The 25th Hunger Games!

Sileas Wintersong
Sileas looked into the mirror, her dark eyes staring back intensely into her own. Today was the reaping and Sileas was jittery with nerves. Personally, she didn't want to die herself, if she was reaped, that is. If she was voted for, then she would be grateful it wasn't any of her brothers. She looked down at her dress and sighed. It was a simple red one that she found in her closet. It was down to her knees and had big black buttons on it.

"Hey, Si." Sileas turned around to see her twin Milo standing in the doorway. His puppy dog eyes were wide and his expression blank. He looked as scared as she felt. HE was wearing all black.

"It's time to go," he said, "Come downstairs." Sileas followed him out of her room, down the steps, and into the living room where all the rest of her family was gathered. Her two older brothers, Shamas and Lawrence, her little brother Emett, and her parents. Her father was grim while her mother was staring at the wall with a blank expression.

"Come along." My father spoke with a gruff voice that indicated the grief he was holding back. We followed him and my mother in a single file line. The way the reaping worked in District 11 was that each child had a box, unbeknownst to them which one theirs were. Each older person knew which box was which child's and put their name in the box. Whichever box had the most slips in it was the reaped child. The boxes was separated between male and female.

"Hello everyone and welcome to the reaping!" said a voice, booming throughout the square. The voice came from a chirpy woman from the capitol. She had a bright pink wig and her makeup was such an assault on the senses that Sileas had to wince.

"All of the children please stand up here in a single file line!" said the woman. We did as we were told, lining up quietly and without complaint. We stood there, gazes straight and stoic. The adults moved around, putting their name into their choice of box. After that was complete, the people backed away, heads bowed. The woman came up to the boxes and inspected each one. Finally, she grabbed one from the female section and one from the male section. She returned to the front and looked at the box in her right hand.

"Our first child, a male," she said cheerfully, "Is... Benett Wolfe!" Complete silence. The kid, Benett, stepped forward, head bowed.

"Congratulations, Benett!" said the woman, "Such an honor to have a chance to make your family proud! Now, let's see who voted for you!" As she rattled off the list of names, Sileas studied the boy. He couldn't have been more than twelve and he obviously was tough. His dirty arms and calloused hands indicated that. His head was down so she couldn't see his face, but she could tell he was crying. His shoulders shook a little and his hands were clasping open and closed.

"And now," continued the woman, "Time for our female!" She took out the box and Sileas held her breath, waiting for the name.

"Sileas Wintersong!" Sileas' eyes widened and she stepped forward. She could see Shamas' eyes widen in horror and Lawrence's hands clenched into fists.

"Now let's see who voted for you!" chirped the woman. Sileas listened but most of the names swept by her without problem. Except one.

"Carson Wintersong." Sileas' head snapped up and she met her father's gaze. Carson... He'd voted her into the Hunger Games. He'd voted her into death...

District seven was today, I repeated in my mind. I had been thinking this over the past week. I wasn't too concerned, as there were many people in my district. Thankfully, I wasn't concerned for my younger siblings, as neither of them were old enough for the reaping. We were all dressed nicely for the occasion. Unlike some of the less-fortunate districts, district seven is pretty well off. I'm dressed in a navy blue dress.

My hair is done elaborately. As elaborate as it can get when it's cut this short, anyhow, which means that I've just clipped a black bow into it. I'm wearing black flats. My sister is dressed in a matching outfit, and my brother in a button-down dress shirt and black slacks.

I look around my room, thinking about how I'll be back in only an hour or two. Every house is made of wood. Wood this, wood that, the town seems to only have one color. I'm called downstairs. My mother and father, like myself, aren't concerned. Back when they were young, not them, nor their friends and family were affected.

We were ushered into the square of the town. I merged into the lines of teenagers, waiting to get my blood sampled, and my name written down on a slip of paper. I join the crowd of children. There is nothing to differentiate me from the others. An entire sea of children. There was almost no chance that I would get picked.

I was snapped out of my reverie when I heard the bright, fluttery voice of Isobel Maxim, speaking into a microphone. She's wearing that ridiculous pink wig again. She reminds us about the history of the Hunger Games, and gets emotional at the end like it's some sort of ridiculous story to ogle over. It's shameful.

"Ladies first?" Isobel suggested. The glass bowl was overfilling with names. She plunged her hand into the paper, and drew out a name near the bottom. "Congratulations, Audrey Colden! You were voted to join by Jordan Regan!"

