User blog:Alicerosewright/121st Hunger Games

These are my first Games, so I will be very pleased if you joined!! :)

I will be writing these Games in POVs of the tributes, and I will be writing about some more than others, though I will try and write as many POVs for each of them as possible.

I am writing this in the future - Katniss was killed instead of Rue so there was no rebellion, and the Games continued as normal as ever, though the Gamemakers have increased the number of Victors so that the audience have more to talk about and bet on.

This time, '''there can be four winners. '''

Rules/Important Parts

 * You can only enter four tributes
 * You may give advice and sponsor (I will only let you use three parachutes)
 * I will try and write to the best of my ability (which I hope is good enough to enjoy!)
 * Please no getting angry at tributes death.
 * No swearing or spiteful words about me or any other users or tributes!
 * You can advertise your own Games here, but message me before doing so, and only do it once!
 * I will only be writing about reapings, but I will be posting private scores first, and then onto the Games
 * There will be a surprise twist, though it will be revealed later!
 * If you have any ideas for storylines with your tributes, leave me a message!

Tribute Template
Name: (First and Last)

Gender:

District:

Age: (12-18)

Personality:

Strengths

Fears: (Must have 1)

Weapons: (In order of prefrence)

Backstory: (Doesn't have to be long, but include info about family members)

Alliance: (E.g. Careers, others from district etc.)

Picture/Description: (It can be a picture or it can be typed)

What will they perform in private training?: (I will be basing scores on this!)

Bloodbath Strategy: (optional)

Token (Optional)

Arena Description
The Arena is the shape of the ying-yang symbol, and reasonably large. It has a tropical climate and environment. At the left-side circle (in the ying-yang, it would be the black dot), is the Cornucopia, with the tribute platforms all around it. However, the Cornucopia is based on a tiny island in a huge lagoon and tributes must swim to reach it, and tributes unable to swim are likely to drown in the water. Outside the lagoon, there is a small, sandy shore before you reach the second half of the ying-yang shape. On this half, there is tropical forest where many animals can be found to eat, though mutts often appear here. Towards the left of the forest, there is a second shore that breaks off abruptly into thick coral in a lagoon (the second dot, In the ying-yang symbol it would be the white dot). This coral is a good source of seafood, but some of the sea plants are dangerous, and shark mutts can attack tributes here.At the back part of the arena, there are mountains (the brown bits on the pic), that are about a mile wide each. They are mostly rocky mountains, but melting snow high up is a good source of water. Birds, small rodents and mountain goats populate the mountains. These animals are plentiful, so the mountains are a very good source of food. However, there is one ferocious lion cross grizzly bear mutt that patrols all mountains and can easily kill tributes unless they are good fighters and armed. As the lagoon and ocean are both saltwater, the only way to get clean water is from dripping leaves and the scarce rainfall and the melting snow off the mountains. However, some backpacks contain filters that do not use fires to turn saltwater into drinking water, though there are only two of these filters.

Alliances
Careers:

Odin Amarth (1M), Petri Lindroos (2M), Beemo Xra (3F), Alyssa Mason (7F), Scarlett Winters (2F), Pharmacy Rivera (9F), Amy Clarke (12F)

Leader: Odin Amarth

D4, D10 + D11:

Oceania Seacrest (4F), Kalmah XXIV (4M), Alexandria Maydon (10F), Blaine Fitz (10M), Rubin Jett (11M)

Leader: Oceania Seacrest (4F)

Co-Leader: Rubin Jett (11M)

D5, D6, D8, D12 + D13:

Gaara Ryughan (5M), Luna Sunkin (6F), Star Sunkin (6M), Rebekah Ure (8F), Trent Greer (12M), Crimson Typhoon (13M)

Leader: Gaara Ryughan (5M)

Co-Leader: Luna Sunkin (6F)

Alone:

Nymph Meré (1F), Katarina Seacrest (5F), Yoshi Holiday (8M), Matthew Haper (9M), Aislyn Latona (11F), Shyvana Feuer (13F), Brandon Ivey (7M), Nick Maclachlan (3M)

Private Training Scores
Hope I haven't been to harsh! Things that were more interesting and impressive got the higher scores.

District 1 - Odin Amarth
Today is my last reaping. I've waited long enough, and I know that if I do not become a tribute, I will never bring glory to District 1, as the God Odin brought glory to his people. I line up alongside many other hopeful children, and let my Father take my blood sample. He's a Peacekeeper if you hadn't guessed. I hardly ever see him, but whenever I'm at the Reapings he's always there, and this year is no different. I am ordered to stand at the correct age row as our wildly dressed escort appears on stage. She looks excitedly over the crowd, her gaze catching mine.

“Let's start with the girls!” Ruby announces, reaching her hand into the Reaping bowl. She draws out a small slip, her claw-like fake nails making it a struggle to unravel the paper. “Nymph Meré!” She calls out. Everyone looks to the girl stepping out of the crowd. Everyone knows who Nymph is. She's the forbidden daughter of a master and a servant, and the crazy girl who stills has tea parties with imaginary friends. “So, are you excited?” Ruby asks cheerfully. Nymph glares at the woman in shock. Ruby points the microphone in Nymph's direction. The crazy girl screams down the mic, making the whole crowd wince and cover their ears. “Okay, now for the boys...” Ruby stalls the picking, thinking there would be volunteers. I know it is either now or never. “I volunteer!” I yell. Nobody else seems to be wanting to volunteer, but then who would want to compete against a psycho like Nymph? Ruby calls me up to the stage. “And what's your name?” She asks.

