User blog:Cloveismywife/225th Hunger Games - Dual Arenas

Cloveismywife (talk) 00:01, August 22, 2012 (UTC)

As you all know, I have been writing a series of games, beginning with the 198th Hunger Games and ending with the 201st Hunger Games.

I am still writing the 201st, but I want to start signups for this one. I hope you join! It is a quell and I am trying out a new tribute selection method.

I will be getting really in-depth for these games. I'll write reapings, group training, individual training, interviews, and the Games.

Introduction
Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen's great-great grandson has become the President of Panem. He restarted the Hunger Games, including District 13 and the Capitol.

Quell Twist
To show how the rebels divided the nation of Panem, the tributes will be divided into two separate arenas, without regards to age, gender, or district. Since the arena number will be doubled, the tribute number will be doubled also. Each district must send two males and two females between the ages of 12 and 18.

Rules
1. You have from today (August 21) until August 28 to submit tributes. You may submit as many tributes as you want, but I will take a maximum of four per user.

2. I will not be putting any tributes in the table until August 28. It does not matter if you submit your tribute first or last. I will be handpicking the tributes based on the ones submitted over the one week period. Make them interesting or they won't get picked.

3. If there are still spots open after the tribute draft on the 28th, then it is first come, first serve for the remaining spots.

4. Tribute template:

Name:

Districts: (List three, in order of preference)

Gender:

Age:

Personality:

Backstory:

Height:

Appearance: (If you make a lunaii, I will use it, but I have to reformat it so all the pictures are the same size. Sorry, I'm OCD about that stuff) (Also, if you submit a picture that isn't a lunaii, I will make a lunaii out of that picture) (You can just give a description and I will make the lunaii)

Weapon: (List 1 or 2)

Strengths: (besides weapon) (List 2)

Weaknesses: (List 2)

Fears: (List 1)

Interview Angle:

Bloodbath Strategy:

Token:

Alliance: (can be filled out later)

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">5. Brand new tributes will most likely get drafted. Tributes that have already been in my games won't. Also, people who say "on my profile" won't get drafted. You have one week to make this tributes, and it doesn't matter if someone else submits a tribute before you, because you will get the spot if your's is better.

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Example:

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Wikia Contributor A submits this first:

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">jeanne lady

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">district 1

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">good at all weapons

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">pretty

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">training score 11

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Just because someone else submits a tribute, doesn't mean you should either. As long as you put time and creativity into your tribute, they be drafted.

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">6. I may be using some adult language so be aware of that. There may be some sexual references as well.

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">7. Do not get mad at me if/when your tribute dies or if they don't get drafted.

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">8. Everyone who submitted a tribute has $500 in sponsor money. Users who submitted more than one tribute have $500 to spend for each tribute.

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">9. If you are reading this right now, you have to submit a tribute.

Careers
Copper Overdeen (1), Flash Skylar (1), Amber Agate (1), Ezrah Sherd (2), Jacob Latinee (2), Hex Servirior (2), Sami Freemont (2), Jason Clearwater (4), Antonia Clay (4), Torianno Falsetto (C) [pending], Jonah Thompson (8) [pending], Kevin Quince (10) [pending], Amara Airess (11) [pending]

District 7 and 9 Alliance
Camellia Cyrellia (7), Rowanne Tamela (9)

District 7, 9, and 13 Alliance
Liza Kay (7), Dack Lorio (9), Norman Bolt (13)

Capitol, District 3, and 13 Alliance
Fabio Batone (C), Maysilee Cresent (C), Alyss Shepherd (3), Hailey Bolt (13)

District 4, 5, 10, 11, and 12 Alliance
Trever Tewie (4), Emily Lunamoon (4), Martin Meyers (5), Madeleine Levenhire (10), Michelle Rhode (11), Nick Lovizio (12), Laea Rail (12)

District 6 and 8 Alliance
Kate McAllister (6), Isabel Davids (8)

District 7, 10, 11, and 13 Alliance
Kirk Frelt (7), Lance Thrust (10), Garret Houldy (11), Battleaxe Mason (13), Lira Roberts (13)

District 3 Alliance
Watt Powers (3), Raden Harvestmoon (3)

District 6 and 11 Alliance
Drake Johnson (6), Hoe Ritchie (11)

District 5 and 6 Alliance
Bloom Winterlake (5), Yuna Besaid (6)

Capitol and District 5 Alliance
Aliza Marr (C), Jamie Carpenter (5)

Loners
Dagger Kaylen (1), Xavier Woods (6), Lucas Rayden (9), Sian Malley (12), Jane Skye (12)

Items
<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:0.4em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:0.5em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Awl: $100

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Axe: $150

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Blanket: $50

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Blowgun: $100

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Bow: $150

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Bread: $50

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Burn Cream: $125

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Canteen: $100

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Camouflage Paints: $100

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Dagger: $100

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Darts (12): $25

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Dried Meat: $75

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Dried Fruit: $50

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Instant Relief (heals any wound immediately): $400

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Knife: $75

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Mace: $125

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Matches: $75

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Neosporin (to prevent infection in open wounds): $150

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Net: $125

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Night-Vision Glasses (allows your tribute to move at night): $150

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Paddles: $50

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Painkiller: $75

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Parka (large coat for extreme warmth): $150

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Poison: $75

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Portable Fan (cools tribute down): $150

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Quiver of Arrows (12): $25

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Raft: $250

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Rocks (10) [usually for slingshot]: $25

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Rope: $25

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Sleeping Bag: $75

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Slingshot: $125

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Snowshoes: $100

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Soup: $75

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Spear: $125

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Spile: $75

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Sword: $125

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Throwing Axes (3): $200

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Throwing Knives (3): $200

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Trident: $275

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Water: $100

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Wire: $75

<p style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Wooden Club: $125

<h2 style="border-bottom-width:0px;border-left-width:0px;font-style:inherit;font-weight:inherit;margin-top:1em;margin-right:0px;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-right:0px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-left:0px;vertical-align:baseline;">Reapings

Capitol - Aliza Marr
"Aliza! Wake up!" Alice's mom calls from the kitchen. I open my eyes and yawn.

"Coming!" I yell back. I roll out of bed and look at the three pictures on my nightstand. They are of the only three people I truly care about; my mother, my father, and my best friend Alice. And all of them are dead. My mother had a heart attack a few years ago, and my father committed suicide afterwards. My father's death hit me hard. It made me feel inadequate, because why would he commit suicide if he had a great daughter like me? The answer? I wasn't a great daughter. I lived with Alice after my parents passed away. Her family took me in like one of their own. Then, just last year in the Games, Alice was reaped and killed in the bloodbath. Alice's death was even worse than my father's. She was just another tribute that no one really cared about because she was weak. She was just a pawn in the President's game. I'm not going to be a pawn, though. After taking a shower, I walk into the kitchen of Alice's family's house. I still live with them because I have nowhere else to go, and they enjoy having me around because I remind them of Alice.

"Today's reaping day," says Alice's brother Bruce. I nod as I drink my milk.

"I think I'm going to volunteer," I announce after I swallow. Alice's mom drops the pots and pans in her hand and runs over to me.

"Aliza, please, don't do this. We just lost Alice last year. We can't lose you!" she cries. I feel terrible, but my mind is already made up.

"I've been training and studying for the Games. I know what I'm doing. I'm going to avenge Alice," I say to her. She looks in my eyes and I can see the pain this woman has gone through. She stands up and puts her hands on her hips.

