User blog:Alicerosewright/121st Hunger Games

These are my first Games, so I will be very pleased if you joined!! :)

I will be writing these Games in POVs of the tributes, and I will be writing about some more than others, though I will try and write as many POVs for each of them as possible.

I am writing this in the future - Katniss was killed instead of Rue so there was no rebellion, and the Games continued as normal as ever, though the Gamemakers have increased the number of Victors so that the audience have more to talk about and bet on.

This time, '''there can be four winners. '''

Rules/Important Parts

 * You can only enter four tributes
 * You may give advice and sponsor (I will only let you use three parachutes)
 * I will try and write to the best of my ability (which I hope is good enough to enjoy!)
 * Please no getting angry at tributes death.
 * No swearing or spiteful words about me or any other users or tributes!
 * You can advertise your own Games here, but message me before doing so, and only do it once!
 * I will only be writing about reapings, but I will be posting private scores first, and then onto the Games
 * There will be a surprise twist, though it will be revealed later!
 * If you have any ideas for storylines with your tributes, leave me a message!

Tribute Template
Name: (First and Last)

Gender:

District:

Age: (12-18)

Personality:

Strengths

Fears: (Must have 1)

Weapons: (In order of prefrence)

Backstory: (Doesn't have to be long, but include info about family members)

Alliance: (E.g. Careers, others from district etc.)

Picture/Description: (It can be a picture or it can be typed)

What will they perform in private training?: (I will be basing scores on this!)

Bloodbath Strategy: (optional)

Token (Optional)

Arena Description
The Arena is the shape of the ying-yang symbol, and reasonably large. It has a tropical climate and environment. At the left-side circle (in the ying-yang, it would be the black dot), is the Cornucopia, with the tribute platforms all around it. However, the Cornucopia is based on a tiny island in a huge lagoon and tributes must swim to reach it, and tributes unable to swim are likely to drown in the water. Outside the lagoon, there is a small, sandy shore before you reach the second half of the ying-yang shape. On this half, there is tropical forest where many animals can be found to eat, though mutts often appear here. Towards the left of the forest, there is a second shore that breaks off abruptly into thick coral in a lagoon (the second dot, In the ying-yang symbol it would be the white dot). This coral is a good source of seafood, but some of the sea plants are dangerous, and shark mutts can attack tributes here.At the back part of the arena, there are mountains (the brown bits on the pic), that are about a mile wide each. They are mostly rocky mountains, but melting snow high up is a good source of water. Birds, small rodents and mountain goats populate the mountains. These animals are plentiful, so the mountains are a very good source of food. However, there is one ferocious lion cross grizzly bear mutt that patrols all mountains and can easily kill tributes unless they are good fighters and armed. As the lagoon and ocean are both saltwater, the only way to get clean water is from dripping leaves and the scarce rainfall and the melting snow off the mountains. However, some backpacks contain filters that do not use fires to turn saltwater into drinking water, though there are only two of these filters.

Alliances
Tributes in just italics are the ones who have been killed.

Careers: Odin Amarth (1M), Petri Lindroos (2M), Beemo Xra (3F), Alyssa Mason (7F), Scarlett Winters (2F), Pharmacy Rivera (9F), Amy Clarke (12F)

Leader: Odin Amarth

D4, D10 + D11:

Oceania Seacrest (4F), Kalmah XXIV (4M), Alexandria Maydon (10F), Blaine Fitz (10M), Rubin Jett (11M)

Leader: Oceania Seacrest (4F)

Co-Leader: Rubin Jett (11M) 

D5, D6, D8, D12 + D13:

Gaara Ryughan (5M), Luna Sunkin (6F), Star Sunkin (6M), Rebekah Ure (8F), Trent Greer (12M), Crimson Typhoon (13M)

Leader: Gaara Ryughan (5M)

Co-Leader: Luna Sunkin (6F)

Alone:

Nymph Meré (1F), Katarina Seacrest (5F), Yoshi Holiday (8M), Matthew Haper (9M), Aislyn Latona (11F), Shyvana Feuer (13F), Brandon Ivey (7M), Nick Maclachlan (3M) 

Private Training Scores
Hope I haven't been to harsh! Things that were more interesting and impressive got the higher scores.

District 1 - Odin Amarth
Today is my last reaping. I've waited long enough, and I know that if I do not become a tribute, I will never bring glory to District 1, as the God Odin brought glory to his people. I line up alongside many other hopeful children, and let my Father take my blood sample. He's a Peacekeeper if you hadn't guessed. I hardly ever see him, but whenever I'm at the Reapings he's always there, and this year is no different. I am ordered to stand at the correct age row as our wildly dressed escort appears on stage. She looks excitedly over the crowd, her gaze catching mine.

“Let's start with the girls!” Ruby announces, reaching her hand into the Reaping bowl. She draws out a small slip, her claw-like fake nails making it a struggle to unravel the paper. “Nymph Meré!” She calls out. Everyone looks to the girl stepping out of the crowd. Everyone knows who Nymph is. She's the forbidden daughter of a master and a servant, and the crazy girl who stills has tea parties with imaginary friends. “So, are you excited?” Ruby asks cheerfully. Nymph glares at the woman in shock. Ruby points the microphone in Nymph's direction. The crazy girl screams down the mic, making the whole crowd wince and cover their ears. “Okay, now for the boys...” Ruby stalls the picking, thinking there would be volunteers. I know it is either now or never. “I volunteer!” I yell. Nobody else seems to be wanting to volunteer, but then who would want to compete against a psycho like Nymph? Ruby calls me up to the stage. “And what's your name?” She asks.

“Odin Amarth.” I answer. As Ruby announces us as the official tributes for District 1, I look over at my father. I can see that he is finally proud of me. Maybe I will bring glory to Odin and to my district.

District 2 - Scarlett Winters
My boss wishes me good luck before I merge into the huge crowd of District 2 kids. I see lots of panicked 12-year-olds, believing they will get reaped immediately. But they won't. I could laugh at the fact they don't know their future. But I know mine. I had requested my name to be rigged, after all. Maybe they are scared that they do not know what will become of their futures - but how would I know? I've always known my future. I've always known my job, but they haven't. It's just one of the side-effects of telling lies to District 2, I guess. Our escort, Maximus Estes, appears on stage with a beaming grin on his face. He is wearing a ridiculous suit the colour of blood. Or wine -- whatever floats your boat. "Welcome to the District 2 reaping of the 121st Hunger Games!" The crowd roars with delight, but others roll their eyes carelessly. I just stand still, not caring, keeping to my cover. "As always, ladies first!" He announces. He puts his hand in the bowl, drawing out a short slip. "Scarlett Winters!" I run immediately up onto stage excitedly, before anyone can volunteer instead of me. "So, Scarlett, are you looking forward to the Games?" He asks, handing me the microphone to speak. I smile sinisterly. "Yes. I am very excited." I reply, handing the mic back to him. He nods appreciatively, and then begins to pick out a male's name. I scan the crowds, analyzing all the boys who might make worthy opponents. I spot the son of someone I killed when I first began my job with the secret organization. He had no idea what happened to his father. We framed him for it, which became kind of a joke between me and my boss. The son was put in prison, not even arguing against the accusation made against him. His father deserved to die, anyway. He told the truth to his wife about our organization, and we heard him do it. We hear everyone's conversations, we follow their lives, all the time. So he had to die. I continue to look over the crowds, feeling like Victor already, as Maximus calls out the male tribute's name. "Petri Lindroos!" The boy's name is Petri. I never knew that, despite the fact I framed him for his father's murder. Petri walks up on stage, his fists clenched until his knuckles turn white. But his face is calm, his posture collected. He looks horrifyingly similar to his father. Perhaps killing him will be easier than it was to kill his father. Maybe I can lie about his death, and say he was killed by someone else. I realize how much lies District 2 has been told by me, by my organization. So many kids, told lies by their parents who don't even know they're doing it. But District 2 has always been that way. It's just a pile of lies, stories and secrets. Here, some people say that the truth hurts, but in fact, the truth kills.

