*****REAPINGS*****

DISTRICT ONE

Rhyno Kazarian

The sun burns my eyelids in the morning light. I groan and try to roll over, but the mirror closet only refects the shine. How does she sleep like this? I wonder as I grudgingly sit up in the bed. Blinking doesn't seem to help my state at first, but slowly the light becomes bearable. Finally, my eyes scan the room. White walls, mirror closet, two extra dressers; all the makings of an average District One girl's bedroom.

I glance to my left, and find the sight of a naked girl twisted and tangled in her covers and pillows. Her light blonde hair -most likely fake- shines in the sunlight, and is almost painful to look at. What is her name again? Glitz... Glimmer... Grace...? It started with 'G'. That is all I can remember about her. I quickly get up and scan the room for my clothes. I need to get out of here soon, if I'm going to make it back home to change, and still be in time for the Reapings. This is my year, after all.

My pants are over by the closet, and my shirt is hanging over the edge of the bed. Pulling my stuff back on, I take one last glance at the mess of a girl on the bed. I debate waking her before my departure, but decide against it. I don't even remember her name; that would only make for an awkward conversation.

I debate going out her room door, but decided against it as well. Her parents might be downstairs for all I know. So I make my way over to the window. I'm in a second story bedroom, I note, and scan around for anything to help me down. Luckily, not too far away is a big enough tree to help me get away. Slowly, I slide open the window and step out onto the thin railing. My long arms stretch out and grap the closest branch to me.

Now, I'm no expert tree climber, but I know to hold on and move slowly. I'm not from District Seven, where they swing through trees daily. Carefully, I make my way down the branch and to the trunk of the tree. There are a few more branches below that take me to about seven feet off the ground. I brace my knees before making the jump, and land easily on my feet. Looking back at the window, I notice I left the window open. Oh well.

My walk to home is a fairly short one. Turns out, I lived less than ten minutes away from G-what's-her-face's house. That might make for a bad confrontation later, but I don't linger on it. I don't have time to. Besides, I won't be living in this house much longer. In a few months time, I'll have my own home in the Victor's Village.

To say I've been training for the Hunger Games is an understatement; I've been training since I was able to crawl. Along with a binkie, I was given a dart gun. Harmless, but it hurt like hell. By the time I was six, I knew how to work a whip to my advantage, and when I was ten, I could successfully defeat a group of five other ten year olds on my own. Now? Now, I can slice up a dummy within ten seconds, spear a target dead on, and beat the living hell out of anyone.

My house is fairly large, and apart of the nicer side of the district. The only nicer houses available are in the Victor's Village, which we'll soon be in. The last member of our family that won the games was my grandfather, Clark. But since then, our family gene has produced mainly girls, who have no place in the Hunger Games. Only the sons got to train. The women of the family are meant to be housewives and care for the children. The men do the work.

As I step inside, I see my younger brother Lyon, being messed around by our mother. Father is probably still at work. And here comes June, my little sister, flying down the stairs. Her usual pin-drop straight red hair has been curled, and has taken a few extra inches of length away. "Hey short-stack." I say as I try to ruffle her hair, knowing she'd hate it. June dodges easily and sends me one of her glares. For being only 5'3, she was about as fiery as her hair. I guess it's true that redheads have hot tempers.

"Asshole." June says as she grabs a bagel from the kitchen. Her black-brown eyes continue their glare, as I never leave her sight, even as she's making eggs. "I know I'm good looking, but do you have to make it so obvious?" I say with a smirk. She waves her middle finger like a flag before taking her breakfast up the stairs. I chuckle as Lyon goes bounding up the stairs after her. For a little five year old boy, who supposedly thinks all girls have cooties, he adores our sister like no other. Mother follows after him, but stops at the top and turns back to me. "Rhyno, the Reapings are in two hours. Get ready, please." I smile and nod before I myself make my way upstairs.

