The Reaping District 9

Dalton was gathered in the square with everyone else in District 9. He had stood their while they called a female tribute whom he had never seen then came the male tribute. He was nervous and excited at the same time. He almost wanted to be picked. He knew how to use a knife, he coulf throw knives a fair distance, and his father had taught him to hunt and gather. If he was chosing he would fight until the end and he would never give up. He would become the Career from District 9.

"Dalton Fahert" The lady on the podium shouted with a creepy smile on her face. Dalton was stunned while he had thought in his mind that he could do it now he was having second thoughts. He stumbled onto the podium. No one shouted out his name. No one was going to miss him when he finally did die in the games. Maybe this was for the best he thought. I finally have an excuse to get away from my abusive father. He regained his composure and stood on the podium with a stern expression and standing tall. He caught sight of his father, drunk as ever. Had he even heard his son's name called? Had the certain doom registered in his mind yet? Dalton didn't know. Then his father blacked out. Oh great he thought now I'll be the tribute whose father was stone cold drunk at the Reaping. He still stood straight and tall on the podium.