District 3 - Beemo Xra
I meet up with my friends ready for the Reaping. They're nervous and slightly afraid. We line up in the crowd, surrounded by hundreds of other girls our age. My best friend hugs me and wishes me good luck, and I return the favor. For some reason, the Reaping this year feels different. I don't know why. A huge female Peacekeeper taps us in order as we are being 'too noisy', which angers me and as they turn around, I make a face behind her back. My friends giggle, and I smile with them. Our escort tests the microphone, and I point out to my friends that she has dyed her skin slightly pink! We are about to laugh when a Peacekeeper gives us sharp looks, which almost instantaneously shuts us up. Every time I look at those white-uniformed soldiers I always see my brothers, who I have not seen since I was nine. A shiver runs through me as I recall Jake being whipped to death, and my other brother Finn being dragged away to imprisonment. I still do not understand what happened that day - I just know that I was kept in my house alone - when I was not at school, which I learned to value and treasure, because that's where I met all my friends and forgot what happened in my past, even though the death of my brother hurt me a little more every day. My friends and I fall silent as the escort announces the 121st Hunger Games, and dips her hand into the Reaping bowl like she's picking out sweets from a jar. "Beemo Xra!" She calls out, her eyes wandering the crowd in search of me. I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest, covering my ears in the hope that it is not real. My friends start sobbing around me, all of them hugging me tightly, I never wanting to let go. The female Peacekeeper takes hold of my arms, and drags me up to the stage, kicking and screaming like a banshee. Our escort is wide-eyed at the drama I am creating. "So, are you looking forward to competing, Beemo?" She asks stupidly, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off. "Get off me you pink freak," I mutter. She looks deeply offended, and shuffles away in her heels, quite disgusted by my attitude. I couldn't care less now that I'm going into the Hunger Games. "Let's begin with the boys, shall we?" Our escort says hastily. She draws out a slip and skim reads it. I can tell she has sight issues because she holds the paper so close to her face she might as well stick it to her eyeball. "Nick Maclachlan!" A black-haired and olive-skinned 14-year old emerges from the thick crowd of boys that look almost like his clones. He trots up on stage, and our escort is reluctant to say anything to him. But, out of the little kindness she has, she points the microphone at him. "So, Nick, do you reckon you are experienced enough to win these Games?"

"Yes. Oh, and by the way, I love the Capitol," He says, quite clearly sarcastic. I laugh, but our escort doesn't get it, and makes a strange face like a confused puppy. She ignores it and continues, still working it out in her mind. Nick and I exchange glances and smile at each other.

"And here we have our District 3 tributes for the 121st Hunger Games!"

District 4 - Oceania Seacrest
Peacekeepers give me strange looks when I turn up at the square for the Reapings. They haven't seen me since last year, when I won my other Games. I laugh at how ridiculous they look, perhaps more ridiculous than all the freakishly ugly Capitol people. I remembered my nutty cousin, Katarina, and wonder if she ever recovered from the fact that I beat her. I'm a Victor already, though the Capitol let me be put in the Reaping bowl still, for whatever reason they have. I get lost in the crowds, and Hestia and Cleo appear on stage. They're twins, I think, because it appears like I am seeing double. They are wearing the same dresses, have the same hairstyle, the same perfect makeup - and the same amount of stupidity. "Hey guys! Are you excited?" Hestia questions, expecting a huge cheer. There is silence, except for the sea waves crashing against the beach nearby. "Well, let's start with the boys!" Cleo announces. Her sister elbows her crossly. "No, we're doing girls first!" Hestia argues. "Boys!" Cleo screams, her winy voice making the whole crowd cover their ears in the hope that it will shield them from being deafened by these monstrosities. "Girls!" Hestia slaps her sister on the arm, making Cleo shriek. "MAKE A DECISION!" Someone yells impatiently. All of us are wanting to get these Reapings over and done with. The girls make faces at each other, Cleo sticking her tongue out in a most undesirable fashion. They're lucky that the camera crew can edit this out. Hestia reaches her hand into the girls' bowl, and Cleo picks out the male's name from her bowl. "Kalmah..." Cleo hesitates, showing her sister the slip. "What's this word?" She whispers, showing her twin. "It's a number, you idiot!" Hestia hisses. "Kalmah XXIV!" They finally announce together. They let the boy come up, skipping his short interview. "Okay, the girls now..." Hestia begins, reading her slip. "Oceania Seacrest!" I blink, disbelieving. I'd been Victor once. Why would the Capitol make me compete again? Peacekeepers push me out of the crowd, and Hestia claps her hands when she realizes that I am a celebrity. "What a surprise!" She says gleefully. I stand next to Kalmah, who pulls a sinister finger across his throat, miming my death.

District 5 - Gaara Ryûghan
I scowl at the Peacekeepers who stab a needle into me for my blood. I'd kill them all if I got the chance. "Good luck," One of them said. I ignored them, telling them to push off. I shoved my way past the line of kids, getting into the right age group. Romulus takes his spot on stage, talking happily with the Head Peacekeeper, like the two were old friends. Perhaps they were. More children were here this year, due to the new eligible children. They all looked so innocent - just like I used to be. But I'm not like that anymore. I'll happily kill people, and I haven't even been reaped. Yet. I drove all my family, my friends out, just so that I could have the best chances of becoming Victor. It would be worth it for life-long safety within my District, and the Capitol would love me. I'd be a young winner, the everlasting sign of glory and honour for District 5. What could be better than that? Removing people from my life was definitely worth it. "Okay, District 5! We're back for another year of the Hunger Games! I wish you all luck," Romulus begins. I can tell his a nice enough person, but I could easily imagine him being killed in two seconds flat...by me. I've trained in secret for years, preparing myself for the only destiny I could ever want. To win the Hunger Games. "Right, ladies! You first!" He smiles as he picks out a card with a girl's name on it. "Katarina Seacrest!" He calls. A psycho, smiling girl with curly brown hair appears on stage. I've never seen her before, but I can tell that she's completely mental because she's wearing the District asylum uniform. A straightjacket. Romulus' expression clearly shows that he is worried, and looks over his shoulder just to check that the Peacekeepers are there. "So, Katarina, how are you?" He asks, his voice wavering uncomfortably as he gets unnervingly close to the crazy girl. "I'm fine," Katarina smiles, staring into Romulus' eyes like a demon. Our escort smiles weakly, and hurriedly walks away from the female tribute, and to the male's bowl. "And your male tribute will be..." He reads the card happily, expecting no more drama, but I raise my hand and yell. "I VOLUNTEER!" Romulus looks up from the card, and sees me heading up to the stage with a beaming smile. Finally, I would get my chance. "And what's your name, young man?" Romulus asks, handing me the microphone. "Gaara Ryûghan," I answer proudly. I can see Katarina staring at me enviously in her straightjacket. "And why have you volunteered for the Games, Gaara?" Romulus questions curiously. I smile.