While passing by June's room, I see mother trying to grab Lyon, who keeps dodging her swiftly, all the while June is screaming for them both to get out. I have to smile at the scene. My family would be one of the best reality show on television. Forget the Hunger Games; 'Keeping up with the Kazarians' would bring in ten times more views than any game.

My room is the only one smaller than the master bedroom. It also has a connected bathroom, convenient for mornings like this. I strip down quickly and turn on the shower, trying to refocus my mind on what's important. In the matter of hours, I'll be on my way to Capitol. And in a few months, I'll be back home here in District One, the new Hunger Games champion.

Mystic Spark

Dressing up is not something I enjoy to do. I'd much rather spend this morning in the training gym, getting all the extra time in I can before I go to Capitol. But today are the Reapings, so instead of enjoying sparing with Emerald, or spearing the head of a dummy with a javelin, I'm stuck with my mother and hand maid, being forced through the torture of 'being a woman'.

I don't see the point of forcing me to dress up. It's not like I'm like all the other girls in District One; beautiful, gorgeous, stunning... those words didn't describe me. In fact, I've been told sometimes that I'm slightly repulsing. I guess if I didn't have all my scars I'd be pretty. But I like my scars. They're a testament to all my hard work and training.

I feel a needle poke my side through the thin fabric, and let out a squeal. Mother gives me an annoyed look from the mirror reflection. "Mystic, champions do not squeal like guinea pigs. They don't even complain when injured. Toughen up!" And for extra emphasis, she tugs on my hair slightly, making me want to shove the stupid brush up her ass.

Rude and crude to do to one's own mother, but at this point, she deserves it.

Another thirty minutes of torture and we're ready to go. My younger sister, Jewel, is already waiting for us by the door, as is Flare. Since mother was with me, Evanescent must have helped her dress. Jewel was perfectly capable of doing almost anything on her own, but if she could, she'd have everyone else do it all for her. The saying 'if you want something done right, do it yourself' does not apply to her. She's perfectly content with doing nothing while everyone else around slaves away. Such an attitude will never win her the Hunger Games.

"Evane! Where is my apple!" A prime example. Jewel's poor hand maid comes scurrying out of the kitchen with a bright red apple in hand. She hands it to Jewel with a meek curtsy, and her messy bun of brown hair falls apart. "Ugh. Clean yourself up. Do you not strive to be presentable in my presence, Evane?"

"Sorry Miss Spark. It won't happen again." Evanescent says while backing away quickly. She looks as if she's about to fall over her own feet she's moving so fast. Mother does not comment on Jewel's outrageous behavior, so neither do I. I'm not her mother; it's not my place to judge.

We walk quickly to the square, where the Reapings have just started. To feign the mother/daughter relationship that we supposedly had, mother kisses my forehead and whispers good luck before sending me on to my section. I watch as she does the same thing for Flare and Jewel, though there's are unnecessary. They wouldn't be going anywhere for at least another year.

The Treaty of Treason is boring and long, as always. But I stand through it and patiently wait for our Escort Copper to take the stage. She does not disappoint when she comes flying across the stage with bronze hair, a gold dress, and copper skin. It all actually clashes terribly, but she seems to think it works.

"Hello District One! Welcome to the Reapings of the Ninety-Eight Hunger Games! I just know we're going to bring home another victor this year!" She says the same line every year. But in her defense, our District does have one of the highest probabilities of returning home. In any case, she's already moved on, so there's really no need or time to linger on the subject any longer.

"Let's get started, shall we? Ladies first!" She says as she reaches for the first reaping bowl. Copper tries to draw out the suspense as long as possible, but it's really of no use. No one here cares if they're reaped. And on the off chance that they do, is a volunteer in the crowd -ready to take their place- in a heartbeat. And that's going to be me this year. I'm the volunteer.