"Well, if you're going to volunteer, then I guess we have to make you look good for sponsors!" she says with a fake happiness. I grin and she takes me into her bedroom and puts all kinds of makeup on me and does stuff to my hair. "Wait one second," Alice's mom says to me. She leaves the bedroom and walks into Alice's room. Then she comes back with a beautiful dress. "This was the dress for Alice's sweet sixteen party," she says with tear-filled eyes, "She never got to wear it, but I know she would want you to."

"I can't," I begin to say, but then I stop myself. This woman is offering me her dead daughter's dresss. How can I say no? "Thank you, it's beautiful," I say. She smiles and gives it to me.

After getting dressed and dolled up, I drive to the reaping area with Alice's mom, dad, and Bruce. We get out of the car and Bruce and I walk over to the lady with the zapper.

"Finger," she says to me. I hold out my finger and she zaps it, placing the blood on a piece of paper and then using some gadget to determine it's me. "Next."

I walk to the girl's section just as the escort arrives. She is brand new this year, since the President has decided that escorts will change at every quell. This woman has pale green skin and high, upturned cheeks that make it look like she's always smiling.

"Welcome, welcome," she says into the microphone, "to the Capitol reaping for the 225th Annual Hunger Games!" The crowd utters a small cheer and she smiles even more. "Our most recent winner from the 201st Games, Amity Olivander, is here as well." Amity stands up and the crowd cheers. She looks angry or upset; I can't tell the difference. "Now, you all know the quell rules, so I won't bore you with that. Let's get to the reaping, shall we?" asks the woman, who still hasn't said her name. She walks over to the girl's bowl and stuffs her hand inside. She moves it around and pulls out a piece of paper. I glance at Alice's mom, who is staring at me with a slight smile on her face.

"I volunteer!" I yell.

"It looks like we have a volunteer. Come on up, dear," she says. I walk confidently up to the stage. "Now, tell us your name."

"Aliza Marr," I say into the microphone.

"Congratulations, Aliza. Let's see who your fellow tributes will be," the escort says. She puts her hand into the girl's bowl once more and pulls out a name. She unfolds the paper. "Maysilee Cresent!" she yells. A girl with brown and pink hair walks slowly up to the stage, like she's in a daze. She stands next to me without saying a word. "Now for the boys!" the escort announces. She moves over to the boy's bowl and puts her hand inside. She moves it around and picks a name. "Bruce Miller!" she shouts. Oh no, that's Alice's brother. I can't kill him in the arena.

"I volunteer!" shouts a male voice from the crowd. Phew. A boy with green and blue hair and pink skin struts up to the stage. "My name's Torianno Falsetto," he says into the mic. Then he comes over to Maysilee and me and high-fives us.

The escort puts her hand in the boy's bowl again and before she can read the name, another boy shouts, "I volunteer!"

"Wow, three volunteers this year," says the escort as the volunteer is walking up. "Tell us your name."

"Fabio Batone," the boy says into the mic.

"The four Capitol tributes for this year are Aliza Marr, Maysilee Cresent, Torianno Falsetto, and Fabio Batone. Let's give them one more round of applause," she says as we walk to the limousine that will take us to the training center. The noise of the crowd disappears once Amity closes the limousine door.

"Hi, I'm Amity. I'll be helping you guys out throughout training," she says.

"And I'm Delilah," says the escort, "I'll be around to help too!" I stare out the window as Delilah goes on and on about training, thinking about what I just got myself into.

District 1 - Dagger Kaylen
"We're closing early today for reapings!" my mother yells to my father and me.

"Ok, dear," my father replies, "Let's get this thing closed up, Dagger." My family has been running this meat stand for years. Kaylen Meat has become very popular throughout District 1. It's because our meat is clean, cheap, and tastes amazing. My dad begins taking the meat from the stand and putting it into our portable freezer to take into our house. I begin to count the money and break down the stand, putting the legs of the tables in a certain area and breaking down the gazebo that keeps the sun from spoiling our meat. As I work, I look down at my strong biceps, which are much larger than a normal girl's. Keeping fit is one of my top priorities, and working with meat all day not only keeps my arms strong, but helps me with my knife skills. My family is not as rich as most of the other District 1 families, but we get by. I do not train as often as the other kids, but the meat stand helps make up for that.

After breaking down the stand and wheeling it to our house, I hop into the shower to start getting ready for reaping day in three hours. After getting out of the shower, I get dressed in my favorite dress that used to belong to my mother. Then I dry and straighten my hair.

"Come on, Dagger. We have to get ready too," says my father as he bangs against the bathroom door.

"I just need to put makeup on!" I reply, taking out my makeup kit.

"You look good without makeup," he says. I laugh, but still put on the makeup anyway. Even if I looked good without makeup, I look better with it. After completing my makeup, I open the door and my father is standing there impatiently. "Finally," he says, pushing past me into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he comes out fully dressed and clean. Men have it so easy.

"Let's go!" calls my mother from the front door, "We're running late." My mom is the boss, and it's her undesignated job to keep my father and me on time. We walk together to the car and my father gets in the driver's seat.

"So, are you volunteering?" my mother asks me. I don't know if she's serious or not, so I just laugh and look out the window awkwardly. We finally arrive at the reaping area and I walk over to the zapper lady and get my blood taken. Then I go stand among the other girls in District 1.

"You look great, Dagger!" one of the girls from my school says to me.

"Thanks, you too!" I respond. She smiles, and then our little chat is interrupted by the sound of the escort's voice.

"Hello, District 1 and welcome to the reaping for the 225th Annual Hunger Games!" she announces confidently. The crowd erupts into a sea of cheers and the new escort has trouble calming them down. Her ruby red lips turn into a frown and her violet eyes are narrowing. She is wearing a turquoise, tight-fitting dress that shows off her hourglass figure.

"Ahem!" she says into the mic repeatedly until the audience quiets, "My name is Rosetta Kitt and I will be your escort from now until the next quell, hopefully. I am very excited to have District 1, and I know we have the potential for a winner this year, just like Summer Ashton from the 200th Hunger Games!" she says. Summer then comes out from behind the curtain and the crowd goes crazy. She smiles slightly and waves at the crowd before they finally settle down again. "Let's reap some tributes, shall we?" asks Rosetta. She walks over to the girl's bowl and pulls out a name.

"I volunteer!" screams out a loud female voice.

"Come on up, dear," Rosetta says, "What's your name?"

"Amber Agate," the girl says into the microphone. She has blonde hair and is pretty attractive.

"Well, congratulations Amber. I wish you luck in the Games. Now for the next female tribute!" says Rosetta excitedly. She puts her hand in the bowl and pulls out a name. I'm surprised no one has volunteered yet. "Dagger Kaylen!" she yells. I walk slowly up to the stage, staring at the group of girls on either side of me, hoping for a volunteer. None come forward. I stand next to Amber as Rosetta puts her hand in the boy's bowl. I know I have the skills to do well in the Games, but I just wish I could go back to my normal life tomorrow, working at the meat stand with my parents and going out with my friends. Now I may never have that chance again. Rosetta then pulls out a slip from the bowl.

A sing-song of "I volunteer!"'s comes out from the crowd.

"Wow, the boys are so eager this year!" she remarks, "Let's go with you and you." The two boys Rosetta pointed at walk up to the stage together, patting each other on the back. "Please tell us your names, boys," commands Rosetta.

"I'm Copper Overdeen," says the meaner looking one.

"And I'm Flash Skylar," says the other one.

"Give one more round of applause for your four tributes, Amber Agate, Dagger Kaylen, Copper Overdeen, and Flash Skylar!" Rosetta urges into the microphone.

