Young Writers Society

Name: Jericho

Age: 15 (he will turn 16 during the fight)

Gender: Male

District: 7

Personality: flirty, funny, chill, hyperactive when in a group

Appearance: 5'11'', medium build, relatively tan, dark hair with a blonde birthmark in it, great smile, dimples, no acne whatsoever

Weapon of choice: machetes, hatchets.

Up for love: DEFINATELY (straight of course)

Other: he acts arrogant and overconfident to compensate for his insecurity. He is taking his wooden yin-yang necklace on a leather string into the arena.

TalorLove:

[/spoiler] Thanks darling! I would love to. If you have any ideas, just PM me. [/spoiler]

I will check with thegirlonfire. It would be wonderful to start now, but I want to make sure she is okay with it.

Abby Grace

My heart pounds as I walk to give them my name. They check me off the list and I walk into a section with my friends. I wish each on of them luck. I try my hardest to remain clam and not to burst out into tears. I have to push through. I cannot let fear tear my down.

Effie comes up on stage and tells everyone about the games. I go into my head, trying not to think about it to much. I take deep breaths. It is going to be okay.

All of a sudden I feel a nudge on my back I turn to see my friend pushing me to go. All eyes are on my. I look to the back and see my mother crying. I bite my lip and walk up on stage. My name was drawn in the reaping. It never felt real until I was up on stage.

Jericho:

I feel the eyes of hundreds, maybe thousands, on my tense back as I solemnly swagger up to the podium. I have just been called on as the male tribute from my district. 7. My rage builds up inside of me like a forest fire. Starting off as an anonymous match, then the flames lick and spit, screaming now. Each individual spark attaches itself, like a parasite, to every living thing in the forest. Until there is nothing left. Except for me. I am a dead man walking. In am the District 7 tribute. I am Jericho.

Ebony

I am frozen to the spot. I can't believe what is going on. Everyone is looking at me, their faces mixed with relief and pity. I know what's going through their heads. It's the same thing I would think every year before this that I was chosen.

Everyone is so relieved that they weren't chosen. I was.

Finally, when I seem to get my bearings about me, I take short, choppy steps up to the temporary stage. I don't dare looking at anyone for the fear of breaking down in tears. I don't want to see my family or my friends. I don't want them to come see me off. I'd rather die knowing that they love me than wondering if I'll ever see them again.

I finally reach the stage and turn to stand in front of District 7. Looking out over the crowd, I can see the woods that make up my district. I wish I could jump off of this stage, run to one of the trees, climb up it and hide. I shouldn't have to stand on this stage. I shouldn't have to be forced into the arena. But it's happened to me; the one thing that everyone fears has happened to me.

I've been selected for the Hunger Games.

Jason Barmen- District 12

Effie Trinket bounced onto the stage, straightening her obnoxiously colored curls, her fingers straight in disgust as she looked at the crowd- at us, at me. Of course she'd look at me. I tower above everyone else in my section. I set my jaw and watched her coldly, unwilling to give any reaction.

Her eyes quickly travelled over me, and she took the microphone. I ignored what she said, and looked at the people around me- most were scared, you could tell by the looks on thier faces, some more than others, sobbing, clinging to one another. Few, very few, of us were handling our fear in a respectable manner- crushing it, and pretending that it didn't exist.

I was doing my best to look bored and annoyed- as if coming to the Reaping was nothing more than an inconvienence.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," Effie said.

She was mocking us. Pure scorn- nothing else. I glared at her.

"...anyway, ladies first." She pranced across the stage. "Jackie Rockwell."

A tiny girl walks to the stage, keeping her back to me, so I can't tell her emotions. She wasn't wailing, that much I knew, but I couldn't tell how she taking it.

"Now for the men," Effie says, as she fishes into the bowl. I feel my heart start racing, and I catch my breath, despite myself. I had my name in many times- many siblings had been fed with food bought with chances on my skin.

"Jason Barmen."

I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach, had my head pushed under water, and then pushed down a flight of stairs- I stood stupidly, my breath caught in my chest.

The kids around me parted, most staring at me stupidly, some murmuring condolences. I slammed my mouth shut, and sucked air into my lungs- fist clenched, back rigid, I strode onto the stage.

"Hello Jason," Effie said quietly, smiling cruelly.

I grunted at her.

"I give you your tributes!" Effie trilled, as she snatched my arm, and that of the girl, and lifted them above her head. I let my arm go limp, forcing her to hold the weight of it herself- making it obvious that she was incapable of lifting it much above my shoulder. She resentfully dropped my arm, and hmphed at the solemn crowd.