"Because the only reason for my existence is to kill."

District 6 - Luna Sunkin
Star and I line up together, and the female Peacekeeper gives us both sympathetic looks. She knows that we are siblings, and the only thing we have left is each other. She wishes us luck, and I thank her from the bottom of my heart. It is rare that we are shown any sign of affection from people, especially Peacekeepers. I hug my brother and let him go to the boy's crowd. I squeeze in between two extremely tall girls, who are supposed to be my age, though I doubt they are. It is unlikely that me and my brother will be reaped, as I only have four slips in the reaping bowl, and Star only has three. We've managed to get by without tesserae, so compared with many other kids, we're less likely to be reaped - but that might just be me being optimistic. Tatiana, our District escort, appears on stage in a beautiful dress. She's always been like that. She's got lovely green eyes, and long blonde hair and always has the nicest clothes on. Tatiana must think us like dirt, because of our itchy brown cotton factory and school uniforms. Nobody in my District can afford much clothes, and it's a luxury to have more than two outfits. "District 6, we're here for another year's Reapings! May the odds be ever in your favor!" She starts, two slips of paper already in her hands. "And the male tribute is Star Sunkin!" My brother emerges from the crowd, and I scream his name, running out to him. The female Peacekeeper that had been so kind to us held me back, but I kicked and hit her, wanting to be released from her grip. I wouldn't let my brother die, after the years we'd spent keeping each other alive. I wasn't going to give up on him now. He was more important to me than my own life. Tatiana begins to get uncomfortable with the chaos, so quickly begins to read out the girl's name. "Lucy-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I scream. The whole crowd looks shocked as the female Peacekeeper lets me go. I sprint up onto the stage and wrap my arms around my little brother. Tatiana 'ahhs' at us like we are cute puppies. Tears are streaming down my face, but I know what I must do to protect my brother. "Are you two siblings?" Tatiana asks softly, bending down to our height. If it weren't for her heels, she would probably be smaller than me anyway. Star nods. "What's your name, pretty?" She asks me.

"Luna. Luna Sunkin. You're not going to split us," I reply protectively.

"Don't worry, you two can stay together..." Tatiana promises. She looks deeply at me, which unnerves me a little. "Your eyes are very blue... like the ocean. Very beautiful," Tatiana comments. I don't know what to make of her compliment, but nod appreciatively. I push my hair behind my ear nervously. "And here we have brother and sister, Star and Luna Sunkin, District 6 tributes for the 121st Hunger Games!"

District 7 - Brandon Ivey
The familiar sight of Peacekeepers and our district escort at the Reapings does not faze me. I’m fifteen, so I’ve been present at the Reapings enough times to understand what’s going on. If I ever got reaped, I’d do it for my family – not for the winnings, not for the fame or fancy home in the Victor’s village. I couldn’t bear to lose my family, and I’m sure they couldn’t bear to lose me. Knowing I’d die and cause them so much grief would only make me feel worse. If I won, I’d be saving my family from that. The wind is cold as the huge open area outside the Hall of Justice, the thick forests of trees creates a disturbing rustling noise that sounds similar to the sharpening of blades. I cast a glance at my shivering Mother in her thin cotton uniform. We are too poor to buy anymore clothes. My sisters would be delighted to get more dresses if I won. I smiled to myself at the thought of my siblings opening a new wardrobe full of wonderful clothes, just for them. I’d have to win for that to happen though. I am snapped out of my thoughtful mind as our escort shouts down the microphone. I think he’s a bit deaf, but he’s better than those annoying twin escorts from District 4. He doesn’t announce the Reapings, and immediately goes to picking out names. He’s a man of few words, you could say.

“Alyssa Mason!” He calls. Everyone turns their heads to face the infamous Alyssa, better known as Lyss. Her aunt was a Victor, and a very intelligent person. If her niece had the same intelligence and logical thinking, she’d be a definite contender for victory. “Brandon Ivey!” It took me a moment to realise that was my name. A sea of faces stared at me, their glares making me want to scream and just disappear. My mother begins to sob as Peacekeepers push me up onto stage. “Here you go, District 7! Your official tributes!” My mother screams my name, asking our escort to pick another name. She runs through the crowds, disappearing in a sea of pale children. Peacekeepers find her quickly, and grab her by the arms, kicking her to the floor.

“Stay down, woman!” The Head Peacekeeper booms, his baton at the ready, despite the fact five other trained soldiers are beside him with guns.

“NO! He’s my son! Please! He’s just an innocent boy!” She cries desperately, holding onto the Peacekeeper’s hands in the hope he will have at least a tiny bit of empathy. He pulls his hand away, leaving my mother to sob on the cold, hard ground.

“The Districts gave up their innocence when they rebelled. Keep quiet, lady!” The Head Peacekeeper replies as my mother gets to her feet. The look on her face shows nothing but anger and revenge. She scratches at his un-shielded face, leaving a line of blood on his cheek. He punches her in the shoulder, knocking her backwards.

The whole District gasps, but nobody retaliates. I can barely breathe with shock. Tears begin to appear on my face, but I wipe them away, not wanting to seem weak to all the other boys. Peacekeepers restrain me too, and take me to the Train where I am to go to the Capitol. As the doors close, I hear a gunshot. District 8 - Rebekah Ure Today is my first reaping. But I’m not scared. The sight of all these thick necks to squeeze makes me kind of happy. Plus, getting reaped for the Games is the only place that I can kill without being thrown in prison for it. Our fat-necked District escort, Ceres Sorcera, appears on stage, dressed in dung-coloured brown jumpsuit that somehow matches my scratchy woollen clothes. I could happily choke her. She looks like a huge mouse, and her voice isn’t too far off the noise that they make, either.

“Hello, District 8!” She says squeakily. I wonder how the older kids can bear listening to her every year. I’d run right up on that stage and strangle that voice of out of her – but Peacekeepers block my path so there’s no hope of that. Plus, the Capitol is watching. I’m not sure they’d support me after killing one of their own citizens. “Let’s begin!” She announces, but she’s not very good at announcing things. She speaks in a mousy whisper all the bloody time. Her shout is like normal speaking level! “And the female is...Rebekah Ure!” She says happily. I shoot out of the crowd before anyone can even turn around to look at me. Ceres smiles at me like I’m a model on a catwalk as I appear beside her on stage. “So, Rebekah, are you excited?” She points the microphone at me like an interviewer.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Excited to kill, if that’s what you mean,” I reply, laughing. Nobody laughs with me. Even Ceres is slightly startled at my reaction. She moves on quickly, getting as much space between me and her as possible. Now I definitely want to choke her.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Yoshi Holiday!” She calls. A blonde-haired boy with a strange green uniform walks up. He is frowning, and seems constantly angry. “Yoshi, are you excited, too?” She asks him the same question.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Same as Rebekah. I just want to kill,” He mutters. Ceres squirms uncomfortably between the both of us. Yoshi and I smile at each other. It seems we both want to choke the life out of Ceres Sorcera. <h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">District 9 - Pharmacy Rivera <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">My servants say goodbye to me as I make my way to the crowds gathering for the Reapings. Everyone stares at me as I walk up to get my blood taken. They probably haven't seen me in about a year and a half. I've been living off my scams for that long, anyway. But I'm rich enough now that nothing seems to be able to touch me. Not even the Hunger Games. But I'm going to volunteer, and get even more money so I can become the richest person in my District, and perhaps control most of it. Now that would be fun. But being rich is boring. You get everything served to you on a silver plate - life's too simple! I prefer to have that rush of running away from thugs and the adrenaline you get when you steal some food to stay alive. Yes, it's a bit dirty and tough, but it's fun! That's why I'm volunteering for the Hunger Games. I'll be living an adventure again. It doesn't sound so bad when you think about it. People are going to think I'm crazy. But I'm not. I just got bored of riches, and I can't exactly donate my money. It's mine - why would I share it with anyone else? The escort appears on stage in a rather crude little black dress. I'm probably richer than she is, and she's from the Capitol!