“Odin Amarth.” I answer. As Ruby announces us as the official tributes for District 1, I look over at my father. I can see that he is finally proud of me. Maybe I will bring glory to Odin and to my district.

District 2 - Scarlett Winters
My boss wishes me good luck before I merge into the huge crowd of District 2 kids. I see lots of panicked 12-year-olds, believing they will get reaped immediately. But they won't. I could laugh at the fact they don't know their future. But I know mine. I had requested my name to be rigged, after all. Maybe they are scared that they do not know what will become of their futures - but how would I know? I've always known my future. I've always known my job, but they haven't. It's just one of the side-effects of telling lies to District 2, I guess. Our escort, Maximus Estes, appears on stage with a beaming grin on his face. He is wearing a ridiculous suit the colour of blood. Or wine -- whatever floats your boat. "Welcome to the District 2 reaping of the 121st Hunger Games!" The crowd roars with delight, but others roll their eyes carelessly. I just stand still, not caring, keeping to my cover. "As always, ladies first!" He announces. He puts his hand in the bowl, drawing out a short slip. "Scarlett Winters!" I run immediately up onto stage excitedly, before anyone can volunteer instead of me. "So, Scarlett, are you looking forward to the Games?" He asks, handing me the microphone to speak. I smile sinisterly. "Yes. I am very excited." I reply, handing the mic back to him. He nods appreciatively, and then begins to pick out a male's name. I scan the crowds, analyzing all the boys who might make worthy opponents. I spot the son of someone I killed when I first began my job with the secret organization. He had no idea what happened to his father. We framed him for it, which became kind of a joke between me and my boss. The son was put in prison, not even arguing against the accusation made against him. His father deserved to die, anyway. He told the truth to his wife about our organization, and we heard him do it. We hear everyone's conversations, we follow their lives, all the time. So he had to die. I continue to look over the crowds, feeling like Victor already, as Maximus calls out the male tribute's name. "Petri Lindroos!" The boy's name is Petri. I never knew that, despite the fact I framed him for his father's murder. Petri walks up on stage, his fists clenched until his knuckles turn white. But his face is calm, his posture collected. He looks horrifyingly similar to his father. Perhaps killing him will be easier than it was to kill his father. Maybe I can lie about his death, and say he was killed by someone else. I realize how much lies District 2 has been told by me, by my organization. So many kids, told lies by their parents who don't even know they're doing it. But District 2 has always been that way. It's just a pile of lies, stories and secrets. Here, some people say that the truth hurts, but in fact, the truth kills.

District 3 - Beemo Xra
I meet up with my friends ready for the Reaping. They're nervous and slightly afraid. We line up in the crowd, surrounded by hundreds of other girls our age. My best friend hugs me and wishes me good luck, and I return the favor. For some reason, the Reaping this year feels different. I don't know why. A huge female Peacekeeper taps us in order as we are being 'too noisy', which angers me and as they turn around, I make a face behind her back. My friends giggle, and I smile with them. Our escort tests the microphone, and I point out to my friends that she has dyed her skin slightly pink! We are about to laugh when a Peacekeeper gives us sharp looks, which almost instantaneously shuts us up. Every time I look at those white-uniformed soldiers I always see my brothers, who I have not seen since I was nine. A shiver runs through me as I recall Jake being whipped to death, and my other brother Finn being dragged away to imprisonment. I still do not understand what happened that day - I just know that I was kept in my house alone - when I was not at school, which I learned to value and treasure, because that's where I met all my friends and forgot what happened in my past, even though the death of my brother hurt me a little more every day. My friends and I fall silent as the escort announces the 121st Hunger Games, and dips her hand into the Reaping bowl like she's picking out sweets from a jar. "Beemo Xra!" She calls out, her eyes wandering the crowd in search of me. I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest, covering my ears in the hope that it is not real. My friends start sobbing around me, all of them hugging me tightly, I never wanting to let go. The female Peacekeeper takes hold of my arms, and drags me up to the stage, kicking and screaming like a banshee. Our escort is wide-eyed at the drama I am creating. "So, are you looking forward to competing, Beemo?" She asks stupidly, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off. "Get off me you pink freak," I mutter. She looks deeply offended, and shuffles away in her heels, quite disgusted by my attitude. I couldn't care less now that I'm going into the Hunger Games. "Let's begin with the boys, shall we?" Our escort says hastily. She draws out a slip and skim reads it. I can tell she has sight issues because she holds the paper so close to her face she might as well stick it to her eyeball. "Nick Maclachlan!" A black-haired and olive-skinned 14-year old emerges from the thick crowd of boys that look almost like his clones. He trots up on stage, and our escort is reluctant to say anything to him. But, out of the little kindness she has, she points the microphone at him. "So, Nick, do you reckon you are experienced enough to win these Games?"

"Yes. Oh, and by the way, I love the Capitol," He says, quite clearly sarcastic. I laugh, but our escort doesn't get it, and makes a strange face like a confused puppy. She ignores it and continues, still working it out in her mind. Nick and I exchange glances and smile at each other.

"And here we have our District 3 tributes for the 121st Hunger Games!"