My breath felt like it was ripped out of my throat. I look back to the crowd and see my family. They look like someone has slapped them across the face. I could see myself walking towards the stage, though I'm stuck in a sort of dream-like state. I can process nothing of what I'm seeing, until I trip over the steps leading up to the stage. I can hear a couple giggles in the crowd. Relieved giggles. I feel disgust mingle with my sorrow and anger as I join Isobel up on the stage.

"Now, for the gentlemen." Isobel says. She plucks a name off the top. "Jonothan Clark,"

A tall and gangly boy steps out from the crowd. His face is as white as the paper we produce in the factories. Isobel yells some sort of closing speech. Before I knew it, we were ushered into the building by peacekeepers.

Drenched in fear, Althea shuddered as the concrete giants towered over, imprisoning her in the region where fate would be decided. As she pushed onwards through the crowd, her father's face of sorrow haunted her thoughts. With tears tricking down his face, he had given a weak smile to comfort her, as she closed the door and left him at their home. Disguised behind cold eyes, Althea's heart fluttered at the thought of his suffering. Nothing struck them more forcefully than the Reaping Day.

Taking a deep breath, she continued pressing forward; an ocean of familiar faces surrounding her. The faces of District 10 were drained of colour, their eyes darting around the room, with nervous anticipation.

Infront, a small girl stumbled. Her shoulders were hunched as she walked with her eyes focused on the ground. Althea could hear her soft wimper as she was pushed and pulled in different directions between those who barely noticed her. She seemed lost, she couldn't see where she needed to go.

Althea frowned and reached out her arm, grabbing the girl's hand with a firm grip. Gasping, the girl stared up at Althea in alarm, her face scrunched accusingly.

"Why would I want yourhelp, man-lady?" She asked, scowling. Then angrily, she staggered away, and was swallowed by the great walking mass.

Startled, Althea felt her cheeks flush red. Even the little ones were in on the joke now. She sighed, and brushed away the sniggers and sneers of the past. Like plucking the wings from a butterfly, they had tormented and tortured Althea for years. But maybe today she'd be chosen, and leave it all forever.

Althea drew closer to the raised platform which staged a man from the Capitol perched behind a podium. His blue hair was luminous and eyebrows contrasted with a vibrant orange. Masked by an enchanting smile were cruel intentions; the crunching of bones and the splattering of blood made him clap with joy. He was just like the rest of the Capitol, and everybody knew it.

"Greetings children of District 10! We are gathered here today for the 25th Hunger Games- I hope you're all as excited as I am! I'm Victor Classenberry and I shall be revealing to you whose won the opportunity to honour this District! Now, let's get on with the story and glory of Panem!"

From the ceiling a screen rolled down , and presented a video explaining the same history that Althea had heard year after year. Enthusiastic voices babbled about the Dark Days; the sound bounced off the walls with blaring volume.

The Hunger Games was a reminder to the districts that the Dark Days, and revenge against the Capitol, must never be repeated. If they dared to rebel there would be consequences of great severity. It was no bluff, they had witnessed the shattering of lives in explosions of fire and pain. There was no need for a reminder.

Once the video had finally ended, Victor cheerfully clapped and grinned, but the audience remained silent. Ignoring this, he continued.

" Let's get on with the show , shall we?"

With another clap, two glass cylinders were carried onto the stage. One for the boys, and one for the girls. They contained flutters of paper tickets, each with names of potential District 10 fighters; ages 12 to 18.

Althea was unsure how many tickets were stamped with her name, but she knew extra had been added, when she'd been caught exploring. Those days with Toby were the best of her life. She'd never regret it.

In an instance, Victor closed his eyes and groped for a ticket from the boys section. Ruffling the tickets at the bottom of the cylinder, he eventually chose one, and fished it out from the pile.

"And the winner is..."

There was a long pause. Silence slithered into the room as Victor kept them waiting for his own pleasure. Agitated, the children glared.

"Puck Caverly! Congratulations!"

Victor lifted his head and scanned the crowd for some movement. He had expected to find a delighted, willing face springing up from the crowd. But nothing stirred.

"Don't be shy now, Puck." Victor said more sternly, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief as he glared at the peacekeepers. Instantly, they marched through the audience, guns and batons held tightly in their arms; urgently searching for Puck Caverly.