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Good morning, District 9!! Here we are for another Reaping. May the odds be ever in your favour." She selects a boy's name first. "Matthew Haper!" A red-head comes out of the crowd. I laugh at him. He sticks out like a sore thumb! People don't dare tell me to stop laughing at him, though Matthew casts me an annoyed glance which I just snigger at. When I volunteer, I think I'm going to be the one who kills him. "Ok, now for the girls...." There is a long pause. "Tania-"

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"I volunteer!" I yell. Everybody turns around to face me. Some smile, some frown with confusion, others just stand there shocked. I run up on stage like I'm a Victor already, a beaming smile on my face. My escort kind of smiles, but then her bright face fades as she looks at the crowd. They are all staring at me with anger and shock. Perhaps they feel like I am being selfish, by entering the Games to get more money. I don't care what they think. They can think what they like, because I won't be seeing them ever again.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"And what's your name, dear?" Our escort asks like I'm a child.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Pharmacy Rivera, ''darling." ''I answer back. She smiles weakly, and then turns to the crowd with a clearly fake grin on her face.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"And here we have, Matthew Haper and the volunteered tribute, Pharmacy Rivera! Good luck, both of you!" ===<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">District 10 - Blaine Fitz === <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I call my little sister downstairs. She trots down the stairs in a little floral dress. Our mother knitted it especially for her little girl, though she never saw her daughter in it. She gives me a high-five, as we always do when we meet. Her little fingers only stretch half of my palm. I crouch down to be at her height, and she blinks nervously. I think I intimidate her in my Reaping clothes. I always wear the same – a dark grey top and a black jacket, and black trousers. I’ve always tried to look my best, just in case I get reaped. But this year, I know I will become a tribute. Nobody in District 10 will volunteer. I’ll be the first in decades.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Where you goin’, Bwaine?” She asks worriedly, biting her lip as she realises that I am in Reaping uniform. I grin at the fact she still cannot say my name properly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“I’m going on a little trip, Gabriella,” I lie guiltily. Her expression shows me that she is confused.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Can I come, Bwaine?” She pleads, holding onto my hand. “Pwease?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“No, Gabriella. You must stay here with Pap. This is a big boy’s trip,” I explain to her. She scrunches up her face crossly, a deep frown on her face. I roll my eyes. Now is not the time for a tantrum. Two years ago, she threw a huge tantrum and the Peacekeeper’s came knocking to check that I hadn’t stayed at home to avoid the Reapings. I can’t have that again, or I’ll be on their record as a troublemaker. “Gabriella, I think I hear your dolls calling!” I suggest, mock gasping. She forgets my ‘trip’ and runs upstairs to see if her dolls really are calling her. I am going to miss her little red cheeks, and her innocent comments that would be ignorant and stupid from anyone but her. I never really have proper conversations with her, and the only people I really talk to are my friends.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I dash out of the house before my little sister can chase after me. I know that I might not see her again, but I will do whatever it takes to keep her and Pap alive, even if it means scarring myself for life in the Hunger Games. I’ve already lost my mother, and I refuse to let anyone else in my family die of something I can prevent. I run to the Hall of Justice, and I realise I am among very few late stragglers. The Peacekeepers practically stab the blood sampler into me, and give me a good lecture about time. Some recognise me as the boy that was late two years ago. I can see them warning the Head Peacekeeper about me. I take my place in line, ignoring them. My friends spot me, and smile weakly. I’ve told them what I’m going to do, but they won’t stop me. They know I have to do this, for my family.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">The Mayor of District 10 gives us the same boring lecture about the Capitol, and the video alongside the anthem is played. At the end, an image of last year’s escort appears, and he announces that the old woman has passed away, at long last. She annoyed me so much, with her whiny voice and sagging, wrinkled face that has been infused with about a hundred doses of Botox. The Mayor introduces our replacement escort, Aster Clelia, the infamous daughter of President Rome. I’m not surprised she’s a replacement. She’s known to be the daddy’s girl of the Capitol. She’s the only person the President is remotely kind to.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Hello, everybody. Thank you for such a wonderful speech, Mayor! Come on everybody, let’s show him some appreciation!” She claps her hands in appreciation, but nobody joins her. She has a lot to learn about the relationship of the Capitol and District 10. Everybody hates the Capitol, and supporters are practically shunned. She blushes sheepishly and begins to select a tribute’s name. I’m not sure if she’s picking out the boy or the girl – but she’s new to this so I don’t mind. “Alexandria Maydon!” There is a long pause. Nobody emerges from the crowd, and Peacekeepers all around the square are given images of the girl. It seems she has chosen to run from the Reapings. Though everyone knows that running is impossible, especially here. Electric, thick-wired fences run all the way around the District, and there are slim chances of getting out without being fried by the voltage.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Where is Miss Maydon?” Aster asks stupidly. The Mayor whispers something in her ear, and she nods. “Okay, everybody, while Miss Maydon is found, I will call the second tribute.” She reaches her hand into the reaping bowl, and studies the paper in her fingers carefully. “Keld Orford!” She calls. My friends glare at me, though I am just waiting for the right moment. As everybody turns to face the unfortunate 12-year-old, I shout our escort’s name.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“I volunteer!” I yell. Aster looks at me in surprise, but welcomes me onto the stage. Little Keld gives me a nod of thanks, though I’m not doing this for him.

And what’s your name, young man?” Aster asks me, her thick Capitol accent showing through. I struggle to make out her words with the accent, but I manage to guess what she might be saying.

"Blaine Fitz,” I reply. Suddenly, a scream comes from behind the crowd. A fifty-strong troop of white-uniformed Peacekeepers arrive, bringing a girl in handcuffs up to stage. Our escort goes pale. Maybe she thinks that the girl she has picked out is a criminal. But she’s not. Alexandria is just rebellious, that’s all.

Get off me, idiots! I can walk up by myself!” Alexandria shouts at them. They back away, but are in constant grabbing distance. Aster shuffles closer to my side of the stage, avoiding the black-haired, black-clothed Alexandria. We look like twins, with me in my black Reaping clothes. But it’ll create an impact for the Capitol, like the whole thing was planned. I smile to myself as Aster announces us as the official tributes, and thanks everyone for being such a wonderful audience.

District 11 - Aislyn Latona
It hurts me to part with my three remaining siblings, and my grandmother gives me a shaky hug from the crowd barriers. I have my blood taken and form my part of the line of other girls my age. I see Dedrik, my 19-year-old brother holding our grandmother’s hand for comfort. His Reapings are over. He doesn’t have to worry about being a tribute any longer, though Liana and Crist are too young to enter. But their time will come soon, and it will shock them. But I will comfort them, and make sure they are kept safe. Dedrik has refused to let us take out tesserae, to keep us all safe. I hate parting from them at the Reapings. I’m the only person who’s actually eligible for the Hunger Games, so it scares me that I will not get to say goodbye to them.

