Cactus Cleo (18) D7M

Leo was an example of the perfect specimen. Everything he did was done deliberately, usually elaborately, and always perfectly. From the way he stood to the way he sat to the way he held a cup of tea, he was everything anyone could ever need to be. Every day I thanked my biological parents for leaving me in his care when I was still just a babe. If I had been left in their hands, I would never have had the chance to learn and grow under such an inspiring mentor. It was he who taught me my love of plants and he who groomed in me my ability to mimic perfection, even if I had yet to truly reach it. He said I would in the long run, and I knew that was true. Everything he said was right.

As we sat in the garden, watering and weeding our plants, I couldn't help but admire his form. He sat in such a way that I knew his knees didn't tire nor his hips slip slightly out of place the way mine did when we squatted like this. I had to wear gloves to garden while he could grab the weeds in his bare hands without damaging his flesh or soiling his clothing. Eighteen years and I hadn't mastered his grace. Still, I was sufficient to help in the garden, another thing I tried to remain grateful for. I loved plants almost as much as Leo did, though I could never do anything as fully thoroughly as he did.

"Are we yet done?" Leo asked me, already standing up. He asked the question to tell me I had to finish up, not because he didn't know the answer. Our garden was so well-kept we had almost no weeds, so it was mostly just watering plants I had already watered to perfection the day before and the day before. We didn't need to do much work. We were mostly just there to admire the plants and the fruits of our hard labor. And to maintain the facade of our greenhouse.

"Who was today's victim?" Leo continued as we moved toward the back corner of our greenhouse, toward the hidden board only we knew to move to access a hidden room. A woman sat chained in the dark, flinching and whimpering as we approached. It was no unusual matter. She was just one of the dozens of faces I had seen and helped lure.

"A homeless one who wanted a job as our maid. As though that's a service we require," I responded, only a little bit of mocking in my tone. Leo taught me not to enjoy the kill; I would only enjoy the feeding. Still, he could recognize and praise a job well done, and he did.

I ungagged the woman and smiled at her. "It's almost done," I told her, something Leo has instilled into me. We could be courteous to our prey. There was no reason to make their final moments worse.

"What do you want with me?" she asked, a quiver in her voice while she tried to sound indignant.

"Me? Nothing. Audrinus triosmium, though, thrives only off human flesh, and you're lucky enough to be her next meal."

Rowena Aspen (14) D7F

People always said that my being so impulsive would come back to bite me in the... butt. I never really listened to their warnings, though. I knew good and well they were right, but I couldn't be bothered to care that they were right. Yeah, sure, I made stupid decisions all of the time, and yeah, sure, often the consequences really sucked, but what's life without a little risk? What's the point of living just to survive when I could thrive and only sometimes starve for three days straight? Risk and reward was a calculation I ran constantly and reward almost always won. When I bothered to calculate.

During the Reaping, I wasn't supposed to do anything really dumb. Because most things I could do during the Reaping that were dumb were illegal, and I was kinda trapped in a confined space around several Peacekeepers until it ended. That didn't stop me from doing things that were only a little dumb, like pickpocketing one of the girls next to me. I wanted to get something actually valuable - punk looked rich - but whatever I got was just some bracelet. I gave it back when I realized it was probably her token and it would really suck to go into the Games without a token on accident.

I always loved seeing Winnifred walk onto the stage. She always had such an interesting dress, and she got to travel the world so much. I always wanted to travel, so I tried to live vicariously through her. No one in Seven really got to travel, unless you counted traveling outside to the lumber yard. That was hardly an adventure at all. No, Winnifred got to go to the Capitol, an adventure I thought sounded amazing. I wanted to go everywhere, see everything. It was the one upside of seeing each Hunger Games each year. They were a tragedy and I hated them, but at least I got to see something pretty while I was legally required to watch.

I didn't always love seeing Winnifred reach into the Reaping bowls. The whole crowd went from nervous muttering to absolute silence. No more wisecracks, no more complaints about the weather, just everyone's complete, rapt attention staring at the woman in the neon green dress.

When Winnifred called Cactus Cleo, I didn't really have a strong reaction. I basically immediately mourned the death of another Seven, because that's what it was, but I didn't know him enough to respond any more strongly than any other year. I was interested to see how calm he was. For just a second, he panicked. He probably thought no one saw, but I saw the panic in his eyes. Then he was smiling and waving, cheesing up the cameras. Good for him.

When Winnifred called Juniper Leaf, my heart stopped. Juniper was my best friend. I loved her more than anything else in the world. And she wasn't like me. She was sweet and kind and caring. I wasn't mean for the sake of meanness, but at least I knew how to survive. I knew how to sneak and how to steal. And I knew how to make the situation right.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I called out, knowing the words were dumb even as I said them. But hey, I would get to see the Capitol. I'd even get to see an Arena.

Pretty sure I'd get to see Heaven, too.