The Performer

Isis

I stand shoulder to shoulder with all the other 18 year old girls in District 8. The escort finally gets to the exciting part. Announcing who will go into the Games. She smiled. Her toxic-sludge green hair looked kind of like a butt. She had bright green eyes, but not soft like her friend Harry’s. Harry smiled at her from the stage. The escort, Vera Casimir, wore a short green dress with boots that had at least eight inch heels. In short, she looked ridiculous.

“Ladies first, shall we?” she chirped. Those ridiculous Capitol outfits made me sick. She reached in and unfolded the paper. I crossed my arms. Which poor sap would it be this year?

“Isis Calliope!” she chirped.

My eyes widened. How could it be? I had my name in what, ten times? I hardly ever took out tesserae. At most three times.

“Is Isis Calliope here?” she chirped, snapping me out of my reverie. I trudged towards the stage. The Peacekeepers grabbed my arms and shoved me on the stage. I just brushed myself off and rolled my eyes.

“So, you’re Isis?”

“Yeah.” I said, sighing. This sucks to say the least.

She plasters on a fake smile and chirps, “Great!” She walks back over to the bowl for the boys and pulls a paper.“Octavian Evander!”

I mentally groan. Octavian is the weird kid, you could say. He’s always slicing teddy bears. He claims to “read the future”. I have no doubt that he’ll enjoy this. Octavian walks proudly up to the stage and stands tall beside Vera.

“This year’s tributes from District Eight! Isis Calliope and Octavian Evander! Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!”

May the Odds Be In My Favor, I guess.

Calypso

I stood in the mass of seventeen year olds. Our escort wore all gold, typical for District One. He was perky and his yellow eyes were a bit scary.

“Ladies first.” he almost growled. He pulled out a slip of paper and read.

“Marabelle Reed.”

A scrawny 12 year old started walking up to the stage. She would be dead in a second. I raised my hand and calmly walked to the stage.

“I volunteer as tribute.” I gently pushed Marabelle to the side, and caught her eye.

Thank you, she mouthed. I walked up on the stage and stood next to the escort.

“What’s your name?”

I took a deep breath. “Calypso. Calypso Dea.”

“Well, Calypso, may the odds be ever in your favor. Now for the boys!”

He pulled a slip and I clutched my white dress.

“Draco Malfoy.”

I groaned internally. He was the best eighteen year old, and his father was the mayor. Draco walked up the steps and shook my hand. He flashed a brief smile and faced the audience.

“Congratulations to this year’s tributes, Calypso Dea and Draco Malfoy!”

What did I get myself into?

Reyna

I stood in the eighteen year old section of District Two. My purple dress made me stand out between the girls in gray or black, and I didn’t care. My parents were victors, and so were my father’s parents. I had to volunteer this year, or they would never forgive me. My sister, Hylla, stood in the back, and she gave me a firm nod. She hadn’t gone into the Games when she was eighteen, but only because our mom had been killed by the Capitol that year. I faced forwards, and tried to listen to the escort. She was wearing a diamond dress and crazy silver attire. In my mind, she looked ridiculous. The people in the Capitol liked that? She called out a name.

“Dolores Moonbeam.”

A proud fifteen year old marched up to the stage. This was my chance.

“I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!” I called, pushing Dolores away. I stood on the stage.

The escort looked shocked for a minute, but eventually said, “What’s your name, sweetie?”

I glared at her. “Don’t call me sweetie. I am Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano.”

She gasped. “What a big name!”

I rolled my eyes. I looked out at the crowd, and a tear ran down Hylla’s face. I forgot that if I died, she would be alone with Dad.

“Reginald Peters!” she crowed.

A shy looking seventeen year old walked up. If he wasn’t from Two, like me, I’d think that he’d be a bloodbath tribute.

Reggie

I stood in the back, and glanced to my parents. For once, they weren’t arguing, but I knew it wouldn’t last. The escort lady called out the name of a fifteen year old. How could she look excited to kill people? Even though I am from a Career district, I don’t like hurting people if I don’t have to. An older girl pushes her out of the way and volunteers. She looks about eighteen, and has long black hair and piercing black eyes. She introduces herself as Reyna. She is still glaring at the escort with her piercing black eyes when the escort calls another name. My name.

“Reginald Peters!”

I start my death march to the stage. The girl, Reyna, looks at me with a mix of pity and a look that seems as if she is scanning my soul, looking for the weak parts. I step onto the stage and glance at my parents. They’re arguing once again. I turned to the escort with the big hair. I mutter, “It’s Reggie, actually.”

Her nose wrinkles up. “Reggie. Well good luck to Reyna Arellano and Reginald Peters!”

Reyna looks like she wants to punch the escort. “Get my name right, idiot.” she growls. She is not someone to mess with. I really hope she’s my ally.

Leo

Leo stood in the seventeen year old section, fiddling with his mechanical dragon. He named it Festus. The escort chick called out a girl’s name. “Annabeth Chase.”