Our funky-looking District escort appears on stage. He always wears some kind of tie-dye, and this year is no different. A rainbow coloured scarf hangs around his neck, and he has been dressed in a rather vibrant purple suit. The Capitol fashion is queer!

Hello District Eleven!” Everyone cheers. He’s a nice man, our escort. We may dislike the Hunger Games, but he has always tried his hardest to keep our tributes alive, and is often the reason for our tributes surviving the Bloodbath. “Welcome to another Hunger Games! I wish you all luck for this year, and may the odds be ever in your favour.” He draws a slip from the boy’s bowl. “Rubin Jett!” A normally skinny, brown-haired boy steps up on stage. He looks like one of those people who is quiet, but frightfully hard-working. He could definitely be competition. “Rubin, I wish you luck. Have you got family supporting you?”

"No,” He replies. “My brother was killed in the Hunger Games.” Our escort looks sympathetically at Rubin, and I feel sad for him. I know what it is like to lose a sibling, and the pain that it causes between families.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“Well, Rubin, I wish you lots of luck. Now let’s see who will be joining you this year.” The escort picks out a second name. “Aislyn Latona!” I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest, and I can see my siblings start to sob. None of them can save me. Rubin looks me over. I am sure he is wondering if I am a threat to him or not, but I could never kill my district partner. He’s the closest thing I’ve got to home now.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“So, Aislyn, have you got any family supporters?” Our escort asks carefully. I nod.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“My brothers and my sister, and my grandmother.” Our escort smiles thankfully - at least he hasn't made the same mistake with me. Family is a very touchy subjects for many people in the Districts.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">“And here we have, Rubin Jett and Aislyn Latona, District 11 tributes for the 121st Hunger Games!” <h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">District 12 - Amy Clarke <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I hurry to the Hall of Justice. I was going to be early, but in District 12 it doesn't really matter whether you're on time or not. The Peacekeepers here are so incompetent that girls like me are hired to keep everyone in order, but secretly. The familiar face of my top-boss, the President Rome, is on screen. The escort gives me a funny look, like she recognises me, though I doubt that very much. I used to come from District 1, and the escort there is much more famous than the freakish woman here. The other hundreds of kids arrive, and I am put in a special area that is close to the stage, for the most presitgious children in the District. Alongside me is the Mayor's children, a few high-placed Merchant children and a second member of the team that I work with - the only other eligible people from my 'organisation' if you could call it that.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I've been bored with my team for months now, though I don't think I could go back to proper missions. All I've been doing is interrogations of suspected criminials. I've been doing them too long to get the same adrenaline rush that I used to get with proper tasks, but I will do as the President tells me, for that is the job of the Districts: to serve and to obey. I am half-daydreaming about going back into action as our escort taps the microphone. It screams in the speakers, and everyone winces, though I keep my stock-still position, not showing any weaknesses before I volunteer for the Hunger Games. That's one thing the President cannot tell me to do. It's the only option I have, to make my life more interesting. And he won't help me get back to missions, so maybe if I become Victor he will see that he cannot control me any longer.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Welcome, everybody. Please wait quietly while your wonderful Mayor gives us the speech," our escort, Rosa Florie begins. She steps back from the cameras as Mayor begins the familiar speech that he gives every year. I have heard it told many a time at home in District 1, but the Mayor here says it with sadness, and with emotion lacking in his tone. It seems District 12 is definitely not a supporter of the Capitol, as my District has been for over a century. "Thank you, Mayor, for that wonderful story." Rosa claps modestly, not expecting anyone to clap with her. She finishes quickly, and picks out a slip.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Boys first, this year!" She explains, scanning the paper. "Trent Greer." I turn my head to an unfamiliar boy in the crowd. He his smiling, slightly laughing but drops his smiling face when Rosa looks at him in disgust. He isn't bad looking, though his poor rags of clothes are somewhat different to the fashions of the Capitol. "Hello, Trent!" He grins back, and I think Rosa is surprised to see such a cheery face at the Reapings, when most kids here are practically breaking down, trying to keep tears streaming from their face. "Well, it's nice to see a happy face," Rosa admits.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"It's nice to see you too!" Trent replies. I cannot decide whether he is being sarcastic or not. I will have to analyze him in training - his big build and broad shoulders show all the signs of a fighter.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Okay, girls! It's your turn!" Rosa continues, a beaming smile on her face. Trent has brought happiness to the saddest days of the year. "Alexis Jocasta!" The crowd moves to make way for the young girl, but before she can reach the stage I scream out 'I volunteer!'. For the second time today, Rosa has the look of shock but glee on her face. It's been forever since anyone volunteered in the Hunger Games. The last person do volunteer was Katniss Everdeen, in the 74th Hunger Games. Her little sister was traumatised at her death, but I laughed because District 1's Cato became Victor instead. Katniss was just another girl sent for slaughter. But I won't be. I run up on stage, a confident walk in my pace.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Well, what's your name?"

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Amy Clarke," I answer shortly. Rosa tilts her head, expecting more of an answer. But I am a girl of few words, so I shall keep to that motto. The fewest words can say the most, but give away the least about a person. Perhaps tributes will find me more of someone to be scared of if they do not know my strengths, my weaknesses, or my character. It will make it so much easier to frighten and surprise people away from making any attempts at attacking me.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"District Twelve, please give a round of applause for Trent Greer and Amy Clarke." A few monotone claps sound, but it comes from the Mayor and his family. Nobody else responds. "Come on District 12, show some respect for your volunteer and tribute!" Rosa urges desperately. People look up at her. The whole crowd puts their fingers to their lips, and raises them in the scarcely seen three fingered gesture. A rush of adrenaline surges through me. Rosa falls silent, and Trent stands still, knowing the gesture is not for him. I return the gesture, with a meek nod of my head. Maybe I underestimated the kindness of the District. I'd always thought my home District so much better, but now I see that the people here are some of the most honourable, selfless and respectful people in all of Panem.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">District 13 - Crimson Typhoon
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I run through the corridor of many apartments. The halls all seem the same in District 13, except from the 'road' numbers at the end of each corridor. I can't believe I still live in the dated underground bunkers that once held many soldiers and nuclear weapons - but the rooms are now like cells for the people to work in.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">I'm frightfully late to the Reapings, and the Peacekeepers are already on my case. If I don't volunteer in time, I won't get to save Connor. I won't save the only friend I've ever had. But I will save him, even if it means fighting to the death in the Hunger Games. I don't care whether I die or not, I just need to save him. He's the person who helped me become strong, and forget about wanting to commit suicide. My District threw me out after I was supposed of having 'magic' in me, only welcoming me back when I could get picked for slaughter in the Hunger Games. Connor's the only person who ever really believed in me. It might sound all soft and pathetic, but wouldn't you feel the same duty to save your friend?