District 4 - Oceania Seacrest
Peacekeepers give me strange looks when I turn up at the square for the Reapings. They haven't seen me since last year, when I won my other Games. I laugh at how ridiculous they look, perhaps more ridiculous than all the freakishly ugly Capitol people. I remembered my nutty cousin, Katarina, and wonder if she ever recovered from the fact that I beat her. I'm a Victor already, though the Capitol let me be put in the Reaping bowl still, for whatever reason they have. I get lost in the crowds, and Hestia and Cleo appear on stage. They're twins, I think, because it appears like I am seeing double. They are wearing the same dresses, have the same hairstyle, the same perfect makeup - and the same amount of stupidity. "Hey guys! Are you excited?" Hestia questions, expecting a huge cheer. There is silence, except for the sea waves crashing against the beach nearby. "Well, let's start with the boys!" Cleo announces. Her sister elbows her crossly. "No, we're doing girls first!" Hestia argues. "Boys!" Cleo screams, her winy voice making the whole crowd cover their ears in the hope that it will shield them from being deafened by these monstrosities. "Girls!" Hestia slaps her sister on the arm, making Cleo shriek. "MAKE A DECISION!" Someone yells impatiently. All of us are wanting to get these Reapings over and done with. The girls make faces at each other, Cleo sticking her tongue out in a most undesirable fashion. They're lucky that the camera crew can edit this out. Hestia reaches her hand into the girls' bowl, and Cleo picks out the male's name from her bowl. "Kalmah..." Cleo hesitates, showing her sister the slip. "What's this word?" She whispers, showing her twin. "It's a number, you idiot!" Hestia hisses. "Kalmah XXIV!" They finally announce together. They let the boy come up, skipping his short interview. "Okay, the girls now..." Hestia begins, reading her slip. "Oceania Seacrest!" I blink, disbelieving. I'd been Victor once. Why would the Capitol make me compete again? Peacekeepers push me out of the crowd, and Hestia claps her hands when she realizes that I am a celebrity. "What a surprise!" She says gleefully. I stand next to Kalmah, who pulls a sinister finger across his throat, miming my death.

District 5 - Gaara Ryûghan
I scowl at the Peacekeepers who stab a needle into me for my blood. I'd kill them all if I got the chance. "Good luck," One of them said. I ignored them, telling them to push off. I shoved my way past the line of kids, getting into the right age group. Romulus takes his spot on stage, talking happily with the Head Peacekeeper, like the two were old friends. Perhaps they were. More children were here this year, due to the new eligible children. They all looked so innocent - just like I used to be. But I'm not like that anymore. I'll happily kill people, and I haven't even been reaped. Yet. I drove all my family, my friends out, just so that I could have the best chances of becoming Victor. It would be worth it for life-long safety within my District, and the Capitol would love me. I'd be a young winner, the everlasting sign of glory and honour for District 5. What could be better than that? Removing people from my life was definitely worth it. "Okay, District 5! We're back for another year of the Hunger Games! I wish you all luck," Romulus begins. I can tell his a nice enough person, but I could easily imagine him being killed in two seconds flat...by me. I've trained in secret for years, preparing myself for the only destiny I could ever want. To win the Hunger Games. "Right, ladies! You first!" He smiles as he picks out a card with a girl's name on it. "Katarina Seacrest!" He calls. A psycho, smiling girl with curly brown hair appears on stage. I've never seen her before, but I can tell that she's completely mental because she's wearing the District asylum uniform. A straightjacket. Romulus' expression clearly shows that he is worried, and looks over his shoulder just to check that the Peacekeepers are there. "So, Katarina, how are you?" He asks, his voice wavering uncomfortably as he gets unnervingly close to the crazy girl. "I'm fine," Katarina smiles, staring into Romulus' eyes like a demon. Our escort smiles weakly, and hurriedly walks away from the female tribute, and to the male's bowl. "And your male tribute will be..." He reads the card happily, expecting no more drama, but I raise my hand and yell. "I VOLUNTEER!" Romulus looks up from the card, and sees me heading up to the stage with a beaming smile. Finally, I would get my chance. "And what's your name, young man?" Romulus asks, handing me the microphone. "Gaara Ryûghan," I answer proudly. I can see Katarina staring at me enviously in her straightjacket. "And why have you volunteered for the Games, Gaara?" Romulus questions curiously. I smile.

"Because the only reason for my existence is to kill."

District 6 - Luna Sunkin
Star and I line up together, and the female Peacekeeper gives us both sympathetic looks. She knows that we are siblings, and the only thing we have left is each other. She wishes us luck, and I thank her from the bottom of my heart. It is rare that we are shown any sign of affection from people, especially Peacekeepers. I hug my brother and let him go to the boy's crowd. I squeeze in between two extremely tall girls, who are supposed to be my age, though I doubt they are. It is unlikely that me and my brother will be reaped, as I only have four slips in the reaping bowl, and Star only has three. We've managed to get by without tesserae, so compared with many other kids, we're less likely to be reaped - but that might just be me being optimistic. Tatiana, our District escort, appears on stage in a beautiful dress. She's always been like that. She's got lovely green eyes, and long blonde hair and always has the nicest clothes on. Tatiana must think us like dirt, because of our itchy brown cotton factory and school uniforms. Nobody in my District can afford much clothes, and it's a luxury to have more than two outfits. "District 6, we're here for another year's Reapings! May the odds be ever in your favor!" She starts, two slips of paper already in her hands. "And the male tribute is Star Sunkin!" My brother emerges from the crowd, and I scream his name, running out to him. The female Peacekeeper that had been so kind to us held me back, but I kicked and hit her, wanting to be released from her grip. I wouldn't let my brother die, after the years we'd spent keeping each other alive. I wasn't going to give up on him now. He was more important to me than my own life. Tatiana begins to get uncomfortable with the chaos, so quickly begins to read out the girl's name. "Lucy-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I scream. The whole crowd looks shocked as the female Peacekeeper lets me go. I sprint up onto the stage and wrap my arms around my little brother. Tatiana 'ahhs' at us like we are cute puppies. Tears are streaming down my face, but I know what I must do to protect my brother. "Are you two siblings?" Tatiana asks softly, bending down to our height. If it weren't for her heels, she would probably be smaller than me anyway. Star nods. "What's your name, pretty?" She asks me.