The crowd cheers and begins chanting, "Dis-trict 1 Dis-trict 1" as we walk towards the train. We get on and the door closes behind us. I wish they still gave us time to say goodbye to our loved ones before we leave, but that rule was abolished when the Games were revived. Amber is already flirting with Flash and Copper seems to be scoping us out, trying to tell if we are good enough for him. I sit next to Summer and think about all the questions I have to ask her.

District 2 - Jacob Latinee
"Wake up you ungrateful brat!" screams my mother. She is so sweet to me. My mother has always hated me. Why? I have no idea, but it got worse since my father's death. My father was an alcoholic, always drunk and rambling, usually taking out his anger on my mother, my sister, and mostly me. Then, my mother would get angry because my father was always drunk and take it out on my sister and me. It was a neverending cycle that made me want to rip my hair out. Then, one day, my father died in a drunk driving accident. I know this sounds bad, but I was kind of happy when he died. I thought it would solve our family's problems. No more late night beatings by my father, no more drunken ramblings, and no more of the things that made my mother mad. But no, my mother is still a witch. She rarely, if ever feeds my sister Shelby and me, and she treats us like dirt. I actually envy the way she treats dirt. Shelby and I are constantly slipping out of the house and stealing whatever food we can find.

"Coming!" I holler back. I quickly get dressed and comb my hair. Shelby walks into my room.

"Jacob, today's reaping day. I'm scared," she says.

"Don't be, Shelby. You know there are always volunteers. You won't get reaped," I assure her. Shelby hates fighting and refuses to train for the Games like the rest of District 2. For me, training is an escape. There is nothing better than walking into the academy and completely owning the other kids with all kinds of weapons. Plus, any time spent away from the hellhole called my house is a bonus. "Speaking of the reaping, Shelby, I think I'm going to volunteer today," I tell her. Last night, I didn't sleep. All I did was think about whether or not I should volunteer. At first, I thought I would feel guilty leaving my sister alone with my mom, but my mom doesn't treat Shelby as poorly as she treats me. And if I win, I can take Shelby to the Victor's Village with me and give her the life she deserves. I just can't take living with my mother anymore.

"Jacob, you can't go!" she cries, burying her head into my shoulder.

"Shelby, look at me," I say, putting my hands on her shoulders, "I'm going to win this thing so we can have a better life. I'm doing this for us, not just me. If I die, then you are going to run away. Got it?" She nods.

"What did you just say?" hisses my mother's scratchy, hoarse voice.

"Nothing," I reply.

"Did I hear something about running away?" she persists.

"No," I say quickly

"I thought so," she says sternly. She slaps me across the face and shouts, "I'll be in the car. No breakfast for you two this morning. We're going to the reaping. Now." I instinctively reach out and touch my stinging face.

"Are you okay?" asks Shelby. I nod and walk with her to my mother's car. We get in and close the door. My mother lectures us the whole time about how we are so ungrateful and how lucky we are to live in District 2. Finally, we reach the reaping area. Shelby and I literally run out of the car over to the zapper lady. I'd rather get my blood zapped out of me than listen to my mother's rants. After getting our blood taken, I hug Shelby for what may be the last time.

"I love you, Shelby," I say to her.

"I love you too," she says, releasing from my grip. We go into our respective sections just as the escort walks onstage. She is wearing a ruby red dress with ruffles all around it, and her skin is lavender. She has dark blue eyes and a sinister smile.

"Welcome to the reaping for the 225th Annual Hunger Games, District 2! My name is Iris Stone and I am your new escort. As you know, the quell rule states that two males and two females must be reaped, and then the tributes will be randomly distributed into two different arenas. Let's find out who our tributes are!" Iris says excitedly. The crowd begins to cheer and she walks over to the girl's bowl. She picks out a name and unfolds the paper.

"I volunteer!" screams a whole bunch of female voices.

"Ummm, you two!" Iris says, pointing to two girls. The volunteers walk up to the stage, looking at each other icily. One of them is a brunette, and the other is a blonde. They are pretty attractive. "Tell us your names."

"Hex Servirior," says the brunette.

"Sami Freemont," says the blonde.

"Congratulations, girls!" says Iris, "Let's see who your male counterparts will be!" Iris walks over to the boy's bowl and my heart begins to race. I know there will be more than two volunteers. I just keep praying that Iris picks me. As she unfolds the piece of paper, I, along with about fifty others, shout, "I volunteer!" Iris surveys the crowd and points to some boy in the back, and then she makes eye contact with me. I grin and she smiles back, pointing at me. I walk confidently up to the stage with my fellow male tribute and stand next to Iris. She hols the microphone to my mouth.

"I'm Jacob Latinee," I say.

"And my name is Ezrah Sherd," says the other guy.

"Congratulations, tributes. Now we have a schedule to follow, so let's go on that train to the Capitol!" Iris whispers to us. As we walk towards the train, the crowd is cheering us on, giving us all the support we need to win the Games. I can't wait to get my chance.

District 3 - Raden Harvestmoon
"Reaping day," my mother calls. I cringe and punch my pillow. Hard. Reaping day is the equivalent of doomsday for our family. In the past five years, the five oldest kids in our family were reaped and killed in the Games. First was Jessantha, then Crane, then Kole, then Charlie, and last year was Newle. Newle was the closest to me, and when she died, I knew I was volunteering this year to avenge her. I get dressed in my nicest clothes and walk out into the kitchen, where my mother is placing breakfast on the table for my four remaining siblings and me. "Raden, please tell me you aren't volunteering today," my mother says.

"Sorry, mom. I am," I respond, not even looking up at her. I hear my mother start sniffling, which then turns into sobbing. This makes me more angry. "Mom, get a hold of yourself!" I shout louder than I mean to. She looks at me helplessly and wipes her eyes.

"I'm sorry Raden. I've lost five kids to these Games and I don't want to lose a sixth. I can't lose a sixth. Jessantha helped run the family when your father broke down, and she died. Then four more died. You are the only one besides me who can work. And God only knows where your father is. I need you, Raden. Please," she begs. I look at my four little siblings sitting around the table, watching my mother and me quarrel. Two of them are of reaping age, and the other two are close to it. This decision is killing me right now.

If I go into the Games, I think I'll be able to win. I have the smarts and skills to be a victor. I've been training since Newle died. Then I will not only avenge my siblings' deaths, but I will provide a better life for my family.

On the other hand, if I don't volunteer, I will be sure to stay alive until the next reaping day, I can work, and I can help my mother take care of the family.

"I'm sorry mom," I say, making my final decision, "I'm going to volunteer." She begins weeping again and comes over to me, wrapping her warm arms around my shoulders and planting a kiss on my cheek.

"Please win," she whispers in my ear. I nod. "I love you," she says, before releasing her grip on me. I kiss each of my siblings on the head and walk out the door.

"Aren't you walking with us?" calls my little sister Reyna.

"I need some time to think, so I'm going to go alone," I shout as I walk out the door. Along the path to the reaping area, I look around to see all the factories and buildings in District 3. It is an ugly place, but it's home.

I finally arrive to the reaping area, and I'm a little bit early. I go to the zapper lady and hold out my finger, and she directs me to the boy's section. I stand there and look at the District 3 hall until more people arrive. I turn to the girls' section and see my two sisters who can be reaped waving at me. I pray they aren't picked. Then I look over at my mom with my two little brothers. She is staring straight ahead, like she's in a trance.