"Galaxy Mundez!" And no sooner has the words left her mouth that I shout "I volunteer!" and race for the stage. The original girl doesn't even move, at least as far as I see. She's still out in the crowd somewhere, probably fuming if I have to guess. But I don't care.

I take the stage with pride and march straight up to Copper. Her eyes judge me and follow my scar marks before her lips twitch into a slight frown. She's used to drop-dead-gorgeous tributes, not girls with too many marks on her face, neck, and really anywhere to count.

"What's your name?" She asks almost reluctantly. "Mystic Spark." Her look to me remains the same as she observes me for a few more moments. She still doesn't know quite what to make of me I take it, and I actually find slight joy in this fact.

"Well, let's go to our gentlemen now." Copper says as she hurries away from me, and I give my best poker face to the camera. It's always best not to show any emotion on Reaping day. The Capitol viewers mark you as 'mysterious', and they loved those tributes. Mysterious Mystic; I could get used to that.

"Seed Orptyn!" I see the figure of an average-sized boy with slight muscles start moving to the stage, but he's soon knocked out of the way by a much bigger, much taller boy. This new boy, with honey gold hair and chocolate brown eyes, takes to the stage. "My name is Rhyno Kazarian, and I volunteer as the male tribute." He says with a cool smile, and I immediately see his angle. He was going to be charming.

"Everyone, give it up for our two tributes Mystic Spark and Rhyno Kazarian!" Copper shouts, and the average amount of applause is given, as it is every year. Rhyno and I shake hands, and I try to decided whether he'll be a friend or foe. But when I see slight repulsion -or was it dislike?- in his eyes, I know it'll be the later. And at that moment, I mark the name Rhyno Kazarian on my kill list.

DISTRICT TWELVE

Asaph Lore

Chloe and I walk hand and hand through the shadows of the Seam. It's early morning, with the sun barely peaking over the top of the shag houses. It's nice and quiet, and I find myself staring off at the horizon. Right now, everything is perfect.

Chloe lets out a long sigh, and I turn to question her with my eyes. "I wish it could stay like this forever; just you and me here, together, and not have to worry about the Reapings." She says while staring at the ground. I gingerly lift her head and bring my mouth upon hers. "I know how terrible this time of year is for us -for everyone, really- but we'll make it through, just like we did last year, and the year before, and the year before that." This causes a smile, but her eyes still hold sadness and insecurity. "Hey. We'll be fine, Chloe. You're not getting reaped, and neither am I."

"But how do you know for sure? We're both eighteen. This is our last year of going through the Reapings. But this is also the year when we have the most slips in the bowl. Hell, my name alone is in there at least a dozen times! And what about you? Did you take any tesseraes?" Her green eyes hold no escape, and I feel guiltier than ever for being a merchant child.

"No," I admit, "I didn't have to."

"Good. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you." Her tiny hands wrap around me tightly as she buries her head into my chest. I stroke her soft brown hair in an attempt to comfort. "And I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. But neither of us are going to loose each other. Ok? Look at me Chloe. This is our last year; we're going to come out on top. We're going to make it, no matter what." Her big green eyes finally look back up with me. She is happier than before, but I still see fear lurking not too far behind.

"I love you Asaph."

"I love you too Chloe."

We walk in silence the rest of the way to my house. Mother had already mentioned that she had tailored Chloe a Reaping dress in her spare time, and it would be an insult if she didn't wear it. But luckily, Chloe didn't care. She and my mother got along very well, and Chloe would do anything for her. If mom gave her a giant yellow tracker-jacker dress to wear, she would do so without complaint. She'd probably even thank her for it. But Chloe was just perfect like that.

My house is fairly nice for District Twelve, considering I am a merchant child, though I certainly don't look it. Instead of the stereotypical blonde hair and blue eyes, I have ebony hair and hazel eyes, suiting me much more for the Seam than the Merchants. I guess that's why I've bonded so much with the kids down there.

Mother greets us at the door, and immediately pulls Chloe away and off to her room, much to my displeasure. She hollers something over her shoulder about myself getting ready, and then for me to make sure that Azriel is ready. Inside I mentally groan.

My twin and I do not have the best relationship. We haven't for a while now. Azriel and I are polar opposites; he prefers to be lazy, I like hard work; he cuts corners, I make sure to do it right; he's a self-serving person, I try to help out others whenever I can. And the differences don't stop there. But if I try to name them all, I'll miss the Reapings.

I decide to deal with Azriel later, and instead head to my room. I had chosen my clothes the night before, so getting ready didn't take me long. A red dress shirt, with black dress shoes, pants, and a tie for extra measure. Now if only I could fix my hair... Forget it. It'd take too long. So I just grab the brush on top of my nightstand and run it through a few times. The brush does virtually nothing, and my hair is the same messy mop it always is.

Dragging my feet out the door and through the hall, I eventually find myself at my brother's door. I knock first, but there's no answer. So instead of doing it again and wasting my effort, I let myself in. Azriel is still sleeping, of course. Did I really expect him not to be?

I lean down and grip the underside of his mattress, then with one swift tug, Az goes tumbling to the floor. He awakens with a startle, and I can't help but smile. There isn't many times when I have the pleasure of seeing my brother with such a surprised and slightly-scared expression on his face, I might as well enjoy it. "Time to get up Azzie. The Reapings start in an hour." I say with a laugh.

Azriel glares up at me with an expression of hatred, and not just because of how I chose to wake him. He hates when I refer to him as 'Azzie'. It was his fault though, really. I had picked up the nickname from one of his old girlfriends, who made the mistake of calling him 'Azzie' when I actually met her. Since then, he has never lived down the nickname, and he probably never will.

Azriel tries to throw his clock at me, but the idiot didn't unplug it from the wall, and it barely went two feet. I laugh again as I leave his room and make my way back to the front foyer. Perhaps if I'm lucky, Chloe will be ready to go as well.

But no one has perfect luck. And for the next half hour, I am forced to wait with my father for mother and Chloe. Even Azriel joins us after fifteen minutes. The wait is worth it though, when I first catch sight of her coming down the hallway.

Chloe has on a floor length, blue-gray gown with a strapless top. Everything falls loose from the waist down, while above that is very careful and delicate stitching that must have taken a week at the least. But it's perfect, and she looks like an angel, much less a Seam girl. And right now I know that everything will be ok, no matter what happens later today. It'll all work out, and in the end, I'll still have my angel.

Neko Reoko

It's about mid morning, and there's a nice breeze blowing through the air. But get to high, and it actually feels a bit chilly. How do I know this? Because I'm perched outside of an attic window on a tree. The breeze is blowing a lot stronger up here than it was on the ground, and I'm wishing I had thought to grab my jacket.

Katana is further out on the limb, making her way to the window. Luckily, this tree takes us pretty close, to where it's only a few feet away. There are some trees that put us at more than five feet away from the edge of the lower roof. And your only choices are to turn back or jump.

There's a slight noise from below, causing both myself and Katana to freeze in place. Carefully, we look down to find the old mayor making his way out the door and down to the square. Though the Reapings still didn't start for a good half hour, it was always customary that the mayor arrive before any of the towns people.

His appearance causes Katana to send me a hard glare. It had been my job to make sure he had already left. But in my defense, he had left before. He must have just come back. I wonder if he left something behind.

Katana's thin and agile frame move soundlessly at they make it to the edge of the limb. Then, she carefully slides down to where she's hanging in mid air. She swings back and forth over and over again until she has built up enough momentum behind her to secure the jump. And when she does, she lands perfectly and on her feet, further proving my theory that she is part cat.

I follow in suit, and repeat the same process that Katana did, landing me right next to her. My landing is not as graceful, but it does the job. Looking back, I try to determine how difficult it will be to come back out, just in case the old man tries to return home yet again. I forgot how high up the attic was at the mayor's house we hadn't been here in so long. The heights used to bother me slightly, but not anymore. When you spend the majority of your time up in trees, breaking into houses through the attics, you get used to all that comes with it, including the height.

