Author's note: Hello everyone! This is my first story, but that doesn't mean you should take it easy on me as far as reviews. It also means it won't be terrible (I hope). Please leave honest reviews, and I'll try to respond to as many as possible. (:

I nonchalantly walk around my village, saying goodbye to anyone I know, without letting them sense I'm actually leaving. Today is the reaping, and it's not like I'm worried I'll get chosen or anything, I mean, I'm going to volunteer anyways. Not because I want the glory for my district, but I don't care about that, we get winners so often; they can take care of 'glory'. At 18, you're either chosen to become a peacekeeper, or work in the stone quarries. It's a shitty life, if you really think about it. District 2 is so close to the capitol because we understand that they can't be overrun. Can't beat em, join em, right? But in retrospect, our workers are treated no better than District 12 miners are.

At the age of 4, children are to start their education in public or private schools, the difference being private schools can have special rules, like all boy, or requiring a high grade. This mainly led to snobs who volunteer in the games, but die because they're ego is too big. Mine is pretty damn large, but I know how to strategize. Anyways, you're put through full time schooling until the age of 8, where you start having half days of school, then a midday break. After the break you're off to Peacekeeping, which is a legitimate training source of Peacekeepers, but it's mainly preparation for the Games, if you're 'lucky' enough to get chosen. District 2 honestly is smarter than all other districts. We win the most, because we realized the best way to make your children come home is to train them, sure, it's technically illegal, but you want your kid to survive. At the age of 14, you and your parents mutually decide on what you want to put most of your time in, Peacekeeping training, or school. Needless to say, most of our population choose Peacekeeping.

A loud high pitched whistle brings me out of my trance, and I realize I don't have much time to get home to prepare for the reaping. I break out into a sprint, and dash for my decent sized home. By the time I get there, my faced is flushed, and I smell like rotting sweat. Once I pass through the door, my mother pinches her nose, and melodramatically yells "Cato, are you planning on killing everyone at the reaping with that stench?" My father gives a light chuckle before warning me to hurry up; we have to get to the central plaza in 15 minutes, which means we have to leave in 10. I stride up the stairs, skipping a step with each leap.

I quickly hop into the shower, washing myself thoroughly, and then jump out almost as quick as I went in. I throw on the clothes I've had prepared for a week now, and gaze across my room for the last time. I look at the clock on my nightstand and see I have 5 minutes left to spare. I take this time to go downstairs and cherish my younger brother and sister, twins. They both have dirty blonde hair, and green eyes. I'm assured that I'll see them again, so it's not so bad, but it will be a couple of weeks.

"Time to go, we don't want to be late." says my father, standing by the door looking at all of us expectantly. "Come on, rascals. Let's get to the plaza." and with that, I swing Zircon and Citrine over my arms and carry them out, all the while they're giggling maniacally. I set them down soon after we get outside, and start to mask my facial expressions, just in case any cameras are spread this far out.

Once we reach the plaza, I make sure to be standing as far back as possible in order to have enough walking distance to impress. A tall woman stiffly walks up to the microphone wearing a blood red dress, with a sharp hourglass shape. Along with her dark hair, and jet black evening gloves that sharpen at her fingers, she could pass for a Black Widow. After watching President Snow's video, she cuts straight to the point and chooses a girl's name. "Clove" she states loud and clearly, and in no time at all you see a confident, proud Clove marching up onto the stage. I wish my district partner would have been someone I didn't know, but it's too late to back out.

I quietly sigh, and wait for her to finish introducing Clove. "And now, for the bo-" "I volunteer as tribute." I yell loudly, and then start to immediately walk onto the stage, not allowing protest from my siblings whom I've already heard cries from. Once I'm on the stage, I turn toward the Plaza and start to talk. "Cato. 17. Man, not boy." She looks at me in slight shock, and I look into her deep purple eyes. She smirks and I know I've made my impression. "Well, congratulations to this year's District Two tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor."