Not much to say here except...

President Vandara Vetrios: I need the last few Tributes. Hurry, I think only one spot is left. Oh, and I do not own this idea, these Hunger Games. All credit goes to the very first President after the Dark Days, President Susan Collins. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.

Me, Fri13Girl: YIPES! What is the President of Panem doing here! Anyways, it's a great honor, and yeah. What she said about ownership.


Aurora Austriallis, Capitolite (diary entry number... unknown.)

I swear; I either need to get a prescription for sleeping pills or go get the cheap ones from the drugstore! I had trouble falling asleep last night. When I finally fell asleep, I had... let's just call them dreams that I'm not going to describe for reasons that... I'm not going to describe.

Anyway, I woke up exactly four hours, fifty-seven minutes, eight seconds, and forty-eight hundredths of a second after I fell asleep. Why did I wake up? My phone was ringing. And of course, I answered it.

"Hello?" I asked. I was tired and it was two in the morning.

"So you want to come to my place?" Some random guy's whose voice was on the other end of the line asked.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"Oh, um, this is awkward." The guy sounded embarrassed. "Sorry, wrong number." I hit end and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, I couldn't. Cursing the idiot who got the wrong number under my breath, I wandered around my apartment. Seeing my old-time books about princesses and princes, I paged through them. It didn't do any good cheering me up, or even making me sleepy. All it did was depress me because the all princesses had handsome princes, and I was single. Frustrated, I threw the books to the side and picked up the remote.

I decided to watch the District 4 Reapings. I needed the sunshine to cheer me up along with a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream. So, mug in hand, I watched the Reapings, throwing in commentary.

The escort, Noralinda Peach was wearing a sexy sparkly salmon colored cocktail dress (whoa there, me, gay moment. What I was saying was that it wasn't exactly modest!). She was what, nineteen? I wouldn't even wear a dress like that if you paid me!

Anyway, she was all decked out in emerald jewelry (doesn't really go with the salmon dress and her hair coloring, which is a shiny black). Noralinda had light makeup on, unlike a lot of the people in my building. By the way, I read in the tabloids that Noralinda was caught on a date with the famous singer Brent Jacobs! He is a true heartthrob! He has these gorgeous dimples that make practically every girl's knees go weak... Oh, she's so lucky.

Ok, back to the District 4 Reapings. Noralinda was wearing these six inch heels since she's so short. Only about four foot eleven. Dang, I never thought I'd be glad to be five-three. I guess we have the same idea because I'm rarely seen without high heels. At least I have amazing hair to make up for being so short…

Wow, I get off topic easily…

"Welcome to the District 4 Reapings!" Noralinda said with her pearly white grin, her glittery lip gloss shining and winking in the sun. Her hair and eye shadow was glittering like the ocean behind her, and I was pretty sure that Noralinda must have coordinated her outfit sparkles with her backgrounds' shimmering, because they worked perfectly together. "It is that time of year again... Time for the Ninety-ninth Hunger Games!" The people of District 4 began cheering.

"As you know, we need two Tributes. One male Tribute and one female Tribute, so let's see who our female Tribute is!"

Ever so slowly, Noralinda walked to the Reaping bowl which was sort of in the shape of a stadium. It caved in like a funnel and opened up so that Noralinda could put her hand in. In the caved in part, there were tiny red and gold dots.

Noralinda plunged her gloved hand in and pulled out a piece of paper. I don't know how, but I fell asleep just then. When I woke up, the recording was done. I face palmed. How could I fall asleep at such a suspenseful moment? When I woke up again, it was five in the morning. Well, at least I got in a few more hours of sleep, but before watching the rest of the District 4 Reapings, I did a bit of meditation. It relaxes me in the mornings.

I still felt stupid for falling asleep, but I was grateful for the extra hours of sleep. When I finally got back to watching the Reapings, it was about five forty-five in the morning.

Noralinda was reaching into the girls' Reaping bowl. She pulled the paper out and made her way to the microphone, unfolding the paper as she walked.

"Mistle Lou," Noralinda called out. The camera zoomed on a red head in the seventeen year old girl area. One head was moving to the edge. When I saw her, at first I thought she was a boy. That poor girl needs implants in the worst way possible - her chest was as flat as a sidewalk!

Mistle had long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing a wrinkled white shirt with a collar, and a black pencil skirt with low black wedges. The camera zoomed in on her face. She looked slightly surprised, but when she began to smirk, all surprise was wiped off of her face. Soon, Mistle reached the microphone, and when she did, her face and bright green eyes were devilishly dangerous.

"So, Mistle, how old are you?" Noralinda asked.

"I am seventeen." The smirk stayed on her face.

"And now for the male Tribute." Noralinda strode to the boys' Reaping bowl and sank her gloved hand into a Reaping bowl identical to the girls'. She fished out a piece of paper and dragged out going to the microphone even more than the first time.

Mistle Lou rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her flat chest. You could almost see her thinking "Oh, hurry up already!"

"And our male Tribute is… Quinlin Davis." Noralinda called out.

"I volunteer as Tribute." A boy swaggered out. I nearly burst out laughing when I saw that he was wearing practically the same outfit as Mistle Lou, except his shirt wasn't wrinkled, and he was wearing pants instead of a skirt. The shirt was clearly ironed silk.

The boy was tall, well-built and tan. His blonde hair was towards the left. He had a laid-back smile on his lips. He mounted the steps and stood next to Noralinda.

"So, what's your name?" She asked.

"Axl Floyd," Axl replied with a smirk. His blue eyes sparkled.

"So Axl, how old are you?" Noralinda asked. I noticed that Mistle was watching Axl. Ooh, looks like someone has a little crush!

"Seventeen," Axl replied, without missing a beat. Now that I think about it, he and Mistle wouldn't make a bad couple… That is, if Mistle doesn't have a boyfriend and Axl doesn't have a girlfriend.

"So, District 4! Here are your Tributes for the Ninety-ninth Annual Hunger Games!" Noralinda smiled. She was probably thinking about Brent Jacobs and his oh-so-dreamy-smile... Lucky Escorts! They always have the best boyfriends or girlfriends, respectively.


So, how'd everyone like District 4? I might be able to get another update in here before tomorrow, but I'm not promising anything...