Confused, the entire audience glanced around the area. How did Puck escape Reaping Day? Althea sniggered with the thought. This was Puck Caverly- top prankster of District 10. Of course he could get out of Reaping Day.

"Umm.. Guys? I'm up here?"

And there he was. Proudly, a boy stood smirking on the stage. Puck gave a little wave as he swept the black mop of hair away from his face. A few of his friends laughed, but were hushed by the peacekeepers who threatened with weapons.

"Let's get on with the show, shall we?" Puck mimicked, winking at Victor who was peering up at the stage, enraged. Quickly, his furious expression vanished to a grin, stitched from cheek to cheek. He then laughed and clambered back onto the stage.

"Certainly! Wonderful, just wonderful! How did you do it?" Victor questioned.

"My name's Puck Caverly, I'm 17, and I'm going to win this thing!" He laughed, whilst checking out his reflection in the shine from the stage floor.

Perplexed, Victor scowled at the boy who emitted masses of arrogance and pride. Where was his fear? Victor shrugged, and then continued.

"Next up, the ladies."

Again, Victor stretched into the giant cylinder, touching every ticket with the tip of his fingers. After much delay, Victor chose the ticket he wanted. But this time, didn't hesitate to give the answer.

"Althea Naphpro!"

A shock of fear surged through Althea's veins, as every head turned to face her. Althea Nathpro. The name rang through her head over and over. Could it be? Nervously, she stumbled towards the beckoning finger of Victor. Her jaw dropped with realisation. It was her. Althea had been chosen.

Kaya Odyssey

The window was still open, as she'd left it, and Kaya quickly climbed hand over hand up the wall, with the help of the vines growing against her house. The small piece of equipment bumped against her back as she pulled herself over the windowsill and into her bedroom. It was a small room and bare except for the numerous technical drawings plastered to her walls and building mountains on her desk, all covered in the same small and scrawling handwriting.

Kaya unstrapped the propeller from her back and immediately began attaching it to a machine in the middle of the wooden floor. The sound of footsteps approached from down the hall and stopped outside her door.

"Kaya? Are you getting up?" It was her father's voice and his sharper tone suggested this wasn't the first time of asking.

"I'm up - be down in a minute!" Kaya called back, hurriedly screwing the new piece of machinery into place and reaching for the on switch. She flicked it on at the same time the screw locked in and a low whirring sound started coming from the machine as the cogs and pipes launched into life and after a painful minute, the propeller started to turn.

"It works," Kaya whispered. "It works!"

"Kaya!" Her father's voice was a shout this time and Kaya ficked the switch off, grabbed her back from beside the door and opened it, hurrying by her father and to the stairs.

"I'm ready, I'm ready," Kaya insisted as she descended the stairs two at a time, dashed into the kitchen and dropped into a chair at the table. Her mother turned from the stove covered a smile with her hand as she reached out with the other to pull some stray undergrowth out of Kaya's hair.

"It's the day of the reaping," her father said in a slightly exasperated tone as he took the seat next to her. "Can't you stay inside for just one morning?"

Kaya sighed and mumbled an apology but she didn't mean it; the best trading always took place in the morning, even on reaping day. Usually Kaya felt a deeper sense of guilt but this year the tributes had been chosen by their district so the odds were against someone as beneath notice as Kaya being picked and for once she could get through a Reaping morning without that lurching worry in her stomach.

The conversation took a lighter turn after that and Kaya's father filled them in on the details of his latest invention while Kaya kept silently smug on her own.

"Just when are you going to give us a demonstration?" her dad asked.

"Soon. Next week - I think," Kaya replied.

"I'm sure it will be worth the wait." Kaya's mum planted a small kiss on her forehead as they left the house and headed for the centre of town together. The children were called on to line up and Kaya hugged both her parents before finding a place near Cobalt and Flint.

"Ladies first!" the woman from the Capitol announced as she unfolded a piece of paper. It was a larger piece than normal and the woman hesitated, but Kaya was certain it was for dramatic effect and not because the name was hard to read. Especially when she suddenly called out in a clear and well pronounced voice: "Kaya Odyssey."

The world went still. Kaya felt her chest swell and realised she'd forgotten to take a breath so she did, slowly, but the air tasted like metal - had she bitten her tongue?

"Kaya, can you put your hand up for me please, lovely? Why don't you come join me at the front?"

