THE 150th HUNGER GAMES

District 3 and 4 Reapings(18)

Angelina Aberwinkle's (escort) P.O.V:

I check to make sure my spiky, orange hair is perfect one last time and step out of District 3's Justice Building just as the video on the Hunger Games history stops playing. I approach the crowd of people and see the young adolescents standing near the front. They all look very frightened or angry. There aren't many volunteers from 3.

"Welcome, welcome! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be EVER in your favor!" I say with a smile, nervously flattening my sunset-colored dress. "My name is Angelina Aberwinkle, and I am the new District 3 escort!" I tell the crowd, looking at how unfashionable they are. None of them have their skin tinted slightly orange like mine!

It is my first year as escort, and I am nervous the people will dislike my style. Maybe I didn't choose the right necklace today! My hands leap to my neck, around which a choker with an amber gemstone rests. I see the crowd staring, and I laugh it off and immediately walk over to the glass ball full of names of eighteen-year-old girls from District 3. "As usual, ladies first!" I say with a giggle. I stick my hand in and select a name from the jumble of papers. I unfold it and read the name.

"Lillian Zenn!" I say with a smile. The girls edge away and leave a lone adolescent standing. The girl has jet black hair to her shoulders. She slowly takes a step forward. "Come on, dear," I encourage. She makes her way up the stairs toward me. I grin at her. "What an honor to be chosen to represent District 3! Let's have a hand for Lillian Zenn!" I clap lightly. Nobody else does.

"Lilli!" I hear a girl screaming from the crowd.

"It's ok, Lindsey! I'll- I'll be fine," Lillian shouts back, but from here I can see the terror on her face.

I chuckle slightly and walk over to the glass ball full of boy's names, fiddling with my pale orange earrings. "Let's select a male tribute now!" I say, and push around the pieces of paper. I decide on one and lift it out of the glass ball. "Fredrick James!" I say loudly. The adolescent boys glance around to see who's name has just been called. "Fredrick James?" I call uncertainly. Finally a boy with olive skin and dark hair begins to slowly trod towards me. "Hello, Fredrick!" I smile brightly at him.

"Hello, Angelina," He mumbles. Well, at least he's polite!

The two tributes stand on either side of me. "Our District 3 tributes!" I say loudly. "Lillian Zenn and Fredrick James!"

Venus Verymerry's (escort) P.O.V:

I hear my green bracelets jangling as I walk out towards the Reaping balls for District 4. The crowd looks back at me, most likely admiring my stunning green dress and beautiful grassy hair that not only has the color of grass, but also the consistency. The wonders these poor people live without when they don't spend their time in the Capitol!

As an experienced escort, 28 Reapings worth, I get straight down to business. "Hello, hello! Happy 150th Hunger Games, and may the odds be EVER in your favor! The time has come to select a male and female tribute to compete in this year's Hunger Games, which just so happens to be a quarter quell!" I say excitedly. I walk over to the large, glass ball from which an eighteen year old girl will be reaped. I select one right from the top.

"Annalies Well!" I read the name off the slip of paper. A dark-haired girl storms up to me and rips the paper that has her name on it right out of my hand. She tears it to shreds and drops it. Scraps of paper swarm around her feet in the wind as she stands with her arms crossed, giving me a look that says; "You HAD to choose MY name, huh? You just HAD to."

I look at her, alarmed at this rude girl and her frightful manners. "Well!" I say. "let's select a boy tribute!" I quickly walk (more of a run) away from this vicious girl and pick a name from the glass bowl. "Benjamin Tillman!" I read the name off.

"Present, SIR!" A tall boy with light brown hair shouts. He pushes his way through the crowd, looking straight ahead. Finally he stands next to me.

"Are you Benjamin?" I ask uncertainly.

"Benjamin Tillman, age eighteen, SIR!" He salutes me.

"Hello, Benjamin! Or should I call you Ben?" I ask pleasantly, knowing of several Benjamins that go by Ben.

"Jam, SIR!" He replies.

"Jam?"

"Jam, SIR!"

I tilt my head, confused. Jam, like the food? "Heh, heh," I laugh it off quickly. "Our District 4 tributes!" I shout, putting one of my hands on Annalies's back (she shoved it off at first, but when I put it back she cooperated and let it stay, even though I was barely touching her dirty shirt that would probably get my hands grimy just from lightly touching it) and my other hand on Jam's back(who towered over me and I had to look up at. The embarrassment! He should have to look up at me!) "Annalies Well and Jam Tillman!"