The 412001st Annual Hunger Games

District 3 Reapings

Pov: Gemini Circuit

I run down the cobble streets of three, hot bread burning my skin. The break I stole, fresh form the oven, protruding awkwardly from underneath my shirt. Despite the pain, I continue to run, ignoring the searing pain on my chest and stomach, and my brain telling me to stop and breath. My asthma starts kicking in, and as I turn the corner of my street, I start seeing spots dance across the sky. I stop breathing completely, and make a sprint for my door. I push my slim body to its limits, and now with tunnel vision, I crash through the front door of my family's small cottage, and collapse on the old couch, out cold.

When I awaken, blurry faces are staring down at me. I try to raise my head but something is restraining me. Someone says something but I don't understand them. I put my hands on my chest and realize the bread is gone. This time I snapped my head up and sat up, nothing restraining me anymore.

"The bread!" I gasp, "Did you get it, where is it?"

No one says anything, and as my eyes slowly adjust I realize the faces who were staring down at me aren't my family members. Four peacekeepers have their guns pointed at me, and my family of six all lay dead, puddles of red staining the carpet. I stare stone faced, no emotion escaping me, as I rise and put my hands behind my back. They put handcuffs on me, and walked me outside with my head bowed. It seemed like we had been walking forever, and I wondered of we would ever stop. Right then I heard a familiar drawling voice of Selebraty Novalee, the dumb ass escort introducing the rebellion film. Then I feel a sharp pinch in my back, convulsed once, and right before I slumped to the ground shaking, I knew I had been hit by a taser.

Pov: Gabrielle Key

"Late again!" exclaims my sister, Liliana. We sprint down the streets, nearing the square with every stride. My hand starts slipping from her grip, but she tightens her hand around mine, and we keep running. When we reach the square, the escort is already talking, and the people who draw ou blood are no where to be seen. Liliana takes me to my 12 year old's pen, and she goes to the 16 year old pen. By the time I focus my self, the reel had just ended, and she is dancing her hand around a large fishbowl full of names, our names. She withdraws her hand, a single slip of paper in between he index finger and thumb, her pinky pointed upwards, a capitol sign of fanciness.

"Liliana Key!" Selebraty yells excitedly.

The next moments I don't remember, my brain must have shut off.

I snap back into my sense when a bucket of ice cold water is dumped on me. I look around at my surrounding and don't recognize anything. I slowly get up to see a boy, a man, and a lady watching a t.v. I can see myself crying and running to the stage after my sister had been reaped. I was yelling "I volunteer!"

I sat back down again in shock. Had I really just volunteered for my older sister? I have no experience with fighting or surviving what so ever! Then I see a strangely boy, being brought in by peace keepers. They throw him on stage and he is automatically reaped for "crimes to the capitol." I look around and realize I see him sitting next to Selebraty, and our mentor, Julien. I lay back down on the floor and fall asleep this time, to the haunting sound of my own voice volunteering.

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