Kaya caught Cobalt's eye and he looked sick, like he was going to hurl, while Flint wouldn't even look at her. Somehow her feet started moving and she stepped toward the dais as a loud roar came from the crowd:

"Not my daughter. She's my daughter. who put her name in? How dare you!"

Kaya didn't think she'd ever heard her father sound so angry and despite her trembling hands and the terrible prospect of entering the Hunger Games, for just this moment, she was glad he wasn't angry at her.

The woman from the Capitol put her hands on Kaya's shoulders and she could feel the long nails pressing against her skin and wished she was wearing her overalls, which would have offered more protection than the sleeveless dress her mother insisted was 'too adorable' to not be worn.

"Well shall we find out who some of them were?" the lady from the Capitol asked. Kaya swallowed hard and from the crowds' expressions and the tightening of her father's frown, she was pretty sure that nobody was going to enjoy hearing who had given her this death sentence. Least of all Kaya herself.

Caius Matho

It was still early in the morning when he woke, as he always did. Of course, this morning was unlike any other, for it was the morning. The morning of the Reaping. Caius' mouth pulled ever so slightly at the corners, the closest he could come to smiling anymore.

Finally. Truly, no words could adequately describe the feelings surging through the young man as he sat up, throwing the woolen blankets aside in his excitement. The world was still asleep in this hour, and only the birds spoke through the misty silence. Caius pushed himself up from the bed, the floorboards creaking as he did so.

"Caius!" He flinches as his mother's voice permeates the walls of his room. So much for a quiet moment.

"Yes, mother?"

"Are you going to accompany us to the Reaping or stay in bed all day?" He almost flinches at her tone, seeing the clear contempt on her face, even through the walls. Of course she is aware that the Reaping will not take place for another several hours, and Caius' almost-smile disappears, even faster than it had arrived.

She will not risk attempting to harm me on the day of the Reaping....

"You know as well as I that you are not welcome to accompany me this day, mother."

The movement that he had heard so clearly downstairs stops suddenly as his words fade into the air and Caius can only imagine her thoughts, her face as his blatant challenge is registered. For a few more seconds, the only sounds are his heartbeat until finally, stomping steps retreat to the door, which promptly slams shut. He lets out a sigh of relief before getting dressed, pulling a plain black shirt on and grabbing a pair of nylon training pants. His usual combat boots complete the look, and he slips silently through the front door, luckily avoiding waking the beast that is his father.

------------------------

Several hours pass, spent as they would be any other day training in the now empty combat gym in the near-center of the district. On any day but the day of the Reaping, this place would be filled with men and women preparing for the day they are hopefully chosen for the legendary Hunger Games. This morning, it is all but silent. Caius showers and, after changing into his Reaping Day clothes, his only clothes without training purpose, he walks to the great building, where Peacekeepers have already taken up their positions surrounding the square.

His eyes are hard and steely while his blood is drawn, and his voice is cold when asked for his name. "Caius Matho, age 18." The administrator is hardly finished writing when the massive young man walks away from the table and to the very edge of the stage. Slowly, others filter into the square, some visibly and audibly excited, some somberly and morose.

He looks around to those that come up to stand near him, long and hard enough to compel them to move farther away and his thoughts are clear on his face; I will be the male tribute of this district. Try and stop me, and you will not live long enough to die in the Games.

The others of his home district no doubt were eager to be selected in the Reaping, this, Caius would not deny. But he knew, as a fact, that they had not given themselves so completely to it as he had. They knew this too, as over the years, many had tried to discourage him, and none had remained able to stand afterwards. He had no friends, that much was true, but he also had no enemies... none that were brave enough to challenge his right to fight, anyways.

What seemed to be an eternity passed, and finally the outlandish woman that always chose people's names appeared on the stage, heralded by a group of Peacekeepers through the massive doors of the District's Town Hall. Silence fell upon the crowd.

"Ladies ad Gentlemen! Welcome! Welcome to the Reaping of the Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games! What an honor it is to be here!" Caius' scowl deepens as her grating voice fills the cement square. Everything about her annoys him, and his discomfort at the tight collar of his suit only adds to his complete displeasure. She drones on, despite the death-glare he levels at her gaudy pink wig.

She monologues through her usual spiel about the history of the Hunger Games, with the younger citizens listening intently, while others all but roll their eyes in painful boredom. Finally, the time comes for the tributes to be chosen.