"Welcome, everyone!" shouts a shrill voice from the stage. I look up to see a disgusting Capitol woman smiling at the crowd. She has at least ten-inch heels on and can barely stand up. She has to grip the podium to keep from falling. She has flower tattoos all over her body, and her face looks like it's being pulled back from behind. She is hideous, but she seems pleased with herself. "My name is Luanne Retro!" she says, "and I'm your new escort. This year's quell is very exciting and I hope to see some of you volunteering." She then talks about the quell rules and all the other quells and the whole speech and escort usually gives. Finally, she staggers over to the girl's bowl and puts her hand inside. She pulls it out and unfolds the piece of paper in her hand. "Katrin Calix!" she announces. A creepy looking girl walks up to the stage smiling, like she wanted to be reaped. She stands next to Luanne with a crazed look in her eyes. Luanne dips her hand in the bowl once more and pulls out yet another name. "Alyss Shepherd!" she screams into the mic. A pretty redhead walks up to the stage and stands next to Katrin. "Now for the boys!" says Luanne excitedly, rubbing her hands together like she is about to carry out some evil plot. She stumbles over to the boy's bowl and trips, falling into the bowl and sending it crashing to the ground. The bowl shatters and the little slips of paper are blown all over by the wind. The crowd begins to laugh and Peacekeepers rush to the stage to help Luanne up. She stands up and smooths her dress like nothing happened. Her stretched cheeks turn red as she chooses a boy's name from the ground.

"I volunteer!" I scream. The crowd silences and Luanne smiles.

"Come on up, sweetie!" she says excitedly. I walk up to the stage, not making eye contact with anyone, and stand next to Luanne. "What's your name?" she asks.

"Raden Harvestmoon," I say into the microphone.

"Congratulations, Raden. Let's see who your fellow male tribute will be," she says. She kneels down and picks up another piece of paper off the ground. "Watt Powers!" Luanne announces. A fat ginger walks up to the stage. Oh God. "Let's have a round of applause for the District 3 tributes in the 225th Annual Hunger Games!" Luanne yells to the crowd. They are silent as Luanne ushers us to the train. I sit down next to Alyss and she begins talking to me. Watt is loading up on all the Capitol food there is on the train, and Katrin is studying the reapings from the other Districts. What a group.

District 4 - Jason Clearwater
"Jason, honey. It's reaping day!" my mother whispers into my ear, rubbing my shoulder. A smile forms across my face as my eyes flutter open. My mother is standing over me, smiling. "It's your last day in this house for a while, so what do you want for breakfast?" she asks.

"A cheese omelette," I reply.

"You got it," she says, walking out of the room, "Make sure you get dressed and brush your teeth."

"Ok, mom," I mutter. Like I was going to forget to get dressed and brush my teeth. I put on my nicest clothes and walk out of my room, down the hallway, and into our kitchen. My father and two little sisters are already eating some cereal. I sit down in my usual seat and my mom sets down my omelette in front of me.

"Hey, why does Jason get an omelette?" my little five year old sister Sienna complains, crossing her arms.

"Because he's volunteering for the Hunger Games today," explains my father.

"I am too," Sienna says, "Now where's my omelette?" My dad chuckles and I laugh too.

"You're too young to volunteer," I tell Sienna. She scowls at me and sulks off into her room and slams the door. What a diva.

After eating my omelette I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I was born with razor-sharp teeth that I can bite nearly anything with. Once when I was eight, I put a whole through my tounge. At the academy, the other kids call me Enobaria. I'm fine with that nickname, since she survived two Hunger Games and the Victor's Purge.

"Jason, it's time to go!" my mom calls.

"Coming," I reply.

"Sienna, get out of your room," I hear my mother yell from down the hall. I laugh to myself as I walk to the car. Sienna is going to be a piece of work.

As we drive to the reaping area, which has been moved to a beach renamed "Reaping Beach" (clever, huh), my parents give me advice on what to do in the Games. Both of them are previous victors, and they actually met when my dad mentored my mom, much like Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta. The only reason I am volunteering is to prove I have what it takes to win the Games, just like my parents. Plus, I'm 14, which is the age that Finnick Odair won his Games. We finally arrive at Reaping Beach and I get my blood taken by the zapper. Then, I stand in the boy's section as the escort comes onstage to a loud applause from the audience.

"Thank you for that warm welcome!" she exclaims, "My name is Mona Bridges, and I will be District 4's escort from now until the 250th Hunger Games." Mona then goes onto talk about the quell rules and the whole Treaty of Treason spiel. She is actually very pretty, and does not have much Capitolesque qualities, aside from her hair, which is lime green and standing up straight. "Now let's get to the girl's reaping!" she says loudly. The crowd cheers once more.

She chooses a name from the bowl and then a bunch of girls shout "I volunteer!"

"Oooh, who am I going to pick?" she asks herself. She points to two girls, two young girls, and they walk up to the stage.

"Name and age," Mona says to them.

"Antonia Clay, 12," says one of them.

"Emily Lunamoon, 13," says the other. The crowd cheers for our two young tributes and Mona walks over to the boy's bowl.

After she picks a name, I, along with about fifty others, shout, "I volunteer!" Mona points to me and some other kid, who I recognize from my math class in school, and we walk up to the stage.

"Name and age," she says once again.

"Jason Clearwater, 14," I say.

"Trever Tewie, 14," he says. Wow, these are some young tributes from a Career district.

"Congratulations, tributes!" Mona says into the microphone, barely audible above the screaming crowd. She tells us to go into the train, and we sit down together. Immediately, I can tell that the four of us will be pretty close.

District 5 - Bloom Winterlake
I wake up and look at the clock on my bedside table. It reads 6:00 AM. Why do I always get up so early? I walk quietly into the kitchen, careful not to wake my younger siblings and my father. I put the coffee pot on and start brewing it for my father when he wakes up. As I'm waiting for the coffee, I stare at a picture of my mother hanging over the refrigerator. She was a beautiful woman. She had long blonde hair and blue eyes just like me. I miss her so much. My mother died in a power plant accident a couple of years ago when the battery that powered the electricity to the plant exploded. Her death took a huge toll on our family. We weren't and still aren't the same.

"Morning, Bloom!" my father says cheerily, rubbing his eyes. He's wearing a onesie and he looks pretty funny. I giggle and he looks at me, narrowing his eyes and smiling. "What's so funny?" he asks, knowing I'm laughing at his pajamas.

"Nothing," I say, "I made some coffee for you."

"Thanks, dear," he replies, "You know who made the best coffee?"

"Mom," I say quietly.

"Yep," my dad says, sighing. He looks at the picture of her and back down again at me. "You remind me so much of her sometimes."

"Yeah, I know," I mutter. He says that literally all the time.

"Well, you should probably get ready and take a shower before the little terrors wake up," my dad chuckles.

"Ok," I reply, walking into the bathroom. The terrors my father was talking about were my nine year old twin siblings, Frost and Maple. They really aren't terrors. They are great kids and I love them very much. After I dry my hair and put on my reaping clothes, I exit the bathroom and I see Frost and Maple eating bacon at the kitchen table.

"Since when do you make bacon, dad?" I ask him.

"When I have to give you bad news," he says softly. Oh God.

"What's the bad news?" asks Frost.

"You know how I can usually talk to the head of the District 5 reaping, Mr. Pingle, and get your name out of the reaping bowl?" he says, "Well he died last night, and I don't know the new head, so your name is in there, Bloom."

"It's alright, dad. The odds of me getting picked are still slim to none," I reply quickly. Truthfully, I'm nervous as hell.

"I'm glad you're not nervous," my father says. After eating some of my father's bacon, our family walks together to the reaping area. We pass the power plant where my mother died and I cringe. We finally arrive and I separate from Frost, Maple, and my father to go to the zapper lady. There is a kid in front of me.