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Boy! What are you doing!" A Peackeeper yells at me. I stop like a rabbit in the headlights. "You're late. Don't let me catch you late again, lad. You'll be in cuffs before you can say 'i volunteer'." Some Peacekeepers are light on the District 13 people on Reaping days, but others are painfully strict and practically lock us in our houses, for fear that we will commit some kind of mass crime. Our Mayor has already given the speech and shown the promo video, and the escort is about to read out the girl's name.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Shyvana..." The escort pauses. I'm not sure he's the smartest of people, when he's unable to read out a surname. "Feuer?" He guesses. A red-head girl emerges from the multi-coloured haired crowd. District 13 is much more eccentric than many others, if you hadn't guessed. The girl is dressed in a simple black tie-top that goes across her shoulder, and our escort nods at her surprising fashion sense. Reaping day is the only day that us kids get to put on normal clothes, and not just the horrific grey bulgy uniforms that we are forced to work and 'play' in, though in my case, I never spend much time playing. Shyvana steps up onto the stage.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Well, Shyvana, what do you have to say to your District and the audience?" She nods. She is handed the microphone with a rebellious glare in her eye.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"District 13 and the Capitol! I am doing this, not of my own asking, but of the Capitol's bloodthirsty request. You don't know what the Capitol is doing and has done to District 13. Have you not noticed the changes? Once, we were stronger than the Capitol itself. What happened to us? Nobody suddenly becomes weak - for years we lived in peace, without the tyrannical reign of President Rome. Why have you all given up? We were once so powerful. What happened to our glorious city of hope? We could have been the spark of the fire that all the Districts haave been waiting for. The Capitol has hurt so many of us - both in the Hunger Games and wars we didn't wish to fight. They killed my father. Listen to me, and realise that none of us are weak - we have just stopped trying. Begin a rebelli-" Peacekeepers rushed on stage and punched Shyvana on the cheek, instantly knocking her out. Obviously they were done with this outspoken girl, even though her speech would be edited out from the Reaping videos. I know who Shyvana is. She's the orphaned daughter of a high-placed soldier, a man who was killed in a war. It was no wonder she was trying to raise the Districts against the Capitol. I couldn't live with them killing my close family members. That's why I must volunteer for Connor. To save him. She didn't get a chance to save her close ones, so it makes me the more eager to take advantage of the oppurtunity I have been given, whether or not it shall be a successfull risk to take.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Let's continue. Boys now," Our escort adds hastily. A slip is selected, and he takes time reading it. "Brahmos-"

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"I VOLUNTEER!" I yell with highest volume I can reach. Our escort welcomes me on stage and a 12-year-old heaves a sigh of relief as he realises I have taken his place. I nod at him, and he smiles weakly at me. In some ways, he reminds me of Connor. But I will probably never see Connor again. The last time I saw him was when he was captured, and I was told I must volunteer for the Games or he would be killed immediately after the boys' name was called out.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Well, what's your name young man? You are brave to volunteer," Our escort states, handing me the microphone hesitantly. He often does interviews, but I'd be sceptical of handing me the mic after Shyvana's outbreak of rebelliousness.

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"Crimson Typhoon."

<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-bidi; mso-bidi-theme-font: major-bidi;">"That's a very interesting name. Well, Crimson, have you got anything to say to the District 13 crowd?" I nod my head, not quite sure what I'm doing. I take the microphone in my hand, shaking.

Shyvana's right. We could be so much more than an oppressed city. I'm risking my life to save the life of my friend. They are oppressing me right now, and I can't do anything about it. But you can." Peacekeepers take my arms and take me to the train, not brutally beating me, but with batons poking into my sides just in case I decide to break out like my fellow District partner had. But she was right, and I totally agreed with her. Maybe if i won, I could organise a rebellion, within the secrecy of my Victor's village home.

Day 1 - Bloodbath
Aislyn Latona D8

Sixty seconds. I've only got sixty seconds to scan the area. All I can see is a huge lagoon around the tribute platforms. Sixty. At the centre of the platforms is a tiny island holding the huge Cornucopia. It's a very strange shape this year. It's a huge glass structure with one entrance that is also the only exit. Fifty seconds left. There are steps that stretch around it that hang precariously on the side, leading up to a roof-garden if you could call it that. Forty seconds left. I assume that there will be valuable and the most useful supplies on the roof-garden, though the trees growing on it hide the precious items. Thirty seconds left. My heart starts racing, and I can see other tributes readying themselves for the first day of the Hunger Games. Twenty seconds left. I spot a bow hanging from a branch on the roof garden, though it is too close to the steps. It's too dangerous. I'd be dead in five minutes up there. Ten seconds left. At the centre of the Cornucopia are a whole pile of small knives, backpacks and survival supplies. It seems all the weapons are on the roof. Nine seconds left. I wonder how I am going to swim to the small island, but I decide that I will grab anything dead tributes' will leave with their corpses. Nine seconds left. To both sides of me are Careers. I better keep out of their way. But how am I even going to reach the island? My swimming is awful. Eight seconds left. My heart is beating at an alarming rate, and I have to breathe slowly to calm myself. It seems the seconds keep ticking past. The gong sounds. There are a few shouts of surprise, and I dive into the water. The cold shock of the icy waves made my body stun for a second. I open my eyes, but unbearable salt water gets into them and I just have to swim forwards, in the hope I will not collide with another tribute. My lungs contract too quickly, and I cannot hold my breath longer than ten seconds. I rise up, and take a huge breath. Some tributes are struggling in the cold water, as I am. A few have already made it to the island, and have grabbed weapons. Clearly they're Careers. I dive back under, and just hope I'll survive.

Suddenly, a spear sails through the water beside me. Part of the blade catches my ankle, and I scream, but revolting water fills my mouth. I grab the weapon, and go back up to the surface. I cough up water and salt and I could almost puke. Odin Amarth is standing by the shore with evil eyes. I take one look at him and swim away. I know I am weak but I've no other choice. I see a small range of mountains in the far distance. It'll be about a 1800 metre swim, but I can make it. I will make it.

Odin Amarth D1
I watch disappointedly as my spear sails past Aislyn. I know that I have missed, but at least I have injured her slightly. I still have my gallant sword, at least. I charge back to the Cornucopia, knowing other tributes will make it to the island soon. I am glad that the Careers' have excellent swimming ability for we have been able to reach the supplies all the more quicker. I have doubts about the girl from District 7, however. She hasn't made it to the island yet, and I'm kind of hoping she has been killed. She has one of the most annoying voices I have ever come across. And in District 1, there are so many.

"Odin, watch your back!" My ally Petri yells at me as he begins to pile up supplies on the rooftop. He has already taken all the water bottles up there, alongside the weapon stash. Coming up behind me is a boy I am unfamiliar to, and he is armed with a huge throwing knife, which surprises me as the only weapons are on the rooftop. I ready my sword, and take a slash at him. He craftily doges my attack, and makes a jab in the direction of my stomach. I manage to jump out of the way just in time. I am much taller than he, but he is at the perfect height to stab me in the heart or stomah. I retreat a little, waiting for him to come to me. He propels his knife forwards in the air, and it just skims my shoulder. I heave a sigh of relief to know I will not be killed at his hands. I glare at him as he knows he is defenceless, and I still have my sword. I punch him on the temple, and he his knocked immediately to the hard ground. I point the sword at his neck, drawing droplets of fresh blood. He begs whole-heartedly for mercy. I shake my head, and bury the sword in his forehead. Blood seeps out like a food, and I draw back my weapon to assist Petri up on the rooftop. My first kill is complete.

Oceania Seacrest D4
I am one of the first non-Careers to reach the island. There are only three or so tributes here, but soon many will be arriving. I spot most of the weapons on the rooftop, but a tribute is up there already. Perhaps I can take him on. I run past Odin and his opponent's corpse, and head straight up the steps. I violently push the tribute down, and he collapses in bewilderment, like he never saw me coing. I take a backpack while I still have time. I spot a trident close by that has been annoyingly indented in a tree, probably to cause more drama in fights between tributes. I struggle to pull it free as my opposing tribute gets back to his feet. I scream at him, but he ignores me and continues to get closer, armed with a sickeningly sharp knife that he has handily just picked up. My heart is racing, and I don't know what to do next. Should I abandon the trident and run? But it's the only way I can protect myself - but is it worth the risk?