"Luna. Luna Sunkin. You're not going to split us," I reply protectively.

"Don't worry, you two can stay together..." Tatiana promises. She looks deeply at me, which unnerves me a little. "Your eyes are very blue... like the ocean. Very beautiful," Tatiana comments. I don't know what to make of her compliment, but nod appreciatively. I push my hair behind my ear nervously. "And here we have brother and sister, Star and Luna Sunkin, District 6 tributes for the 121st Hunger Games!"

District 7 - Brandon Ivey
The familiar sight of Peacekeepers and our district escort at the Reapings does not faze me. I’m fifteen, so I’ve been present at the Reapings enough times to understand what’s going on. If I ever got reaped, I’d do it for my family – not for the winnings, not for the fame or fancy home in the Victor’s village. I couldn’t bear to lose my family, and I’m sure they couldn’t bear to lose me. Knowing I’d die and cause them so much grief would only make me feel worse. If I won, I’d be saving my family from that. The wind is cold as the huge open area outside the Hall of Justice, the thick forests of trees creates a disturbing rustling noise that sounds similar to the sharpening of blades. I cast a glance at my shivering Mother in her thin cotton uniform. We are too poor to buy anymore clothes. My sisters would be delighted to get more dresses if I won. I smiled to myself at the thought of my siblings opening a new wardrobe full of wonderful clothes, just for them. I’d have to win for that to happen though. I am snapped out of my thoughtful mind as our escort shouts down the microphone. I think he’s a bit deaf, but he’s better than those annoying twin escorts from District 4. He doesn’t announce the Reapings, and immediately goes to picking out names. He’s a man of few words, you could say.

“Alyssa Mason!” He calls. Everyone turns their heads to face the infamous Alyssa, better known as Lyss. Her aunt was a Victor, and a very intelligent person. If her niece had the same intelligence and logical thinking, she’d be a definite contender for victory. “Brandon Ivey!” It took me a moment to realise that was my name. A sea of faces stared at me, their glares making me want to scream and just disappear. My mother begins to sob as Peacekeepers push me up onto stage. “Here you go, District 7! Your official tributes!” My mother screams my name, asking our escort to pick another name. She runs through the crowds, disappearing in a sea of pale children. Peacekeepers find her quickly, and grab her by the arms, kicking her to the floor.

“Stay down, woman!” The Head Peacekeeper booms, his baton at the ready, despite the fact five other trained soldiers are beside him with guns.

“NO! He’s my son! Please! He’s just an innocent boy!” She cries desperately, holding onto the Peacekeeper’s hands in the hope he will have at least a tiny bit of empathy. He pulls his hand away, leaving my mother to sob on the cold, hard ground.

“The Districts gave up their innocence when they rebelled. Keep quiet, lady!” The Head Peacekeeper replies as my mother gets to her feet. The look on her face shows nothing but anger and revenge. She scratches at his un-shielded face, leaving a line of blood on his cheek. He punches her in the shoulder, knocking her backwards.

The whole District gasps, but nobody retaliates. I can barely breathe with shock. Tears begin to appear on my face, but I wipe them away, not wanting to seem weak to all the other boys. Peacekeepers restrain me too, and take me to the Train where I am to go to the Capitol. As the doors close, I hear a gunshot. District 8 - Rebekah Ure Today is my first reaping. But I’m not scared. The sight of all these thick necks to squeeze makes me kind of happy. Plus, getting reaped for the Games is the only place that I can kill without being thrown in prison for it. Our fat-necked District escort, Ceres Sorcera, appears on stage, dressed in dung-coloured brown jumpsuit that somehow matches my scratchy woollen clothes. I could happily choke her. She looks like a huge mouse, and her voice isn’t too far off the noise that they make, either.