"Name?" says the lady.

"Clint Garza," says the boy. She zaps his finger and uses the device to make sure it's him. "Next." She does the same routine with me and I stand in the girl's section, waiting for the escort to appear. After what felt like an eternity, she finally comes onstage. She has icy blue hair and all of her makeup is icy blue as well.

"Hello. My name is Icina Avery and I'm your escort. Let's get this over with," she says drearily. She is nothing like the typical, excited Capitol citizen who loves the Hunger Games. She puts her hand in the girl's bowl and pulls out a piece of paper. She reads the name aloud, "Jamie Carpenter." A girl with pinkish and blonde hair walks up to the stage. She isn't showing any emotions. Icina puts her hand in the girl's bowl once more and pulls out another piece of paper. "Bloom Winterlake." Oh no, that's me! My stomach feels like it is going to burst as I walk hesitantly up to the stage and stand next to Jamie. There is no warm feeling coming from the escort, and I feel really uncomfortable, combined with the fact I will be partaking in a death match. Icina then walks over to the boy's bowl and chooses a name. "Martin Meyers," she says into the microphone. An awkward looking boy with red hair walks quickly up to the stage. When he passes Jamie and me, he doesn't look us in the eye. "The last tribute is," Icina says, unfolding the paper, "Majono Kelsony." Icina is already pushing us towards the train before Majono reaches the stage. I lock eyes with my father one more time before the train door closes.

He mouths one word to me that makes me determined to give it my all, "Win."

District 6 - Drake Johnson
"Drake, wake up. We have to practice early today. It's your last day of training with me before the Games," I hear my grandfather say. I groan and open my eyes.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"4:00 AM," he replies.

"Are you kidding me?" I say, pulling the covers back over me. My grandfather rips the covers off and slaps my butt. "OW!" I scream.

"Let's go!" he says sternly, leaving my bedroom. I put on my usual training outfit and walk with my grandfather through the Chinatown part of District 6 to my kung fu training facility.

"Ni hao," says my trainer, Se Han.

"Ni hao," I reply.

"Today we are going to work on kicks," he explains. Se Han then starts kicking the air and waving his arms around. I know I can do what he's doing. "Now you try." I begin to imitate what Se Han did, but then I fall flat on my face. "You need more practice and balance. I will leave you alone for an hour and come back then. You should have those kicks down by then," he says, leaving the training area. I grumble and begin practicing the kicks. After what seems like an eternity, Se Han returns. "Show me," he says serenely. I do the various kicks and hand motions and a smile spreads across his face. "You are ready," he tells me. I grin and shake his hand.

"Thank you, Se Han," I say to him.

"Your welcome, master. Now win the Games and kill the President!" he says confidently.

I nod and when he's out of earshot, I mutter to myself, "Yeah right," and roll my eyes. I walk back to our house to get ready for the reaping. My grandfather is part of some elite group that is plotting to kill the President, and they've come up with a way. Each year they send two tributes that are highly trained to win the Hunger Games. If they win, they're job is to kill the President during the crowning. It would mean imminent death for them, but that is the sacrifice. So whether I win the Games or not, I will still die.

After taking a shower and getting dressed, I walk downstairs to my grandfather, who is sitting in a chair and staring out the window.

"Are you ready?" he asks to me.

"Yes," I reply with more confidence than I really have.

"Good," he says, looking at me, "I'm proud of you." I smile and he stands up. "Now let's get to the reaping, shall we?" he asks. I nod and we walk out the door and head towards the reaping area in District 6.

As we are walking, I ask my grandfather, "Who is the other tribute that is plotting to kill the President?"

"Oh, they don't tell me. I know it's a girl, but she could be from any district, even the Capitol. Don't worry about that though, just focus on yourself," he tells me. I nod silently, but I want to ask him so many more questions. Who's the leader of this organization? What is it even called? Is the other tribute trained in kung fu too? How do they pick who are the two chosen tributes? Will they come after me if I win and don't kill the President? But I don't ask him any of these questions because I know they will only upset him.

We finally get to the reaping area and I shake my grandpa's hand for the last time. Then I head over to the zapper lady and wince when she zaps my finger. She directs me to the boy's section, where I chat with the other guys until the escort comes onstage.

"Excuse me," she says, trying to get the crowd's attention. Once they quiet down, she begins talking again. "Hello, District 6. My name is Anita DeRemo, and I am your new escort. Before we begin, I would like to bring up Sasha Selenta, District 6's most recent victor!" Anita says. The cheer for Sasha is pretty poor. She won twenty-seven years ago, and people are starting to think she has put a curse or something on District 6, because we have performed poorly in the Games since she won.

"Now, you all know the Quell rules, so I won't repeat them," Anita says into the microphone, "so let's get some tributes reaped!" Anita walks over to the girl's bowl. She has really bright blonde hair and tan skin. She is wearing a white outfit that has random holes in it, showing some of her skin at various parts of her body. She has huge breasts, which are obviously fake, and she flaunts them off every chance she gets. "The first female is," Anita announces, unfolding the paper, "Yuna Besaid!" A girl with different colored eyes walks up to the stage, smiling. She seems really nice. Maybe a little too nice. Anita sticks her hand in the girl's bowl once more and pulls out a name. "Kate McAllister!" she reads aloud. A pretty blonde girl walks up to the stage, smiling a little bit, and stands next to Yuna. "Now for the boys!" shouts Anita, walking over to the boy's bowl and sticking out her chest. She puts her hand in the bowl and moves it around.

Before she can read the name, I shout out, "I volunteer!" The crowd gasps and looks at me. Sasha smiles. I walk up to the stage where Anita is giddy with glee.

"We have a volunteer! So exciting! What's your name, honey?" she asks me.

"Drake Johnson," I reply.

"Congratulations, Drake," she says to me, "Who will be joining you?" She puts her hand in the bowl and pulls out a name. "It's Xavier Woods!" she shouts. A boy walks up to the stage, not showing much emotion, and stands next to Yuna. After saying her little closing speech, Anita tells us to get onto the train. Sasha follows and we all sit down in the dining car. I am already getting weird vibes off Xavier, Yuna is annoyingly nice, and Kate seems like she can turn on and off a switch in her brain that says, "Nice, Mean." I'm a little creeped out by these guys, and I can't wait to meet the other tributes in training.

District 7 - Liza Kay
I wake up on the cold, hard floor of my jail cell like I do every morning. It's not even my fault that I'm in here. My parents were part of some group that was planning on assassinating the President and abolishing the Hunger Games. I wasn't a part of that group. They were. I remember the day we were taken away from out District 7 home like it was yesterday. I walked in the front door to see my parents being handcuffed by Peacekeepers. And then one of the Peacekeepers handcuffed me. Once my parents and I were put in the same jail cell, they explained to me about the group and how they were caught at a meeting. A few days later, the Peacekeepers executed them and I've been here ever since. Two years have gone by since they died.

Suddenly, the lock on my cell door jiggles. I look up to see ten Peacekeepers entering my jail cell. I cower in fear and back up to the corner. They're going to kill me. Three Peacekeepers come over and hold down my arms and legs while two others place some sort of mask on my face. I am going to be gassed to death. Great. The last thing I see before I black out is a Peacekeeper wink at me.

I wake up, disoriented and confused. I look around and realize I am in the back of a car. I look out the window and see forests and trees galore. District 7! I haven't seen this place for two years and it feels amazing to be back, even if it's just a car ride. I hear muffled voices from the front of the car and I press my ear to the wall that separates us.