I've won before. I can do it again. I yank the trident out with all my might, and the end of the handle knocks the oncoming tribute in the face. It knocks him out and I smile a little. I don't bother killing him because Odin is running up the steps to come to his ally's aid. I take the trident and backpack and jump off the Cornucopia rooftop. I land with a hard thud, and my knees buckle. A shooting pain runs up my left ankle. I limp to the shore of the island, and scan for a part of the ocean that isn't occupied by a tribute. There is only one direction - and that leads directly to the banks of a forest. There will be a long swim to reach it, and it might cause my ankle more pain. But if I've learnt anything from my last Games, it's to never give up. I see if there is any blood around my leg where I damaged it, but it is relieving to know that there is no red liquid. I grasp my trident tightly in my fist, and sling the fluorescent green bag on my back. It is lightweight, but I can hear the tinkling of metal inside which sounds promising. With my eyes open for danger, I dive back under the cold sea.

Alyssa Mason D7
For some reason I am taking forever to reach the island. I've passed about six other tributes, and one with an ankle pouring out blood into the cold saltwater. When I reach the shore, I see that someone is already dead. Matthew, I think. I ignore his pale corpse and run as fast as I can to the Cornucopia, but someone blocks the path I have taken. A girl, I thin named Nymph, is reaching to get a fallen backpack that is hanging hopefully from the side of the Cornucopia. She spots me and screams. Her defeaning yell makes me stunned for a second. She runs up to me, and shoves me to the floor, yelling about someone stealing her teapots. She knocks me in the face, punches my stomach and then stands on my calf with her huge boots. They have some kind of studs on them. Holes are left all up the right side of my calf, and the pain is unbearable. Blood covers the whole of my leg as I am left yelling in the dirt - calling help from my allies. Nobody returns my call. My enemy sprints back to her backpack, and pulls it down. The rip of fabric echoes in my ears. Out spills a few knives, about fifty darts, a bottle of purple poison and  a sturdy metal slingshot. Nymph's eyes widen in surprise of sudden luck. My heart thuds, and I know it could be the last time my heart beats. I yell and scream, and stumble onto my left foot, only to fall down again. Now I really am in trouble.

I see Odin up on the rooftop, and I call his name desperately. He spots me, helplessly sprawled about the ground. He shrugs and continues helping his closest ally: Petri. I know he has never liked me, but I figured he'd at least try to save me. The freakish, psychotic girl named Nymph is approaching. There is nothing I can do as she spreads the kife with a deep-purple liquid. She slashes the weapon down my ribs. I sceram with pain. I can see my blood-red ribs barely holding in my major organs. The purple liquid makes my organs contract and become a shrivelled shape. My lungs get smaller and smaller, and I can feel the life literally escaping out of me. It feels like I am drowning. My head thuds, and the last thing I hear is my cannon.

Star Sunkin D6
My sister and I swim side-by-side as we make our way to the island. Despite our age differences, I am the faster swimmer and Luna struggles to keep up. I pull her above surface so she can catch her breath back. We’ve not been swimming in years, and we’re out of practice. A few are dead already, and the sight of their lifeless corpses laying on the island scares me. There are about six of us still in the water, or swimming away. The rest are fighting for supplies with no avail. Luna and I bob above the surface, deciding what approach to take. If we wait too long, the Careers will have full control of the Cornucopia and there will not be enough tributes left to keep them busy.

“We’ve got to get backpacks, at least,” my sister suggests. I shake my head. The backpacks have been mostly taken, or kept hidden by the Careers. A girl named Pharmacy has been appointed to keep them in a separate pile on the rooftop, though a few have been accidentally cast out into the ocean, or been randomly placed in the water by the Gamemakers. I shake my head. “What are we going to do, then?” She asks hopefully. I don’t know. I haven’t a clue, and my legs and arms are starting to tire of keeping my body afloat. Suddenly, a voice calls our name from the nearest shore. It’s Rebekah, I think, and she’s got a backpack. She’s standing beside Trent Greer and an unfamiliar person. I drag my sister forwards, and we swim as fast as we can with what energy we have left.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">As we reach the shore, Rebekah runs into the water, yelling our names. We are too far to understand what she’s saying. Luna tells me that she is warning us of something. I turn my head and an angry tribute is swimming towards us like a shark. We suddenly realise that he is not a member of our alliance. I push Luna ahead of me, and she runs up onto the sand, weighed down by the water that is pouring off of her. Rebekah takes her hand and gives her a knife from the backpack. I am still ankle-deep in the water, and the tribute is coming after me quicker than I can run. He draws out a crossbow.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">“RUN STAR!” Trent yells as he grabs my arm and pushes me forwards. The tribute stands stock-still in the water and reveals a crossbow. It’s much better than the simple knives we have. He loads it, and takes a shot at Trent. Thankfully, it misses.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">“I’m gon’ kill you!” The boy yells. “Nick’s going to kill you!” The tribute yells. Nick Machlachlan. That’s his name. Luna runs up to him with her knife, dodging arrows. She stabs him in the chest in a vicious rage to protect our alliance. He draws his terminal breath, and falls into the water. An airship flies overhead to pick up his body. My sister turns around to face me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">"Luna..." I begin. I can't believe she's just killed someone. <h4 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Blaine Fitz D10 I've made it to the banks, but not of the Cornucopia island. The Careers were swarming and had already made a kill there, so I'd swam as far away from it as possible. There was no hope of retrieving anything now, but at least I'd managed to find Kalmah (4M), Alexandria (10F) and Rubin (11M) on the way. But Oceania was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had been killed, or escaped...

I don't know. I've never been in this situation before.

"Where is she?" Kalmah asks impatiently. We are totally unprotected here on the shore, and the Careers could swim over at any moment, or we could be ambushed by other alliances. All I could think of was to find a place to stay in the forest while we figured out a plan to get weapons, supplies and Oceania.

"I don't know where she is! I haven't seen her anywhere. But we've got to get moving - other tributes will be on the hunt," I answer him quickly. I'm not sure what to do as leader of my alliance. Oceania was our best chance of getting past the first few days, and without her, we were no better than any other alliances. We had no advantage. I'd seen another alliance group on the other end of the banks, and they had weapons. Good ones. One of them had already made a kill, in plain sight. It wouldn't be long before they came after us as well.

"Well, we've got to do something!" Alexandria exlaims. "We can't just stay here out in the open!" It seems I am not the only one that is freaking out.

"I agree," Rubin adds shortly. Up until now, he's not said a word to any of us.

"Let's get going then," I decide. Kalmah rolls his eyes crossly and makes the way through the undergrowth. I am definitely not cut out to be the leader of an alliance. I just hope that we can find Oceania in time.

Petri Lindroos D2
I wake up with a pounding headache. Scarlett is sat beside me with a pot of cream. It's kind of a white colour, though someone's blood has stained it. I frown. How has one of the Careers become injured? I sit up abruptly but Scarlett pushes me down forcefully. Amy Clarke is standing over us both, and Odin is talking with Beemo about something.

"Stop pushing me!" I yell furiously, as Scarlett pushes me down for the second time. My head is searing with pain, but it's not enough to keep me from fighting in the Hunger Games. Pathetic headaches won't kill me.