“Hello, District 8!” She says squeakily. I wonder how the older kids can bear listening to her every year. I’d run right up on that stage and strangle that voice of out of her – but Peacekeepers block my path so there’s no hope of that. Plus, the Capitol is watching. I’m not sure they’d support me after killing one of their own citizens. “Let’s begin!” She announces, but she’s not very good at announcing things. She speaks in a mousy whisper all the bloody time. Her shout is like normal speaking level! “And the female is...Rebekah Ure!” She says happily. I shoot out of the crowd before anyone can even turn around to look at me. Ceres smiles at me like I’m a model on a catwalk as I appear beside her on stage. “So, Rebekah, are you excited?” She points the microphone at me like an interviewer.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Excited to kill, if that’s what you mean,” I reply, laughing. Nobody laughs with me. Even Ceres is slightly startled at my reaction. She moves on quickly, getting as much space between me and her as possible. Now I definitely want to choke her.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Yoshi Holiday!” She calls. A blonde-haired boy with a strange green uniform walks up. He is frowning, and seems constantly angry. “Yoshi, are you excited, too?” She asks him the same question.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Same as Rebekah. I just want to kill,” He mutters. Ceres squirms uncomfortably between the both of us. Yoshi and I smile at each other. It seems we both want to choke the life out of Ceres Sorcera. <h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">District 9 - Pharmacy Rivera <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">My servants say goodbye to me as I make my way to the crowds gathering for the Reapings. Everyone stares at me as I walk up to get my blood taken. They probably haven't seen me in about a year and a half. I've been living off my scams for that long, anyway. But I'm rich enough now that nothing seems to be able to touch me. Not even the Hunger Games. But I'm going to volunteer, and get even more money so I can become the richest person in my District, and perhaps control most of it. Now that would be fun. But being rich is boring. You get everything served to you on a silver plate - life's too simple! I prefer to have that rush of running away from thugs and the adrenaline you get when you steal some food to stay alive. Yes, it's a bit dirty and tough, but it's fun! That's why I'm volunteering for the Hunger Games. I'll be living an adventure again. It doesn't sound so bad when you think about it. People are going to think I'm crazy. But I'm not. I just got bored of riches, and I can't exactly donate my money. It's mine - why would I share it with anyone else? The escort appears on stage in a rather crude little black dress. I'm probably richer than she is, and she's from the Capitol!

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Good morning, District 9!! Here we are for another Reaping. May the odds be ever in your favour." She selects a boy's name first. "Matthew Haper!" A red-head comes out of the crowd. I laugh at him. He sticks out like a sore thumb! People don't dare tell me to stop laughing at him, though Matthew casts me an annoyed glance which I just snigger at. When I volunteer, I think I'm going to be the one who kills him. "Ok, now for the girls...." There is a long pause. "Tania-"

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"I volunteer!" I yell. Everybody turns around to face me. Some smile, some frown with confusion, others just stand there shocked. I run up on stage like I'm a Victor already, a beaming smile on my face. My escort kind of smiles, but then her bright face fades as she looks at the crowd. They are all staring at me with anger and shock. Perhaps they feel like I am being selfish, by entering the Games to get more money. I don't care what they think. They can think what they like, because I won't be seeing them ever again.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"And what's your name, dear?" Our escort asks like I'm a child.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Pharmacy Rivera, ''darling." ''I answer back. She smiles weakly, and then turns to the crowd with a clearly fake grin on her face.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"And here we have, Matthew Haper and the volunteered tribute, Pharmacy Rivera! Good luck, both of you!" ===<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">District 10 - Blaine Fitz === <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I call my little sister downstairs. She trots down the stairs in a little floral dress. Our mother knitted it especially for her little girl, though she never saw her daughter in it. She gives me a high-five, as we always do when we meet. Her little fingers only stretch half of my palm. I crouch down to be at her height, and she blinks nervously. I think I intimidate her in my Reaping clothes. I always wear the same – a dark grey top and a black jacket, and black trousers. I’ve always tried to look my best, just in case I get reaped. But this year, I know I will become a tribute. Nobody in District 10 will volunteer. I’ll be the first in decades.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Where you goin’, Bwaine?” She asks worriedly, biting her lip as she realises that I am in Reaping uniform. I grin at the fact she still cannot say my name properly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“I’m going on a little trip, Gabriella,” I lie guiltily. Her expression shows me that she is confused.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Can I come, Bwaine?” She pleads, holding onto my hand. “Pwease?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“No, Gabriella. You must stay here with Pap. This is a big boy’s trip,” I explain to her. She scrunches up her face crossly, a deep frown on her face. I roll my eyes. Now is not the time for a tantrum. Two years ago, she threw a huge tantrum and the Peacekeeper’s came knocking to check that I hadn’t stayed at home to avoid the Reapings. I can’t have that again, or I’ll be on their record as a troublemaker. “Gabriella, I think I hear your dolls calling!” I suggest, mock gasping. She forgets my ‘trip’ and runs upstairs to see if her dolls really are calling her. I am going to miss her little red cheeks, and her innocent comments that would be ignorant and stupid from anyone but her. I never really have proper conversations with her, and the only people I really talk to are my friends.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I dash out of the house before my little sister can chase after me. I know that I might not see her again, but I will do whatever it takes to keep her and Pap alive, even if it means scarring myself for life in the Hunger Games. I’ve already lost my mother, and I refuse to let anyone else in my family die of something I can prevent. I run to the Hall of Justice, and I realise I am among very few late stragglers. The Peacekeepers practically stab the blood sampler into me, and give me a good lecture about time. Some recognise me as the boy that was late two years ago. I can see them warning the Head Peacekeeper about me. I take my place in line, ignoring them. My friends spot me, and smile weakly. I’ve told them what I’m going to do, but they won’t stop me. They know I have to do this, for my family.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">The Mayor of District 10 gives us the same boring lecture about the Capitol, and the video alongside the anthem is played. At the end, an image of last year’s escort appears, and he announces that the old woman has passed away, at long last. She annoyed me so much, with her whiny voice and sagging, wrinkled face that has been infused with about a hundred doses of Botox. The Mayor introduces our replacement escort, Aster Clelia, the infamous daughter of President Rome. I’m not surprised she’s a replacement. She’s known to be the daddy’s girl of the Capitol. She’s the only person the President is remotely kind to.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Hello, everybody. Thank you for such a wonderful speech, Mayor! Come on everybody, let’s show him some appreciation!” She claps her hands in appreciation, but nobody joins her. She has a lot to learn about the relationship of the Capitol and District 10. Everybody hates the Capitol, and supporters are practically shunned. She blushes sheepishly and begins to select a tribute’s name. I’m not sure if she’s picking out the boy or the girl – but she’s new to this so I don’t mind. “Alexandria Maydon!” There is a long pause. Nobody emerges from the crowd, and Peacekeepers all around the square are given images of the girl. It seems she has chosen to run from the Reapings. Though everyone knows that running is impossible, especially here. Electric, thick-wired fences run all the way around the District, and there are slim chances of getting out without being fried by the voltage.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Where is Miss Maydon?” Aster asks stupidly. The Mayor whispers something in her ear, and she nods. “Okay, everybody, while Miss Maydon is found, I will call the second tribute.” She reaches her hand into the reaping bowl, and studies the paper in her fingers carefully. “Keld Orford!” She calls. My friends glare at me, though I am just waiting for the right moment. As everybody turns to face the unfortunate 12-year-old, I shout our escort’s name.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“I volunteer!” I yell. Aster looks at me in surprise, but welcomes me onto the stage. Little Keld gives me a nod of thanks, though I’m not doing this for him.