"Why aren't they just killing her?" asked one Peacekeeper. He had a really deep voice.

"Well they are sending her to the Hunger Games. That's pretty much a death sentence," says another. He sounds nice, well as nice as a Peacekeeper can be.

"Yeah, but why not just shoot her, hang her, electrocute her, inejct her with poison or something like that? It doesn't make sense because there is always that possibility she will survive. And then they can't kill her because she'll be famous," the deep-voiced one explains.

"I don't know. I'm not the government. Maybe they think the Hunger Games will be crueler than any execution," says the nice one. Oh God. I'm being entered into the Hunger Games.

"I just think there is something fishy going on," says the deep voiced one again. Suddenly, the car stops. "Put that knife down, dude. Now!" the deep-voiced one shouts. Then I hear a grunt and the sound of a knife entering a chest. A door swings open and I hear a thud. The "nice" one is dumping the body and I'm probably next. I hear the doors of the car creak open and I see the Peacekeeper who winked at me before I went under.

"Hello, sunshine!" he says to me. I stare at him. "Cat got your tongue?" he asks.

"You killed that man," I say solemnly.

"I did it to protect you," he replies. What? He must be able to tell I'm confused from the look on my face. "Don't you know who you are?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm Liza Kay. My parents were killed for plotting to kill the President and I've been in jail ever since," I say.

"You are going to carry out what your parents couldn't," he explains, "Your name is going to be drawn at the reaping and you will enter the Hunger Games. If you win, you will kill the President during the crowning ceremony."

"No, I'm not doing it," I refuse.

"Fine, it's either that or we drive back to the jail and get you shot up by some Capitol goons," he says angrily.

I sigh and say, "Let's go to the reaping." We get back in the car and he drives me to the District 7 reaping. The Peacekeeper tells me his name is Jordon and he is an undercover spy for the group that is trying to kill the President. He's been one for seven years.

We finally reach the reaping area and I stand in the girls' section after being zapped for blood. The escort, a male, walks onstage quickly, eyeing his watch.

"Excuse me," he says, "Let's get this over with quickly. My name is Mason and I am your escort, yadda yadda yadda, I'm on a tight schedule so here we go." He walks over to the girl's bowl and I prepare to hear my name called. Sure enough, he announces, "Liza Kay" to the crowd. The few people who remember me gasp as I walk onstage, knowing I was sent to jail. "Casablanca Cyrellia!" Mason calls out before I even make it to the stage.

"I volunteer!" a girl shouts. She walks quickly up to the stage. Why couldn't she volunteer for me?

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Camellia Cyrellia," she replies. That's why she didn't volunteer for me. Casablanca is her sister. Mason walked over to the boy's bowl, not even announcing Camellia's name to the crowd.

"Kirk Frelt!" he calls out. A boy with black hair and purple eyes walks slowly to the stage, looking sad and gloomy. "Chop chop!" Mason says. He's so annoying. "And the last boy is Adullius Burshnack. Thank you everyone!" Mason says quickly. He motions us towards the train and we literally have to run to catch up with him. We all sit down together and I can already tell Adullius is a little awkward. Oh well, they will all be dead soon anyway.

District 8 - Isabel Davids
I've already been awake for five hours when most of the other kids in District 8 are waking up. I see lights flicker in some nearby houses and I took off towards my house. I go out hunting in the woods every morning, and I bring my game home to my mother every day. It's the only way we survive. That and tesserae.

"Mom, I'm back," I call out, my soft voice echoing throughout the house.

"I don't care," she hollers back from her room. I sit down in the kitchen and put my rabbit on the stove to boil. I walk into my mother's bedroom and she is chugging down a bottle of vodka.

"Mom, you're going to die from alcohol poisoning if you keep drinking like that," I tell her.

"Shut up and get dressed or I'll do to you what I did to your father," she snaps at me. I shudder and feel my body start to tense up. My father was the nicest, kindest, most sefless man I've ever met. He was rarely home because he worked four jobs to keep my mother and me from starving. I don't know why he married my mother. I guess he just wanted to change her and fix her into a better woman. Anyway, whenever my father was home, he spent all of his time with me. We played with my toys, explored outside, and just sat and talked. My mother was jealous of me, and she got into arguments with my father about it often. One night, she got so mad that she stabbed him in the chest with a knife, killing him. She threatened to kill me if I ever told anyone, and I know she will in a heartbeat. Ever since the day my mother killed my father, my mother hasn't worked and has turned to drinking as an escape.

"Why do I have to get dressed so early?" I ask her.

"Because it's reaping day, you fool. And I hope you get picked so I don't have to take care of you anymore," she snickers. I hate my mother, but I would feel bad if I abandoned her. She is still my mother after all, even if I wish she isn't. I close the door in my room and sit down on my bed, undressing as I think about volunteering for the Games. If I volunteer, I'll probably die, but I'll at least get away from my mother and be with my father in heaven. The more I think about it, though, the more I realize that I can't volunteer. I have a long, happy life ahead of me, and I'm not going to cut it short because of my mother's drinking problem. I'll be out of the house at eighteen and my new life will be great. I come out of my room, completely dressed up.

"Are you coming to the reaping, mom?" I ask her. She stares daggers at me.

"What do you think?" she snarls at me.

"I'll take that as a no," I say to her, walking out the door.

"I hope you don't come back," she yells after me. I walk alone to the reaping area, staring at the scenery as I pass. Most of it is just factories, but there are a couple patches of forest here and there. I finally arrive at the reaping area and get my finger zapped for the first time. This is my first reaping, and I have to admit I'm a little nervous. My name is in there ten times, which isn't that much compared to others, but it's still a good amount. I stand awkwardly amongst the girls, not talking to any of them, when our escort comes from behind the curtain to the stage of the District 8 reaping area.

"Welcome, District 8! My name is Darla Conoda, and I am your new escort for District 8! Let me just say that I am excited to have such a wonderful District, and I hope we have another victor this year!" says the escort. She's wearing cherry red lipstick and has purple hair wrapped tightly in a bun. Her teeth are razor sharp and her pants are really short. "I would like the two most recent victors, Whitney Finch and Theodore Welch, to come to the stage," Darla says excitedly. The crowd cheers as District 8's pride and joy appears onstage. Whitney started District 8 on a hotstreak in the Games, winning the 199th. Then Theo took home the 200th and a District 8 girl was the runner-up in those Games. In the past 25 years, we've come pretty close to winning and many of our tributes end up in the Careers. I wonder how it will be this year.

"Let's get to the reapings!" shouts Darla. She waddles over to the girl's bowl and puts her hand inside. She removes a piece of paper and unfolds it. "Arabella Misk!" she shouts into the microphone. A cold looking girl walks swiftly up to the stage. I do not want to mess with her. Darla puts her hand in again and pulls out another name. "Isabel Davids!" she says in her annoying Capitol accent. Wait. That's me. I walk slowly up to the stage, still in shock over what's happening. I guess my mother will get her wish. I'm not going home. Darla makes her way over to the boy's bowl and pulls out a name. "Flicks Marvel!" she reads aloud. A boy walks up to the stage and he seems very mysterious. "And the last tribute is," Darla says, taking her hand out of the bowl, "Jonah Thompson!" A boy with black hair jogs to the stage, looking pretty confident. Darla leads, Whitney, Theo, Flicks, Arabella, Jonah, and me to the train where we all sit around the dining table.

"I feel good about these guys," I hear Theo whisper to Whitney. She nods and smiles at us. Hm. Maybe I have a chance of winning after all.

