Trigger warning: mentions of eating disorders and depression in Gala's section.

Ashleen Dessup, 17
District 8 Female Tribute

School had just let out. Students flooded into the streets, glad to have escaped the stuffy classrooms they were stuck in from early morning to mid-afternoon. But that didn't mean there weren't places to be. Many kids had part-time jobs to work, to help provide a little bit of extra income for their families. There was no shortage of available employment opportunities in District 8, thanks to the Dark Days. It was sad, but people needed workers.

Some kids were lucky. Their family could afford to live off of the adults' paychecks, allowing children to be children and enjoy a more carefree side of life. Ashleen Dessup was one of these such lucky kids. Part of her felt a touch guilty knowing her parents worked strenuous hours in the factories to put food on the table. She was also insanely grateful.

Because now, she could spend all the time in the world she wanted at the library.

For Ashleen, the library was a safe haven from the outside world. A utopia of books and desks and peace, where she could read to her heart's content without anyone ever bothering her. It wasn't like she hated being around people. No, most people were actually nice. But there was just something about solitude that Ashleen absolutely loved, and thus she kept to herself.

The old librarian smiled at her as Ashleen slipped through the doors and looked for somewhere to sit. She chose a small table hidden away in a dusty corner, before choosing out the books she wanted to read. Once satisfied with her selection, Ashleen sat back down.

In this corner, she was safe. Safe from the peril of the Dark Days and the struggle of life in the districts following the war's wake. Safe from the impending Hunger Games, and what they represented. Safe from poverty and smog, bloodshed and violence and death.

Gala Blessing, 14
District 9 Female Tribute

Gala picked at the food on her plate, feeling her stomach do a flip flop. She knew she had to eat this, to take a few bites. After all, food wasn't always the easiest to come by sometimes, especially when it was split across so many mouths, and she knew to count her blessings. Her parents were lucky they could afford to feed her and her sister properly.

But she just couldn't bring herself to eat it.

Across from Gala, Mangona was happily chatting about how her day went. That took the attention off Gala, so her parents wouldn't realize that she had barely eaten anything. She just couldn't. It was so frustratingly hard to explain. Gala loved her family and would never want to disappoint them by practically disrespecting all their hard work. But the food was almost taunting her.

Eventually, she just gave up. "Mom, can I head out?"

"Of course, dear. Be back before sunset."

Gala nodded and quickly took her plate off the table before anyone noticed. She scraped the food into the trash and disappeared out the door. Maybe spending some time with her friends would make her feel better. She loved her friends. They were the greatest people in the whole world.

These days, it was hard to feel anything.

Gala knew the world was full of colour, but sometimes, she only saw monochrome. And it was dreary. She could smile and laugh, but her grin never fully reached her eyes and her chuckles sounded hollow. She could get up in the morning and go outside, but realized that it simply wasn't fun and she wanted to go back and hide under her blankets.

It just made no sense why she was feeling this way, but she didn't want to trouble anyone. People went through enough hardships already. Gala needed to be there to help her friends and family.

So she continued walking.

Bull Clementine, 17
District 10 Male Tribute

There was blood on his gloves and apron. Bull didn't care. It simply came with the job. If you weren't prepared to get yourself covered in animal guts when you signed up to work at the slaughterhouse, then it probably wasn't the job for you.

Bull wiped his hands on his apron, streaking more blood across it, but now allowing himself to grip things more efficiently. Reaping Day was in two days, and it seemed like literally every family in District 10 had the same idea. Feasts were to happen tomorrow, a chance to eat a good meal with loved ones in case the Reaping snatched them away to throw them into this new spectacle called the Hunger Games.

Bull didn't get why they were called that, since the Games sounded like they had nothing to do with food, but that wasn't his problem. His job was helping his coworkers keep up with demands. It was taking its toll on everyone and these past few days they had all stayed late to prepare the cuts of meat to go out to the butchers. Well, most of them were headed to the Capitol, who seemed to treat the Reaping like a holiday.

But Bull was a big guy. He could handle it. He had to; he had trained himself to be strong and powerful, able to take on any task life threw at him. Nothing good came from being weak, after all. In a place like 10, where there was never any time to laze around, only the strong flourished and thrived. The rebellion and the Dark Days had certainly been proof of that. Many were killed, by Peacekeepers or bombs or starvation and infection, but Bull and his family had made it out unscathed.

"Hard times breed better men," his father always used to say.

Bull mused over this as he helped carry boxes onto a wagon. They were beyond heavy, weighed down by the slabs of meat that had been packed tightly inside and sealed up. To Bull, it was like carrying almost nothing.

Lain Crescentfell, 16
District 10 Female Tribute

The day was almost over, and Lain was glad for it. She didn't mind dealing with customers; most people were pretty friendly. They understood what had happened to her, given how easily news spread around the enclosed district, and so the regulars knew to be patient with her when she wrote things down instead of speaking.

But for some reason, everyone was buying bread today and Lain found the influx of new faces almost overwhelming. She was grateful that her parents stepped in and let her switch places with her mother, so she could work in the back instead. Lain shaped rolls of dough, cut up fruit to use in tarts or cakes, and kept an eye on whatever was baking in the ovens.

But finally, they were closed. Lain's mother slipped into the back and gave her a hug. "Thank you so much for your help, sweetie pie."

Lain hugged her mother back. When she broke away, she grabbed a sack and began shoving the stale and older baked goods into it.

Her mother just watched her in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Lain quickly scrawled down her response onto the nearest sheet of paper. "I'm taking these out to the people who need them."

"Well, alright. But please come back as soon as you're done. And be mindful of the Peacekeepers."

Lain nodded and dashed outside.

District 10 had no shortage of the homeless, the orphaned, or the beggars. And it tugged at Lain's heartstreets to see so many people just sitting in the streets, nowhere warm or safe to go. She couldn't magically make a roof appear over their heads, but at the very least, she could give them something to eat.

An old man raised his head in surprise as she handed him a baguette. "Why, thank you very much! You must be an angel!"

Lain couldn't help but blush at the comment.