"Off we go, then," she said, as she shooed us through the big doors at the back of the stage.

Jackie

"Jackie Rockwell!"

Well. That was that. I supposed I should have been more surprised, but really, I felt kind of numb. I had seen this coming for years--with all the tesserae I'd gotten, I must have had my name entered...what? Forty times? Probably more.

I reached for my Rubik's cube, but Tam grabbed my hand. As she opened her mouth to say something, I cut her off. "Listen to me," I said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You'll be fine, alright? Don't worry about a thing. If you ever need anything--" A peacekeeper grabbed my shoulder, and I shrugged him off. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Take it easy! Tam, if you ever need anything, go to Curt, okay? He'll help you. I love you!"

I planted a kiss on Tam's forehead, and followed the peacekeeper up to the stage. As I passed the rows of other kids, my friend Curt Gardner caught my eye. He reached out, squeezed my hand, and gave me a half smile. I smiled back. Tam and my parents would be okay with the Gardners.

I stepped up onto the stage and stood stiffly next to the prissy Capitol lady as she pulled out one of the boys' names. For a moment, I wondered who my fellow tribute would be, but then figured it didn't really matter. As the lady swished her little slips of paper around, I found Tam and Curt in the crowd, and made a goofy face. Tam looked like she needed a little cheering up.

"Now for the men," the prissy lady--Effie, if I had heard her name right--said. "Jason Barmen!"

Jason stood stiffly beside Effie as she lifted our arms. He seemed indifferent, and he was really making Effie work to keep his arm in the air. I gave him a tiny smile, and then let my arm go limp as well. Effie just dropped our arms, huffing with impatience, and led us backstage.

Jade Silverman, District 1:

A scream made me look up from the friend I had been talking to, towards the audience. My mother was trying to fight her way through the peacekeepers. Why was she doing that? Further back I could see my dad. His face was pale and expressionless.

Everyone had gone silent, and as I looked back at my friend I noticed that his mouth was still open, like he had frozen in mid-sentence. Everyone around me was staring, eyes wide with surprise. It was impossible, it simply couldn't be. I hadn't volunteered, so why would my name be picked?

"Jade Silverman, are you there?" the escort for district 1 asked with a smile.

A peacekeeper was walking towards me. I looked towards my mother again. She was no longer fighting with the peacekeepers, but with my father. Screaming, hitting him and gesturing towards me, probably pleading him to do something. My dad didn't even blink. He just stared at the stage with empty eyes.

The peacekeeper had reached me, and took hold of my arm to lead me up on the stage. "This is a mistake. I never volunteered! I'm not a volunteer!"

"Come on kid, don't make me force you up there," the peacekeeper muttered and started to drag me towards the stage.

I kept shouting and pleading to the peacekeeper, to the escort, to the audience and to my parents, but no one seemed to listen. Everyone just stared at me, like they couldn't believe their eyes. Almost everyone. The mayor and the man sitting next to him, that I vaguely remembered seeing in my father office at one point, were looking at my father instead of me. And they were smiling.

"My, my. Getting cold feet? It's too late for that now," the escort joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Most people laughed.

In the distance I could still hear my mother screaming, and it made me realize that I was going to die. Not as a hero from the first district, but as a scared boy who's father couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Clip Lowery- District 10

It was that time again. The peacekeepers were setting up the stage where some capitol flunky was to announce the death sentences of two kids. We gathered in the main square in our best dress. Mom had tried to keep my hat away from me, but if I was going to die, it was coming with me.

She walked up on stage, her dress fluffy and multicolored to match her hair and make up. They were all clowns, the capitols.

"Welcome to the reaping of our 62nd Annual Hunger Games!" she announced joyously. No one made a sound. No one moved.

"Every year we choose a boy and a girl to compete for honor and glory in our country's tradition! Ladies first," she finished before walking to the large glass bowl atop a wooden pedestal.

Everyone held their breath as her gloved hand dipped into the bowl of paper names. Finally she snatched one and opened it with a smirk.

"Alaria Ray!"

Someone immediately began crying as peacekeepers came forward to escort the tribute. It wasn't Alaria crying but her mother, and my sister. My heart skipped a beat when it dawned on me that I knew her, and I was never going to see her again.

She walked up with her head held high and a slight, though uneasy, smile she forced.