District 9 - Lucas Rayden
I look down on District 9 from the top of the giant hill near my house. It's my favorite place in the world. I can sit up here for hours at a time, just watching everyone. I then hear the reaping bell. Crap, I completely forgot about that. I run down the hill towards my house, not even breaking a sweat. I always try and find time to work out. Keeping in shape is what I do in my spare time. That and people-watch. I make it back to my house and burst through the front door.

"Get ready," my father grunts from his recliner chair, reading the paper.

"I know, I know," I mumble, walking towards my room. My dad's relationship with me isn't the strongest. My mother died shortly after my birth, and my dad still blames me for her death. It doesn't really affect me though. I know deep down it's not my fault, and my father just needs someone to blame. I put on a tight shirt to show off my toned body for the ladies. After getting fully dressed, I walk into the kitchen and pour some cereal into a bowl for breakfast. "Dad, what would you do if I got reaped?" I ask him.

"Nothing," he says, not even looking up. Well that's reassuring. I put my bowl in the sink and brush my teeth.

"Dad, I'm leaving for the reaping now," I tell him.

"Whatever," he mutters. I'm pissed off at him now. What the hell did I do to deserve this kind of treatment? I storm out of the house and towards the reaping area. On the way, I pass my neighbor's farm. I kick the bales of hay so hard that the hay separates and flies all over the place. "Shit," I say to myself, quickly trying to pick up the hay piles before they notice. My attempts are futile, though, because it's nearly impossible and Mrs. Jackson is speed walking towards me. She reachs me and I can see the stern look on her face. She's mad.

"H-hi Mrs. Jackson," I stammer.

"What the heck happened here?" she asks furiously, "I pay good money for those hay bales and I don't want no teenagers wrecking them!"

"It was the wind," I say calmly.

"Bullshit!" she yells, "I saw you kick it!" Dammit. I have to use my charm on her.

"Mrs. Jackson, the hay in this bale had a bug nest in it," I lie, "I didn't want your cattle to be infected, so I separated the hay. The bugs flew away and I threw the nest over in that ditch." She looks at the ditch I am pointing to, but luckily doesn't move up close to see if I'm lying or not.

"But why are you trying to put the hay back together?" she asks me. Good question.

"I didn't want to waste all of it. I am recollecting the non-infected hay," I muster up. She seems satisified.

"Thank you, boy," she says, "Now run along! The reaping is soon." I nod and take off down the path towards the District 9 center. Phew, that was a close one. I reach the center and get my finger zapped as usual, and stand amongst the other guys in our district. Then, the escort walks up the steps to the podium and takes the microphone.

"Greetings, District 9!" she shouts out, making the microphone do that annoying, high-pitched squeak. "My name is Marisol Margot. I am District 9's new escort," she says excitedly. Marisol has a bright yellow outfit on and a whole bunch of sunflowers in her hair. She has orange lipstick and bright yellow makeup on. She is almost too bright to look at. "Now, the quell rules state that four tributes must be reaped, and once they are reaped, split into two different arenas," Marisol continues, "Exciting, isn't it? Now, let's find out who the lucky tributes will be! She walks over to the girl's bowl and jams her hand inside. She pulls out a name and reads it to the crowd. "Rowanne Tamela!" she says. A girl, who is staring at the ground, walks slowly to the stage. She would be pretty if she actually tried. "The second female tribute is," Marisol says, unfolding the piece of paper, "Jane Skye!" A girl who looks really quiet walks up to the stage. These girls seem boring. Hopefully there is a good guy I can root for. "Now for the boys!" Marisol says, heading over to the boy's bowl. She puts her hand inside and picks out two names by accident. "Oops, well I guess we need two anyway. The two male tributes are Dack Lorio and Lucas Rayden!" she announces. I am shocked inside, but I don't let anyone else think so. I walk coolly up to the stage, winking at a few hot girls as I pass. Dack stands next to me, and he looks scared.

"Let's have a round of applause for your tributes!" Marisol says, trying to pump up the crowd. It doesn't work. "Oh well, I tried," she says to herself, leading us onto the train. The four of us sit down. Jane is staring out the window, Rowanne is staring at the ground, and Dack is staring off into space. These guys are a bunch of lame starers.

District 10 - Madeleine Levenhire
"Reaping day, Maddie!" says my mother from the kitchen. I grumble and roll over in bed. Reaping day has been a terrible day for my family. My would be aunt and uncle - Caitlyn and Clay Levenhire - were reaped and killed in the 198th and 200th Games respectively. I do not want to end up like them.

I finally get out of my bed and walk towards my closet. I pick out the prettiest dress I can find, and put it on. I took a shower last night, so I'm good for this morning. I walk out of my bedroom, down the hall and through the kitchen door.

"You look pretty, Maddie!" my father says cheerfully.

"Thanks," I say, sitting down across from him at the kitchen table. He's drinking tea and thumbing through some farming book.

"Maddie, how do you want your eggs?" my mother asks.

"Uhh, fried, I guess," I tell her. She fries up some eggs from our hens and she sets them in front of me on the table. I eat them quickly. They are sooo good.

"You nervous for reaping day?" my father asks. I shrug.

"Not really," I respond. I'm actually really nervous, as I am every reaping day.

"Good, you shouldn't be," my father says with a smile on his face.

"Speaking of reaping day," my mother calls from her bedroom, "we have to get going!" I put my dirty plate in the sink and brush my teeth. My parents are already out of the house by the time I get out of the bathroom. I close the door and lock it behind me. Then, I catch up with my parents, who are walking down the dirt road along our farm. I stare at the cows and I know I'll miss this place if I'm ever reaped.

We finally arrive at the reaping area and I walk over to the zapper lady.

"Finger," she says. I hold it out reluctantly and pull away when she tries to zap it. "Finger," she repeats. I give her my finger and look away. Then I jolt when she zaps it. "Next!" she screams. I quickly walk away from her and over to the girl's section. I look up nervously at the stage, when our escort appears from behind the curtain. She's wearing a pink dress that has sparkles everywhere. Her face and hair are also full of sparkles. Her eyes are upturned and she has a creepy smile on her face.

"Hello, District 10 and welcome to the reaping for the 225th Hunger Games!" she says, "My name is Lunesta Emery, and I am your new escort." She keeps talking on and on about the quell rules and the dark days. I perk up when she walks over to the girl's bowl. She puts her hand inside and swirls it around, picking a name from the bottom. "Ashley Fretson!" she says excitedly. A girl with brown hair, who looks like a lost puppy, walks slowly up to the stage. "And the second girl is," Lunesta begins, unfolding the paper, "Madeleine Levenhire!" The Levenhire family curse strikes again. I try to act confident, but I'm having a hard time pulling it off as I walk up to the stage. I stand next to Ashley as Lunesta walks over to the boy's bowl. She sticks her hand in and reads the name on the slip of paper. "Kevin Quince!" she yells. A boy with long hair who looks pretty fierce comes onstage, eyeing Ashley and me to see if we were worthy I guess. "And the last District 10 tribute is," Lunesta starts, "Lance Thrust!" A boy with a ridiculous panda hat walks quickly up to the stage. Lunesta pushes us towards the train and we all sit down together. Ashley and I begin to talk, and Lance talks to Lunesta. Kevin is alone, looking out the window. He looks mad and I don't want to get in his way in the arena.

District 11 - Michelle Rhode
Growing up in District 11 without parents has been pretty tough. My mother died during a drought when I was four, and my father ran away later that year. My siblings have kept our family afloat through the tough times.