And what’s your name, young man?” Aster asks me, her thick Capitol accent showing through. I struggle to make out her words with the accent, but I manage to guess what she might be saying.

"Blaine Fitz,” I reply. Suddenly, a scream comes from behind the crowd. A fifty-strong troop of white-uniformed Peacekeepers arrive, bringing a girl in handcuffs up to stage. Our escort goes pale. Maybe she thinks that the girl she has picked out is a criminal. But she’s not. Alexandria is just rebellious, that’s all.

Get off me, idiots! I can walk up by myself!” Alexandria shouts at them. They back away, but are in constant grabbing distance. Aster shuffles closer to my side of the stage, avoiding the black-haired, black-clothed Alexandria. We look like twins, with me in my black Reaping clothes. But it’ll create an impact for the Capitol, like the whole thing was planned. I smile to myself as Aster announces us as the official tributes, and thanks everyone for being such a wonderful audience.

District 11 - Aislyn Latona
It hurts me to part with my three remaining siblings, and my grandmother gives me a shaky hug from the crowd barriers. I have my blood taken and form my part of the line of other girls my age. I see Dedrik, my 19-year-old brother holding our grandmother’s hand for comfort. His Reapings are over. He doesn’t have to worry about being a tribute any longer, though Liana and Crist are too young to enter. But their time will come soon, and it will shock them. But I will comfort them, and make sure they are kept safe. Dedrik has refused to let us take out tesserae, to keep us all safe. I hate parting from them at the Reapings. I’m the only person who’s actually eligible for the Hunger Games, so it scares me that I will not get to say goodbye to them.

Our funky-looking District escort appears on stage. He always wears some kind of tie-dye, and this year is no different. A rainbow coloured scarf hangs around his neck, and he has been dressed in a rather vibrant purple suit. The Capitol fashion is queer!

Hello District Eleven!” Everyone cheers. He’s a nice man, our escort. We may dislike the Hunger Games, but he has always tried his hardest to keep our tributes alive, and is often the reason for our tributes surviving the Bloodbath. “Welcome to another Hunger Games! I wish you all luck for this year, and may the odds be ever in your favour.” He draws a slip from the boy’s bowl. “Rubin Jett!” A normally skinny, brown-haired boy steps up on stage. He looks like one of those people who is quiet, but frightfully hard-working. He could definitely be competition. “Rubin, I wish you luck. Have you got family supporting you?”