Katana and I slide effortlessly in through the unlocked attic window, and are immediately greeted with the smell of musty air. Granted, it wasn't the worst one we had been in, but it certainly wasn't the best either. Which, come to think of it, was really weird. You'd think the mayor's house would be the nicest. I guess no one pays attention to the attics.

The floorboards are squeaky, but being a thief teaches you to be light on your feet, and to think light thoughts. We make it down the stairs and into the main home easily, where we split up and start collecting items. The key to being a good thief is taking things no one will miss, or likely even notice is missing. Small things, like paperweights, rings, and maybe even a book or too. And when it comes to food, you only take in portions. It's easier to come back later to get whatever else you need because they don't even know the first amount is missing.

That's what Katana is doing; getting food. She's in charge of our meals, while I go for the could-be valuables. I search the house, and pick out a few things that will go unnoticed, or are small enough that he'll just think he lost them. So when I pick out everything I think would be best, I meet Katana by the backdoor, where she has a small bag of food in her hands.

We sneak out the backdoor quickly, and make a dash down the street. Stealing is a crime punishable by death, and I for one have no plans on dying today. We run and run until we feel a comfortable enough distance away to slow our pace to a walk. Since everyone was probably already at the Reapings, we feel certain that no one has seen our theft.

We walk the rest of the way to the Reapings, and arrive rather late. Beffie Trinket -Effie Trinket's daughter- our escort, had already called the guys name. I know this because there is a tall, albeit lanky guy standing on the stage. Weird. Beffie always calls the girls first.

As Katana and I slide into the fourteen year olds section undetected, I take more time to study our new male tribute. If I have to guess, he is probably an eighteen year old. Which actually, really sucks. He was one year away from being free, and then he got Reaped. I'd hate to be in his position.

He looks terrified -and who could blame him?- but what confuses me is that his eyes never leave the girl's eighteen section. His ebony hair and hazel eyes mark him more for a Seam-dweller than a merchant kid, but I don't think I've ever seen him down there before. And he doesn't have the almost customary black hair gray eyes like most Seam kids do. Like Katana does, and like I do, really. The only difference I have from regular Seam people are my amber eyes.

While I'm still evaluating our male tribute, Beffie calls out the female tributes name. What was it again? There are whispers all around and I try to scan the crowd for the unfortunate girl. But then Beffie repeats the name, "Neko Reoko?" and it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I'm going into the Hunger Games. Me.

Hey guys! The Reapings are done! And I couldn't be more thrilled :) How do you think I did? I think it could have been better, but I'm satisfied with the final product. Now, onto a more important matter: SPONSORING.

Yes, I'm going to have tribute sponsoring, and this is how it'll work: You MAY NOT sponsor your own tribute. Each chapter you review (starting now), you will earn two sponsor points. You may hold onto these points, or invest them into a tribute. Once you invest them, they cannot be used for any other tribute. Once you have enough sponsor points invested in a tribute, you can send them gifts. If the tribute you are sponsoring dies, you WILL NOT get your sponsor points back. Sound good?

Along with reviewing, you can also answer my trivia questions for two extra sponsor points. The first correct answer, whether from PM or review, gets the points. If you continually get the questions right, your sponsor points will build up quite a bit before the first actual arena chapter. Here's the firs one:

Trivia Question #1: The book series The Secret Circle is about a group of what?

And that's it! I hope to get the next chapter out (the train rides) by next Wednesday, but I can't say for sure that it will be. Oh! And I created a forum for this story :) Just go to my profile for the link. It will mainly talk about my progress in the story, but I might give away some interesting details too. And I have a poll I want you guys to vote in as well. So go check it out! :)

xoxoElenaxoxo