"Michelle! Miles! Reaping day!" my older sister Milly calls from the kitchen. Ugh. I hate reaping day. Only one person in my entire family has ever been reaped, my aunt Maizi. She came in third in the 198th Games. Still, I reaping day always made me anxious, and the fact that my name is entered twenty three times for tesserae doesn't help matters.

"Okay," I shout back. I get out of bed and bring my nice reaping clothes into the bathroom. I then undress and hop into the shower. After showering, I put on my reaping clothes and brush my gray and black hair. I walk out of the bathroom and down the hallway to see my three sisters and three brothers sitting around the table eating breakfast.

"You look cute, Michelle!" my oldest sister Mara says to me. I feel a smile spreading across my face. My older siblings aren't the nicest to my only younger sibling Miles and me. It's not that they abuse or hit us or anything like that, it's just that we are pretty much ignored. I still love them though, because without my siblings, I probably wouldn't be here today.

"Thanks, Mara," I reply, "Miles, you can shower now."

"Ok, Michelle," he says, putting his empty bowl in the sink and walking into the bathroom. Once he closes the door, my siblings begin to talk in hushed tones.

"Once Michelle is too old to be reaped, should we make Miles take tessera?" Milly asks.

"Yeah, we'll need the food," says Mike.

"No, he's the baby of the family. We have to protect him," Missy says sternly.

"We don't have to decide right now. We still have two years," Matt says. I want to say that Miles shouldn't take tessarae, but I don't want to restart the argument. Miles and I have some sort of special connection. I guess it's because we're the two youngest, but I would be lost without him.

"It's getting late. We have to go soon," Mara tells us, "Miles! Let's go!" Miles exits the bathroom door and joins us in the kitchen.

"Ready!" he says. We walk out the door and I lock it behind us. I pray this won't be the last time I ever see my house. On the way to the reaping, I think about how much I should appreciate my older siblings. Mara is twenty-seven, and she is still living with us and providing for us. Mara, Missy, Mike, Matt, and Milly could abandon Miles and me and go out on their own, but they don't. They stay with us.

We arrive at the reaping area, and Miles and I wave goodbye to our siblings as we walk over to the zapper guy. He takes our blood and I hug Miles before going into the girl's section.

"Good luck!" I whisper.

"Good luck to you, too!" he replies. I stand amidst the other girls in District 11. Most of them are dark-skinned. I don't really care though; I'm used to being "the white girl" in school. Our new escort walks up the stairs to the podium. She is dark skinned and has on a beautiful, flowing black dress. Her hair looks very pretty and her makeup is normal; not like the typical freakish Capitol makeup. The only thing that screams "Capitol" about her is the ridiculous amount of gold jewelry she is wearing.

"Hi, my name is Tisha Tomay, and I'm your new escort. I know the Hunger Games isn't exciting for District 11, so let's just get this over with quickly. I don't want to drag it out for you," Tisha explains. I'm floored. We have an escort who isn't a freak? Since when does that happen? "Oh, and before we begin, here's your most recent victor, Destiny Carven." Destiny stands up and waves to the crowd. Tisha walks quickly over to the girl's bowl and as she pulls the name out, a girl screams, "I volunteer!" A white girl with red and brown hair jogs up to the stage confidently. She looks really young. "What's your name?" Tisha asks.

The girl rips the mic out of Tisha's hand and begins speaking into it. "I'm Amara Airess, and I'm your next victor!" Tisha rips the mic back out of her hand and tells her to stand to the side. She walks back over to the girl's bowl and pulls out a name.

"Michelle Rhode!" she says to the crowd. My jaw drops and I slowly walk to the stage, hoping for another volunteer or someone else named Michelle Rhode. But it's hopeless. I'm going into the Hunger Games. I stand next to Amara as Tisha calls out the next tribute. "Garret Houldy!" she says. A big, dark-skinned guy walks up to the stage sullenly. He looks really tough. "And the last tribute is," Tisha begins, "Hoe Ritchie." Another dark-skinned boy comes up to the stage, but he seems quiet and nice. Tisha and Destiny walk us over to the train and I catch Miles' eye one last time before the train door closes. I sit down next to Hoe while Tisha and Destiny disappear into another car. Amara and Garret are watching the other reapings, with various comments throughout. Then I hear the name, "Levenhire." That rings a bell.

District 12 - Laea Rail
"This it, Laea," Tamara says, looking into my eyes as I shoot my last arrow. It hits the bullseye of the target we set up. Tamara and I spend as much time as we can in the woods. She trains me for the Games, and she has become my best friend through it all.

"Tamara, I don't think there are words to show how grateful I am to you," I tell her with misty eyes. She runs over and hugs me, and we cry together.

"Laea, promise me you'll win. You have to," she cries.

"I will, Tamara, I will," I say. We hug and cry for a good ten minutes when I finally release my grip on her. "I have to go now," I say.

"Ok, I'll see you at the reaping," she says to me sadly. I walk back to the orphanage where I live with my brother Darren. We've lived here since our parents were taken away for hunting outside of District 12. We still don't know if they are alive or not. I open the door to the orphange and the screams and cries of children echo through the old, tattered house. I hate this place so much. I ignore the dirty, gross kids as I walk to the room I share with four other girls my age. One is lying naked on her bed, sleeping. She's gross. The other two are drawing all over her with markers. I shake my head and walk into the bathroom to get ready for the reaping. I take a shower and put on the only clean clothes I have. I exit the bathroom and the naked girl, who has marker all over her body, has one of the other ones in a headlock, and the other drawer is passed out on the floor. That or she's dead.

I quickly leave the room before the naked gross girl takes her anger out on me. I search for Darren when a hand grabs my shoulder. I spin around and Darren is standing behind me. "I was looking for you!" I tell me.

"Yeah, let's get out of here and go to the reaping early," he says to me, "And we'll go to the woods after the reaping." I nod guiltily. I still haven't told Darren I'm volunteering. I just don't have the heart to tell him, and I fear that he'll convince me not to. We walk together on the familiar path to District 12's center. We've taken many walks here, because we spend as much time as we can out of the orphanage.

Darren and I reach the center of District 12 and stroll over to the zapper lady. I hug him one last time before we part ways. "I love you, Darren," I say to him.

"Uh, love you too," he replies, confused. I stand with the other girls from District 12, blending in with the Seam girls. I look for the naked girl in the crowd, but I can't find her. Then, our escort comes onstage from behind a curtain. It's a guy this year.

"Hey, District 12! I'm Hawk Poppel, your new escort!" he says enthusiastically, "Let's get this crowd pumped up!" No one says a word. Hawk frowns a little and I can tell he feels awkward. "Alright, so you know the quell rules about the four tributes and the different arenas, so let's get to the reaping part. We'll start with the boys because I want to!" Hawk tells us. He struts over to the boy's bowl and picks out two names. "Nick Lovizio and Anthony Webb! Come on down!" he shouts. Two boys, who both look scared to death, walk slowly and quietly towards the stage. "Now for the ladies!" he says, heading towards the girl's bowl.

As he puts his hand in, I gulp and shout, "I volunteer!" Everyone looks at me, and I look at Darren, who is crestfallen.

"Come on up, here!" Hawk says, bursting with excitement. I walk to the stage and look at Tamara, who is giving me a thumbs up while wiping away the tears in her eyes. "What's your name, sweet thing?" he asks.

"Laea Rail," I say into the mic.

"Well congrats Laea. Let's see who your fellow female will be!" Hawk says. He picks a name out of the girl's bowl and unfolds it. "Sian Malley!" he shouts. A mean-looking girl stops up to the stage, showing no emotion. Hawk pushes us towards the train and we all sit down by the food and begin eating. I hope I can win this thing.