"No,” He replies. “My brother was killed in the Hunger Games.” Our escort looks sympathetically at Rubin, and I feel sad for him. I know what it is like to lose a sibling, and the pain that it causes between families.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Well, Rubin, I wish you lots of luck. Now let’s see who will be joining you this year.” The escort picks out a second name. “Aislyn Latona!” I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest, and I can see my siblings start to sob. None of them can save me. Rubin looks me over. I am sure he is wondering if I am a threat to him or not, but I could never kill my district partner. He’s the closest thing I’ve got to home now.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“So, Aislyn, have you got any family supporters?” Our escort asks carefully. I nod.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“My brothers and my sister, and my grandmother.” Our escort smiles thankfully - at least he hasn't made the same mistake with me. Family is a very touchy subjects for many people in the Districts.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“And here we have, Rubin Jett and Aislyn Latona, District 11 tributes for the 121st Hunger Games!” <h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">District 12 - Amy Clarke <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I hurry to the Hall of Justice. I was going to be early, but in District 12 it doesn't really matter whether you're on time or not. The Peacekeepers here are so incompetent that girls like me are hired to keep everyone in order, but secretly. The familiar face of my top-boss, the President Rome, is on screen. The escort gives me a funny look, like she recognises me, though I doubt that very much. I used to come from District 1, and the escort there is much more famous than the freakish woman here. The other hundreds of kids arrive, and I am put in a special area that is close to the stage, for the most presitgious children in the District. Alongside me is the Mayor's children, a few high-placed Merchant children and a second member of the team that I work with - the only other eligible people from my 'organisation' if you could call it that.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I've been bored with my team for months now, though I don't think I could go back to proper missions. All I've been doing is interrogations of suspected criminials. I've been doing them too long to get the same adrenaline rush that I used to get with proper tasks, but I will do as the President tells me, for that is the job of the Districts: to serve and to obey. I am half-daydreaming about going back into action as our escort taps the microphone. It screams in the speakers, and everyone winces, though I keep my stock-still position, not showing any weaknesses before I volunteer for the Hunger Games. That's one thing the President cannot tell me to do. It's the only option I have, to make my life more interesting. And he won't help me get back to missions, so maybe if I become Victor he will see that he cannot control me any longer.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Welcome, everybody. Please wait quietly while your wonderful Mayor gives us the speech," our escort, Rosa Florie begins. She steps back from the cameras as Mayor begins the familiar speech that he gives every year. I have heard it told many a time at home in District 1, but the Mayor here says it with sadness, and with emotion lacking in his tone. It seems District 12 is definitely not a supporter of the Capitol, as my District has been for over a century. "Thank you, Mayor, for that wonderful story." Rosa claps modestly, not expecting anyone to clap with her. She finishes quickly, and picks out a slip.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Boys first, this year!" She explains, scanning the paper. "Trent Greer." I turn my head to an unfamiliar boy in the crowd. He his smiling, slightly laughing but drops his smiling face when Rosa looks at him in disgust. He isn't bad looking, though his poor rags of clothes are somewhat different to the fashions of the Capitol. "Hello, Trent!" He grins back, and I think Rosa is surprised to see such a cheery face at the Reapings, when most kids here are practically breaking down, trying to keep tears streaming from their face. "Well, it's nice to see a happy face," Rosa admits.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"It's nice to see you too!" Trent replies. I cannot decide whether he is being sarcastic or not. I will have to analyze him in training - his big build and broad shoulders show all the signs of a fighter.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Okay, girls! It's your turn!" Rosa continues, a beaming smile on her face. Trent has brought happiness to the saddest days of the year. "Alexis Jocasta!" The crowd moves to make way for the young girl, but before she can reach the stage I scream out 'I volunteer!'. For the second time today, Rosa has the look of shock but glee on her face. It's been forever since anyone volunteered in the Hunger Games. The last person do volunteer was Katniss Everdeen, in the 74th Hunger Games. Her little sister was traumatised at her death, but I laughed because District 1's Cato became Victor instead. Katniss was just another girl sent for slaughter. But I won't be. I run up on stage, a confident walk in my pace.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Well, what's your name?"

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Amy Clarke," I answer shortly. Rosa tilts her head, expecting more of an answer. But I am a girl of few words, so I shall keep to that motto. The fewest words can say the most, but give away the least about a person. Perhaps tributes will find me more of someone to be scared of if they do not know my strengths, my weaknesses, or my character. It will make it so much easier to frighten and surprise people away from making any attempts at attacking me.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"District Twelve, please give a round of applause for Trent Greer and Amy Clarke." A few monotone claps sound, but it comes from the Mayor and his family. Nobody else responds. "Come on District 12, show some respect for your volunteer and tribute!" Rosa urges desperately. People look up at her. The whole crowd puts their fingers to their lips, and raises them in the scarcely seen three fingered gesture. A rush of adrenaline surges through me. Rosa falls silent, and Trent stands still, knowing the gesture is not for him. I return the gesture, with a meek nod of my head. Maybe I underestimated the kindness of the District. I'd always thought my home District so much better, but now I see that the people here are some of the most honourable, selfless and respectful people in all of Panem.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">District 13 - Crimson Typhoon
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I run through the corridor of many apartments. The halls all seem the same in District 13, except from the 'road' numbers at the end of each corridor. I can't believe I still live in the dated underground bunkers that once held many soldiers and nuclear weapons - but the rooms are now like cells for the people to work in.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I'm frightfully late to the Reapings, and the Peacekeepers are already on my case. If I don't volunteer in time, I won't get to save Connor. I won't save the only friend I've ever had. But I will save him, even if it means fighting to the death in the Hunger Games. I don't care whether I die or not, I just need to save him. He's the person who helped me become strong, and forget about wanting to commit suicide. My District threw me out after I was supposed of having 'magic' in me, only welcoming me back when I could get picked for slaughter in the Hunger Games. Connor's the only person who ever really believed in me. It might sound all soft and pathetic, but wouldn't you feel the same duty to save your friend?

