know how to remove those reviews, as I do NOT want to have to put the whole story up again!


Aurora Austriallis, Capitolite

OMG! I CANNOT believe that I was late to watch the Reapings! My stupid boss kept me at work late. Can you believe he tried to take me out to dinner? Gah! Winngaard is, like, forty and OVERWEIGHT! I, on the other hand, just celebrated my 21st birthday! My absolute favorite gift was an Asian Avox; she is SO exotic-looking. Her black hair is cut in a dramatic A-line, and I have forbidden her from wearing any of that white Avox makeup - it's so dreary and dull!

Anyway, I was just in time to watch the Reaping in District 11, and I only got to see the girl! My stupid boss called just as they were about to call the boy, and I missed it! I wasn't even able to watch District 12, boring as they always are, because Winngaard wanted me back at work. Something about a special call from President Vandara Vetrios herself! Winngaard was super excited, and it seems like President Vetrios needs another scientist as a Gamemaker, 'cause she had to kill the last one (the mutts weren't very exciting). I hope I don't get picked...

Back to the original subject: the Reapings. That 11 girl looks like she has fire! I certainly like the looks of her! When I got to my TV (this was before my boss called), the Escort for District 11, Vogue Embraer, was just reaching into the Reaping bowl. This year, it looked like one of the skyscrapers here in the Capitol... Odd. I hope the Arena has a city in it this year! Anyway, Vogue pulled a name out of the skyscraper with her traditional "Now, for District 11's lucky female Tribute!" She opened the slip, looked at it with a look of disgust, and called out, "Cinnamon Spice! Please come forward!"

There was a flurry of activity in the back row. A small girl, about seven, was clinging to a tall, wiry, African girl. Her t-shirt had some words on it, but until the camera zoomed in on Cinnamon, I couldn't read the words. When I was finally able to distinguish the letters, I was shocked! The words were "F**K you, Capitol B***H's!" You could tell that the words had been handwritten on the shirt. I was quite happy a moment later when the cameras blurred out the writing on the girl's shirt. That kind of language and attitude is completely uncalled for and rebellious!

Cinnamon pried her little sister off of her legs and stormed her way to the stage. Confidence radiated from her very being, and she glared at anyone who dared make eye contact. When she got to the stage, she glared at the Escort ferociously. If looks could kill, Cinnamon's would have put Vogue on the floor in agony. Vogue ignored the glare and asked Cinnamon "What was that all about?"

Cinnamon snorted. "Oh, you know," she scowled, "Younger siblings. I am all she has left, so I guess she doesn't want to lose me."

"I see," said Vogue. "So what's her name?"

"Sugar."

"And how old are you, Cinnamon?"

Cinnamon gave a dry laugh. "I am eighteen. One more year and she wouldn't have to worry about me, eh? And if I hadn't been Reaped, she would have been later!"

Vogue is startled. "And why is that?" she asks, confused. It appears that Cinnamon is done talking, though, and Vogue is moving to the Boy's bowl when my phone rings.