A girl with tan skin, curly blond hair, and calculating gray eyes. She was cute, but really scary. The escort tried to get her to chat, but the girl glared. Dang. She was really scary.

“Leo Valdez.”

He looked up. Everyone was staring at him. “Who, me?”

Two Peacekeepers grabbed him and shoved him onto the stage. “Hey!” Leo protested.

“You must be Leo!” the escort chick chirped.

“Er, yeah.”

He tried to shake hands with Annabeth, but she glared at him.

Annabeth

Annabeth sat with her arms crossed in one of the chairs. She didn’t expect her stepmom to come say goodbye, so she just sat. Her father burst in and wrapped her in a hug.

“Dad-” she started.

“Annabeth, I am so sorry.”

She pulled herself out of the hug. “For what, dad? For making me provide for the family for the last six years? For ignoring me for Helen, Bobby, and Matthew? For leaving me?”

“Annabeth-”

“Just forget it. Just, if I die, don’t let Magnus see it. I don’t care if Helen sees it.”

“Annabeth, these were your mom’s.” he says, and hands her a pair of owl earrings. “Please wear them.”

She pins them to her ears. “Thanks, dad. I guess I’ll see you when I come back.”

Two Peacekeepers shoved him out of the room. “Goodbye Annabeth!”

“Bye dad.” she whispered.

Her cousin, Magnus came in next.

“Hi Annie.” he said, and sat in the chair next to her.

“Hi Magnus. What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Annabeth took a deep breath. “Magnus, if I die, do me a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t watch. I don’t want you to see that.”

“Okay. Bye Annabeth. Please come home.”

“I will.”

Julie

I stood with my friend, Flynn, for the Reaping. Flynn had her long braided hair up in a bun. She wore a knee length red dress and sandals, like me. I wore a blue dress with spaghetti straps and blue sandals. I left my bouncy hair down. It was still wet from swimming that morning, but no one cared. Flynn pushed my shoulder. “Hey, Jules. It’s starting.”

The escort, Anastasia, pulled a name from the bowl.

“Flynn Taylor!”

Flynn looked at me with wide eyes. This couldn’t be happening. I called out;

“I volunteer!”

Flynn pushed me back. “Jules, no.”

“Flynn, I have to.”

“No, I am not letting you do this.”

“You can’t stop me, Flynn.”

I pushed her back just hard enough that she stumbled and I could step onto the platform.

“And who are you?”

“Julie Molina.” I looked down at Flynn, and she was glaring daggers at me, but there were tears in her eyes. I looked at my dad, and he looked…..scared? He had won a while back. I made eye contact with my brother, Carlos, in the twelve year old section. Anastasia called the next name.

“Carlos Molina.” Carlos started walking up. No.no.no.no.no.no.no.

Percy

I saw the girl, Julie, I think, push Flynn out of the way. Julie was pretty well known around here because both of her parents were Victors. Her mom died a few years back, and there were rumors that she was killed by Snow. That doesn’t make sense, but it’s possible. He’s the man that okayed the killing of twenty-three kids every year. Julie stands up there, and she looks terrified. The boy’s name is called out.

“Carlos Molina!!”

My eyes widened. That’s her little brother, age twelve or something.

“Carlos!” Julie calls out, and tears stream down her face. She clutches her dress. I can’t let this happen to her.

“I volunteer!” I yell, and I run up to Carlos. “Listen man, you gotta take care of yourself. I didn’t do this for nothing, okay?”

He nods, his eyes wide. I turn and step up onto the stage.

“My name’s Percy Jackson.”

I look to my mom, Sally, and she’s standing with Smelly Gabe. She looks proud, sure, but also scared. That’s fair. I just got myself in a fight to the death, and I have almost no intention of coming home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My mom comes into the waiting room. She wraps me up in a hug, and I get choked up.

“Mom, I-”

“Percy, please don’t kill.”

I pull back. “Mom?”

“I know you’ll have to to survive, just….. Don’t be like the usual Careers.”

“I don’t understand-”

“Don’t kill for fun. Only if you have to. Okay?”

“Okay, mom. I’ll be back soon.” I say.

“One way or another.” I mutter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk onto the train. Suddenly, someone tackles me in a hug.

“Umm…..”

She pulled away. She has curly dark brown hair that falls down to her back. She has brown eyes and light brown skin. Her blue dress falls around her ankles and covers her sandals. Her eyes are a bit red, as if she’d been crying. It’s the other tribute, Julie.

“Sorry. But, thank you. For saving my brother.”

“Uh, no problem.”

She looks up at me. “It is. You literally saved his life. I-”

“Look, let’s just not talk about it.”

“Okay, sorry.”

“But, uh, it was pretty brave of you to save that Flynn girl.”

“Yeah, she’s been my best friend since forever, so…”

“Ah.”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“Should we maybe go?”

“Yeah, for sure.”