"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for!" She pauses for effect, her clear hope that someone will laugh at her poor humour vanishing after it is met with silence. She produces an envelope, handed to her by the Peacekeepers. Caius has already begun moving towards the stage, but stops and waits directly opposite the stairs as she reads aloud the name on the small slip of paper. "Caius Matho!" He takes the few steps onto the great stage and takes his place next to the obnoxious woman. "With an overwhelming majority vote, it seems like you're the popular choice for this year's Quarter Quell! Congratulations!"

"District Two, welcome your newest Tribute!"

The silent square erupts into applause, and though clearly some are dissapointed by their inability to compete this year, others appear to be relieved that a good physical specimen will represent them in the coming Games.

The clapping and cheering dies down now, and the woman pulls a second envelope from her dress. "District Two, your female Tribute is-!"

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Spoiler

I hope this was alright. I only now realized that it was probably a little long...... I will cut it down if necessary xD Either I will continue the post or she will once SkyeWalker has submitted her CP for the other District Two tribute

Farana "The Piranha" Pratt

Farana grinned as she followed the rest of the careers forward, into the roped off area. She was dressed fully in camo trousers, shirt and jacket. She beamed a smile at a Peacekeeper as he tied off the rope at the entrance, after herding the last of the 17 year-olds in. He ignored her and instead turned towards the front of the crowd, where Kurt Zerphax, the big, muscly Capitol representative has just come up on stage.

Smiling at everyone, who in looked uneasily back at him (And his fluorescent orange mohawk), he called out in his trademark booming voice, "Welcome, children of District 4!" and he turned his face to all the children at the front, his big gold hoop earrings shaking as he did so.

The Careers were all at the front of their groups, including Farana, all eagerly anticipating the coming reaping-that is, with the exception of Drake, who hung at the back of the rest, looking gloomily at the ground.

What's got him so down? thought Farana, You'd think he'd at least be excited by the thing we've been prepared all our lives for.

Suddenly, he looked up at her with an intimidating glare, and she turned away, immediately cursing herself for her timidness. There was just something about him...something that made everyone immediately afraid. It was infuriating, and frankly, Farana was envious. That'll make people in the Games immediately feel on the back foot. Why don't I have that kind of influence? But she turned away as Kurt finished greeting the careers in a pretentiously loud voice and got to the interesting part:the actual reaping.

Faran grinned. Her mentor, Dolanus, had campaigned hard in the District to get her the most votes, but she knew that Ratra, the third ranked candidate was more social, and was better known by the public, so it would be a close race.

"Ladies first." he said, smiling broadly at the girls, displaying his seven gold teeth, and took an envelope from the hands of the nearest Peacekeeper and opened it, before looking up.

Farana sucked in a breath, praying hard that she would the one selected. "It was tight race," he started. "But by a slim margin of eleven votes, the winner is...Farana Pratt!"
And he started clapping, soon followed by the audience, mixed in with the groans of those who'd lost their bets on the Reaping.

Farana couldn't beliver her ears! She was incredibly happy. She marched up the stage, and waved at the audience, bringing on more cheers, and even whistles.

Kurt patted her on the back and congratulated her before turning back to the audience. "Show's not over yet, folks!" he joked, but only a few laughed. Looking a little miffed by the less than enthusiastic response at his attempt at humor, he continued in a plain voice, "Right, let's get to the gentlemen."

Falco Pixel

As the names of everyone who voted for Kaya Odyssey to be the girl tribute were read out, even though Falco felt the familiar anger coursing through his veins, he couldn't help smiling at his little sister in relief. Peregrine got to fly free for another year. There was also a fear in his chest though; this was Falco's last year. This was the last year when if his sister was selected, he might volunteer alongside her. So it was true there were only two more years when she could be chosen, but there were no years left for him to protect her.

"Well, let's move on to our male tribute then, shall we?" The woman from the Capitol had taken a step back from Mr. Odyssey, which left her teetering on the edge of the platform.

Most of the named men and women had taken more than one step back and even those whose names had not been called out had all edged away so that there was a circle of space around the inventor and his wife. Falco didn't know the Odyssey's well, except that their daughter was a bit of an outcast, but a friendly one. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to vote for-

"Falco Pixel. Can we have Falco Pixel up here, please?"

