Clove's Edition

Chapter 1

I smirk as Elijah Prashad pulls a slip of paper from an extremely large glass bowl labeled, "LADIES!"      

                                                                                                                                                                                                   He squints at the slip of paper, and I stifle a giggle as he struggles to make out the words. This is truly embarrassing: he's always had trouble reading, and District Two has been stuck with him for 17 years now. 17 Reapings of stuttering and pausing.                                                                                   

"Margerate Curral!" He yells across the assembly of people in the plaza near our Victory Building. That's what they call it, at least.                                                                                                               

"I volunteer as tribute!" My voice rings out clearly in the silence that follows her name being announced. Normally, people from this District lunge forward to volunteer for the Games, but I know my spot as tribute from District Two is secure. I get a few uneasy looks from across the jumble of kids, but no one says anything because I have threatened that anyone who volunteers will find a knife in their back. And I mean literally. If I'm talking about a knife, you'd better take me seriously or you'll find a blade in your heart. I have the best aim out of everyone in the crowd, and no one ever dares challenge my authority.                                                                                       

I pretty much define the phrase, "small but deadly". I stand at a mere 5'4, and I have a few light freckles. My brown eyes are kind looking, but if you study them you'll find a cold, hard exterior.  if you mess with me, you might just "magically" wind up in the Emergency Room, or somewhere worse, like six feet underground.