Once again the Capitol lady reached into the bowl and pulled out another slip. Opening it slowly, she carefully announced...

"Clip Lowery."

I froze. Of course it would be me. Bad things always happen to me, that wasn't the horrifying part.

Peacekeepers approached and pulled me away while blocking my parents from reaching me. I walked slowly and made it up the stage, looking over at me fellow tribute. She stood a good half foot over me.

The worst part was I was going to have to kill my sister's best friend, or she was going to kill me.

Alaria Ray
I felt horror course through me as Clip came up to stand beside me. He was my best friends brother how could I do this? I looked at the Peacekeepers they looked eager already and I felt my stomach clench with rage and nausea. I reached over and grabbed Clip's hand squeezed it. He slowly squeezed back and I leaned down. "I'm counting on you surviving." I said softly and he tensed surprised. I straightened and caught Clip's sisters eyes. I smiled at her and mouthed 'I love you keep mum safe and he'll come back if I have anything to do with it.' I looked and noticed all the camera's were focused on us and I lifted my chin in defiance. Scared didn't even begin to cover my emotion but they weren't going to see it not at all.

Abby Grace

Thoughts of my family race through my head as we get on the train to ride to the capitol. The hardest part so far, was being strong for my family. It would have been so easy just to break down and cry, but I could not leave them without hope. Before my family had to leave, my mother left me her wedding ring. She slipped it on my right ring finger and told me to be strong for her.


"Abigail, we are here." My mentor says.

"You can call me Abby." I say.

They nod and Liam and I begin to walk off the train. A huge crowd of people surround the train, cheering for us. I do not see the excitement in children being lead to death, but some how their twisted minds do. Our mentor leads us to the place we will be staying.

Right away we are forced to meet our stylist. They are going to make up "presentable" to these people. Mother told me that even thought I might hate these people now, you are going to need them in the arena. I know I will need them, but I do not want to be in the place to need them. I do not want to be here at all. They force me into a room where I am told to wait.

About ten minutes later, a man comes in. He has orange, spiky hair and he is wearing blue eyeliner. "Hello, I am Leonardo and I will be your stylist." He say. "What is your name my dear?" He asks.

"Abigail Grace, but you can call me Abby ." I say.

"Well, Abby darling we are going to get you all ready for the big chariot ride. We are going to clean you up today and tomorrow with be the big day." He says.

I nod and fiddle with my fingers.

"Do you mind standing up for me?" he asks.

I stand up and walk to the middle of the room.

He begins to circle around me. "You have beautiful hair, beautiful eyes, beautiful skin." he says. "No we are going to make you flawless." He claps his hands and members of the prep team come in. The bring me over to a chair and sit me down. They apply stuff to my hair, skin, just every where.

They finish in what feels like hours. The move out of the way and I look at myself in the mirror. My skin is glowing and my hair curls perfectly. I am then rushed out of the room. I slam into a guy and I knock him to the ground, me on top of him. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry." I say. I hurry and get off of him and help him up.

"It's fine. Things are very crazy right now." He says.

I nod. "That they are. What's your name?" I ask.

"Jericho." He say. "Yours?"

"Abby." I say. "I wish we could meet on better terms that this." I say. My mentor is yelling for me to come with her, so I do. "Bye." I say waving, as I get taken off.

Jason Barmen- District Twelve

I couldn't help but feel a little proud of myself for annoying Effie Trinket, even as they led me to small room to await my family. If they even come. I paced back and forth- three steps down, turn, three steps back, my apprehension growing every minute.

I was strong, I knew, and I figured I could take on just about anyone I wanted- but if the Careers teamed up like a hunting party, and everyone knew they would, then I'd be hard pressed for survival. I could team up with someone...that Jackie girl seems pretty cool...might be a good ally.

I consider a piece of wood by the small window, chipping off the sill- I tear it the rest of the way off, and feel the point: sharp. It's only about 5 inches long, but it would work well enough for a weapon. I slide it under my belt.
Maybe I won't need any allies. With any luck I can just kill off a few Peace Keepers, and then be free- live in the woods, go to district 13, something...

"Jase!" My sister was clinging to my waist before I even fully realized she was in the room. I swallowed hard. I was expecting my solemn father to come- to admonish me to be careful. I wasn't prepared to explain to my six year old sister that I was getting ready to face my death- that she was going to have to watch it.

"Hey Dee," I said, as I kneeled and returned her embrace.