There was a scream from the crowd and it almost sounded like his mother, but she hadn't screamed like that since the men from the factory came to tell them that his dad was, that dad was-

"Who, me? I can't believe it, I've never won anything in my life," Falco called out loudly. His voice didn't waver and what he felt right now wasn't fear but disgust. How dare they vote for Kaya. How dare they vote for him. How dare they vote for anyone and how dare the Capitol make a game of people's lives like this! Falco raised his hands as he walked to the edge of the platform. "Well, other than all those prizes for being the best technician, and the top of my class and maybe a beauty contest or two."

He lifted one leg on to the platform and then tried to lift the other but suddenly a mass was attached to it and he looked down on a mop of dark hair and a bundle of folded, ashen limbs. From that level of detail, it could have been almost anyone in their district of pale faced, dark haired children, but Falco knew.

"Falco." Her voice was a shaky whisper and her arms clung tighter. "You can't leave us. Not you too."

But Falco had to go because nobody was going to volunteer for him. Because he had no more years left now anyway so if he couldn't volunteer to protect his sister, maybe it was better if he wasn't here to hear them call her name. Because he knew already that this was a death sentence and every second he told himself it wasn't, it was another second lying to himself and to her. And his mother. And all the district who were losing the best technician they might ever have.

Falco disentangled Peregrine gently and was surprised to see Mrs Odyssey coming forward to hold her steady. Falco didn't know much about the Odyssey's but suddenly he knew what he had to do. He was too old to protect Peregrine and he couldn't give her the stable life she needed but if the Odysseys saw him fight hard to protect their daughter, if he sent her home to them, then maybe Peregrine would become like their own. They'd feed her and clothe her with all the riches which would come from their district winning the games and maybe, just maybe, if Peregrine's name was called next year then Kaya Odyssey would feel honour bound to save his sister as he had saved her.

Falco smiled as he stepped on to the platform and he swore in his heart that Kaya Odyssey would be the victor of the Hunger Games.

June Hellswift

The dress was too tight.
June hadn't been able to afford one the right size. The dress was made for a ten year old's size, not a thirteen year old. The tightness made it hard to run. It was hard enough living a normal life in District 12, and that's without having no family and living on the streets. June hated depending on other's generosity, but what choice did she have? Besides, living on the streets had toughened her and helped her get faster.
June walked up to the reaping stage and took her place. She knew she was going to be reaped. She had no friends, no one to miss her when she was gone. Some people probably didn't even know her name. She remembered the fear of last year, but she hadn't been picked, even though she had to take a tesserae. I know that I will be the female tribute, but who will be the male? She looked around at the boys. Finally, a speaker turned on. A loud, booming voice came from it. "Welcome to the twenty-fifth hunger games! I know you are all very exited about representing your district, but we must first go over the history of the Hunger Games!" The pink haired lady's voice droned on and on. June began to fall asleep standing up.
"Now for your female tribute!" the woman seemingly yelled into the microphone, waking June up. An envelope was handed to the lady and she gingerly opened it. "District twelve's female tribute is... June Hellswift! Come join us up on stage June!"
June's heart stopped. She began to black out from fear, but she pulled herself together and forced her legs up the steps to the stage. Her foot caught on the top step and she fell, her tight dress ripping in the back, revealing her bra clasp. She heard snickers from the crowd.
"Oh June dear!" the woman rushed from the microphone and gave June her bright pink blazer. June put it on as her face burned. The jacket contrasted insanely with her floral print dress. They walked towards the middle of the stage as June's face continued to burn.
"Quite the show!" the woman joked, "But we must continue on to the male tribute." Another envelope was handed to her. "The male tribute is... Gren Pront!" A scream was heard.
"Gren! My baby Gren! He can't have been chosen! It's his first year!"
A boy about June's age was walking towards the stage. His steps echoing in the now silent area. He joined them at the middle of the stage.
"Would you like to find out who voted for your tributes?" the woman addressed the crowd. She started listing off names of people that voted for June. All but three people had. She hung her head. The lady again started to list names, but for Gren this time. "Celia Newman, Richard Pront..." There was yelling in the crowd. June could only make out a few words in between the peacekeeper's yells. "...Could you?"
"Less... Provide for!" There was a screech as Gren's mother was infuriated. Her son had voted for his own brother.
"You want me to have less children to provide for? Fine! Don't come home!" The enraged woman yelled as she was escorted from the scene.
The pink haired woman had ignored what was going and and finished the list. "District twelve! Your twenty-fifth hunger games tributes!"