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Boy! What are you doing!" A Peackeeper yells at me. I stop like a rabbit in the headlights. "You're late. Don't let me catch you late again, lad. You'll be in cuffs before you can say 'i volunteer'." Some Peacekeepers are light on the District 13 people on Reaping days, but others are painfully strict and practically lock us in our houses, for fear that we will commit some kind of mass crime. Our Mayor has already given the speech and shown the promo video, and the escort is about to read out the girl's name.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Shyvana..." The escort pauses. I'm not sure he's the smartest of people, when he's unable to read out a surname. "Feuer?" He guesses. A red-head girl emerges from the multi-coloured haired crowd. District 13 is much more eccentric than many others, if you hadn't guessed. The girl is dressed in a simple black tie-top that goes across her shoulder, and our escort nods at her surprising fashion sense. Reaping day is the only day that us kids get to put on normal clothes, and not just the horrific grey bulgy uniforms that we are forced to work and 'play' in, though in my case, I never spend much time playing. Shyvana steps up onto the stage.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Well, Shyvana, what do you have to say to your District and the audience?" She nods. She is handed the microphone with a rebellious glare in her eye.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"District 13 and the Capitol! I am doing this, not of my own asking, but of the Capitol's bloodthirsty request. You don't know what the Capitol is doing and has done to District 13. Have you not noticed the changes? Once, we were stronger than the Capitol itself. What happened to us? Nobody suddenly becomes weak - for years we lived in peace, without the tyrannical reign of President Rome. Why have you all given up? We were once so powerful. What happened to our glorious city of hope? We could have been the spark of the fire that all the Districts haave been waiting for. The Capitol has hurt so many of us - both in the Hunger Games and wars we didn't wish to fight. They killed my father. Listen to me, and realise that none of us are weak - we have just stopped trying. Begin a rebelli-" Peacekeepers rushed on stage and punched Shyvana on the cheek, instantly knocking her out. Obviously they were done with this outspoken girl, even though her speech would be edited out from the Reaping videos. I know who Shyvana is. She's the orphaned daughter of a high-placed soldier, a man who was killed in a war. It was no wonder she was trying to raise the Districts against the Capitol. I couldn't live with them killing my close family members. That's why I must volunteer for Connor. To save him. She didn't get a chance to save her close ones, so it makes me the more eager to take advantage of the oppurtunity I have been given, whether or not it shall be a successfull risk to take.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Let's continue. Boys now," Our escort adds hastily. A slip is selected, and he takes time reading it. "Brahmos-"

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"I VOLUNTEER!" I yell with highest volume I can reach. Our escort welcomes me on stage and a 12-year-old heaves a sigh of relief as he realises I have taken his place. I nod at him, and he smiles weakly at me. In some ways, he reminds me of Connor. But I will probably never see Connor again. The last time I saw him was when he was captured, and I was told I must volunteer for the Games or he would be killed immediately after the boys' name was called out.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Well, what's your name young man? You are brave to volunteer," Our escort states, handing me the microphone hesitantly. He often does interviews, but I'd be sceptical of handing me the mic after Shyvana's outbreak of rebelliousness.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Crimson Typhoon."

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"That's a very interesting name. Well, Crimson, have you got anything to say to the District 13 crowd?" I nod my head, not quite sure what I'm doing. I take the microphone in my hand, shaking.

Shyvana's right. We could be so much more than an oppressed city. I'm risking my life to save the life of my friend. They are oppressing me right now, and I can't do anything about it. But you can." Peacekeepers take my arms and take me to the train, not brutally beating me, but with batons poking into my sides just in case I decide to break out like my fellow District partner had. But she was right, and I totally agreed with her. Maybe if i won, I could organise a rebellion, within the secrecy of my Victor's village home.

Aislyn Latona D8
Sixty seconds. I've only got sixty seconds to scan the area. All I can see is a huge lagoon around the tribute platforms. Sixty. At the centre of the platforms is a tiny island holding the huge Cornucopia. It's a very strange shape this year. It's a huge glass structure with one entrance that is also the only exit. Fifty seconds left. There are steps that stretch around it that hang precariously on the side, leading up to a roof-garden if you could call it that. Forty seconds left. I assume that there will be valuable and the most useful supplies on the roof-garden, though the trees growing on it hide the precious items. Thirty seconds left. My heart starts racing, and I can see other tributes readying themselves for the first day of the Hunger Games. Twenty seconds left. I spot a bow hanging from a branch on the roof garden, though it is too close to the steps. It's too dangerous. I'd be dead in five minutes up there. Ten seconds left. At the centre of the Cornucopia are a whole pile of small knives, backpacks and survival supplies. It seems all the weapons are on the roof. Nine seconds left. I wonder how I am going to swim to the small island, but I decide that I will grab anything dead tributes' will leave with their corpses. Nine seconds left. To both sides of me are Careers. I better keep out of their way. But how am I even going to reach the island? My swimming is awful. Eight seconds left. My heart is beating at an alarming rate, and I have to breathe slowly to calm myself. It seems the seconds keep ticking past. The gong sounds. There are a few shouts of surprise, and I dive into the water. The cold shock of the icy waves made my body stun for a second. I open my eyes, but unbearable salt water gets into them and I just have to swim forwards, in the hope I will not collide with another tribute. My lungs contract too quickly, and I cannot hold my breath longer than ten seconds. I rise up, and take a huge breath. Some tributes are struggling in the cold water, as I am. A few have already made it to the island, and have grabbed weapons. Clearly they're Careers. I dive back under, and just hope I'll survive.

Suddenly, a spear sails through the water beside me. Part of the blade catches my ankle, and I scream, but revolting water fills my mouth. I grab the weapon, and go back up to the surface. I cough up water and salt and I could almost puke. Odin Amarth is standing by the shore with evil eyes. I take one look at him and swim away. I know I am weak but I've no other choice. I see a small range of mountains in the far distance. It'll be about a 1800 metre swim, but I can make it. I will make it.