"Jase-y, Daddy said that you're going to leave us, but I know he's wrong. Tell him. Tell him Jase that you're not leaving me." Her face was wet with tears as she looked pleadingly into my face.

My stomach tied itself into a knot and I felt sick as I glanced up to find Dad standing in the doorway- face as hard as stone, as always, unreadable.

"Tell him it's not true!" Dee ordered.

I swallowed again. "Well,erm, DeeDee, darling, the thing is..."

"Is what?"

I had to look away from her vulnerable face. "I...have to go away for a while."

"But you're coming back?"

"I...I don't know."

"You have to come back!" she hit my shoulder. "You have to! Say you're coming back!"

I smiled weakly, unwilling to promise her something that I knew wasn't going to happen. "You know that note pad under my mattress that you've always wanted?"

She looked at me suspiciously. "Yeah."

"Well I wrote some poems in it- one for each of you. Can you do something for me?"

Her eyes glittered with the chance to help. "Yeah."

"Okay, good girl. I need you to give everybody the poem that I wrote for them- and then you can keep the rest of the book. How does that sound?"

"Good," she smiled. "I'll keep good care of it until you get back."

"I know you will," I said, as I stood.

"Dee," Dad said. "Why don't you go on home now? I told you that you could only stay with Jase for a few minutes. You've had your time."

"Yes sir," she said sadly, as she gave me another hug, and I returned the embrace.

She reluctantly left. Dad and I stood staring at each other silently for a long moment.

"You think you've got a chance of making it back?" Dad asked at last.

I shook my head.

Dad nodded. "I thought not, with the answer you gave her."

"You don't think I can make it either."

"...there are alot of Tributes..."

"I know," I sighed. "I know."

"Though you can probably take most of them..."

"You think so?"

"You've certainly beat up enough people in your day- though they weren't trying to kill you."

I nodded.

"What I worry about the most is you actually making it into the Arena."

"Which means?"

"Which means I think that you'll make lots of enemies with Peace Keepers before you get there- and the Game Masters besides. You need to be nice."

I snorted.

"Time to go," A Peace Keeper stormed into the room and grabbed my shirt.

I twisted away from him, jerking my shirt free of his grasp. He looked enraged. "Don't touch me," I snarled.

"Jase," Dad said warningly.

"Don't touch me, please," I corrected.

Dad sighed and pulled me into a tight bear hug- the first I could ever remember him giving me- "Come home."

He slid his hand into my pocket, dropped something, and then left-- leaving two Peace Keepers to grab my shoulders and shove me through the doorway. I saw Dee down the hallway a bit, stopped by a Peace Keeper, crying in fear. We were walking towards them.

"Answer me!" he bellowed, as he slapped her.

I cursed at him and ripped myself free from the Peace Keepers' grasp- leaping on him, driving my fist into his nose, knocking him to the ground in a puddle of his own blood. He didn't get back up.

"Hey! You can't-" I whirled around on another Peace Keeper, slamming my forearm into his mouth.

Two more were on me in a second- one punched my mouth so hard I fell backwards. "He's got a knife! In his belt!" One of them shouted.

I slid the knife further into my belt, unwilling to surrender it, but not ready to lose it. I was surrounded by five Peace Keepers, each watching me warily- finally one leapt towards me, and I managed to get out of the way, and drive my elbow into his spine.

My fists made contact with flesh three more times before I was slammed into the ground, fists striking my body, as someone roughly releaved me of my crude blade and searched me for more. Three of them- one on either arm, one pushing me from behind- dragged me towards the train, with two more following us.

My mouth and nose were bleeding, my ribs and fists sore. They three me through an open doorway, making me strike the far wall with my head and back, before I slumped to the carpeted hallway- they shut the door behind me.

I cursed, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and cursed again.

I heard someone laugh and looked up, to my left. A 40-ish year old man with longish grayish hair sat in a chair, Jackie sitting opposite him, and he cackled.

"What's so funny, you old fool?" I demanded angrily, as I cringed and forced myself to my feet.

"Boy, if you keep getting your ass whupted before you even get to the Arena, there's not much I can do to help you."

I narrowed my eyes. "Who are you, anyway?"

I rudely took the rag that Jackie offered, and rubbed my mouth and nose.

"Who do you think I am?"

"Mentor?" I growled.

"The boy's a freakin' genius, I tell you," he sneered.

I growled.

"Ooh, I'm scared now. Sit down boy."

"Who are you?" I repeated.

"Diehl," he supplied, as he gestured at the chair beside Jackie's.