"Well, unless you want to bleed to death I suggest that you stay down, Petri," Scarlett says sarcastically, smearing some of the white-red cream onto my left temple. It seems I am the one that has been injured... but how? I can't remember fighting with anyone. Amy hands Scarlett a yellow and white pill to give to me. I swallow it reluctantly. How can I trust either of them? How do they know if it's the right pill to take?

After about five minutes, the headache is gone. Odin hands me a backpack and his sword. I grab a knife too but leave it hanging solidly on my belt in case I need it.

"What happened to me?" I demand angrily, wiping away dried blood from my head.

"You were hit in the head with the end of a trident," Amy explains, biting her lip to stop herself laughing. I glare at  her, and she stops.

"We're going to find the girl that attacked you - Oceania," Beemo tells me happily, sharpening the silver spear that is locked tightly in her grasp. "Or do you want to keep watch with Amy?" She has an absent-minded look on her face. Her light blue hair comes across her forehead, and she looks oddly pretty. It makes me unnerved. I blink. I will not fall for whatever plans she has set for me. It seems like the Careers are not the strongest alliance - yet. "You coming with us?" Beemo asks.

"Oceania won't stand a chance," I smile.

<h4 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"> Brandon Ivey D7 To be honest, I am completely surprised at myself. I've managed to survive the Bloodbath, and escape the island, without confronting anybody else, though I kind of wish I'd made up an alliance. I begin trekking through the forest, and pick up whatever might help me make weapons or find food. I grab a sharp rock, and a thick branch that might serve me as a spear if I modify it. As I search for a good tree to climb, I file the top of the branch to a sharp point. It might not be the best of weapons, but it'll do. At least I have something to protect myself with. Content with my make-shift weapon, I grab a branch of one of the trees. The foliage here is all very tall, and most of the bushes stand over my head, most of the trees reaching well over fourty feet. I'm sure the Gamemakers are hiding creatures somewhere in these thick jungle canopies, though I doubt they'd introduce them so early on. I hoist myself up onto the fourth branch up of a small tree, and sit down quietly, waiting for the night to come. If I'm lucky, I might get a parachute after the Fallen are shown. I trust my mentor enough to know he'll help me when times get tough, but the chances of getting one now is unlikely. If I stick it out, I might get to kill a tribute and then steal their weapons! I smile at the thought of my ingenious plan.

Suddenly, I hear a faint noise. It sounds like something big. Is it a mutt? I ponder the question, holding my spear tightly. From the undergrowth, a dark-haired rat-like creature scuttles across the skinny branch opposite me. I heave a sigh of relief that it's not big enough to kill me. Light flashes in my eyes, and I look up to the sky to see if it is the sun. But any sunlight is shrouded by the tree canopy. I look back at the rat. In it's mouth it holds something shiny. I jump over to it, holding on like a monkey to get a closer look. I capture the creature in my hands. It squirms and squeaks, but I stab it through the stomach, and it dies immediately. The blood soaks all over my fingers, but I am glad that I at least have some meat that I can cook when evening comes. I grasp the shiny item that the rat corpse still holds in its mouth. It looks like some sort of key to a doorway - or maybe a safe of some kind? I rub the blood off the item, and stuff it in my pocket. A key! What possible use could I have of a key? But this doesn't seem like a common coincidence. Maybe the Gamemakers have something planned for us tributes...

Nymph Meré D1
I meet with Mother on the beach. The glass house is empty now, except for one sleeping girl. I decide not to wake her - Mother's always been my good conscience. I smile as she helps me pack my bag, though it's a struggle as it's ripped and the darts keeping slipping through. I groan, and give up, tossing the bag aside till later. My mother begs for a cup of tea, but I can't see any of her favourite herbs around to make it with. I collect some firewood and begin attempting to light a fire. Mother chats to me happily, telling me that whatever tea I make is delicious. I blush at her compliment. At last, the kindling I have collected begins to glow and I coax it to catch onto the dry sticks I've laid out. Soon, a thick golden glow is blazing in front of me. I've nothing to hold my water in, so there's no chance of making Mother's tea. But the Voice my head tell me I can. It whispers around, discussing the best way to collect water. It mentions the girl on the glass house rooftop, and I shake my head. But it keeps screaming at me to go and steal weapons from her. Mother looks sad, and is flopping lazily on the sandy bank of the lagoon. Knowing I am defeated, the Voice instructs me to grab my weapons and get some supplies.

Armed with a slingshot, poisoned darts and sturdy knife I swim over, making sure I keep my whole body underwater as long as possible. I occasionally surface to have a silent breath, and I sometimes look over my shoulder to check that Mother is faring okay next to the fire. The Glass house is silent, except the slow, annoying hum of the girl's snores. I tiptoe up the steps, and search around their piles of supplies for a water bottle.

Suddenly, a frightful yell comes from the beach. It's Mother, and she's pointing out a group of people, all armed and with disappointed but bloodthirsty looks on their face. The Voice tells me to run, but I need to get a bottle.

"RUN!" It booms at me. I cover my ears with my hands and keep rifling through the pile with my feet, quietly - though a metal knife wallops against a sword and sends a ring through the air, immediately waking the girl. She looks at me in surprise and grabs the closest weapon to her. The Voice stops yelling at me and softly murmurs that I should kill her. Quietly, and before the armed group can reach me. The girl runs at me. I don't think she has spotted the group on the other side of the shore, who are now shouting and pointing. They've discovered me, and it won't be long till they've swam over and are attempting to kill me.

Amy Clarke D12
I hadn't even seen her coming. I must have drifted off to sleep while the rest went hunting. Nymph comes running at me with her knife that is dripping with blood. I assume Alyssa's, though she could have been killed by anyone. She was always going to be the weak one. I grasp a knife like her's, though I make sure I am within arm-length of a spear, just in case. I run at my enemy, and she dodges me. I turn and see a blade coming towards my face. It just skims my cheek, but rips off some of the skin with it. I feel blood dripping down my face, put I push on knowing this injury won't kill me. I run at the girl again, but she twists her body an awkward way and brings a fist to my shoulder. I am knocked back onto the floor, and it takes me a while to get my vision into focus. But I don't have a while. Nymph is already preparing her slingshot to take an aim at me, but I roll out the way, the poison splashing onto my face as the dart lands solidly in the ground. My eyes widen. My cheeks are already bleeding - the acid in the poison makes them burn, and it literally feels like my flesh is melting away. I hear footsteps and yelling nearby. My alliance has come to my rescue. I heave a sigh of relief, but they are not here yet. Nymph looks panicked, but stuffs a water bottle under her arm, her weapons still in hand.

"AMY!" I recognise Odin's voice. "Just hang in there!" Pounding footsteps rattle the whole of the Cornucopia.

"Burn," Nymph says briskly. I frown, and run at her with my knife, but she leaps out of the way and knocks my weapon out of my hand. I scream. The poison is melting into my muscle now. I can't take the pain any longer. My freakish enemy takes hold of a bottle of poison from our supply stash, and cocks her head like a confused puppy. "Hot water makes you burn," She whispers, and tips the whole pot on my head, fingering the bottle tentatively. I scream, and can see her jump down from the Cornucopia just as my alliance arrives on the rooftop. In one dive, she is gone, but she's made her mark. The poison is cutting away, fizzling my flesh and rotting my face right down to the bone. Scarlett shrieks as she sees the state of me, and Petri drops to his knees in fear. But Odin is near tears. It's unlike him. He cradles my head in his hands, and I drop my shoulders back onto his lap.

"Amy, you'll be fine," Odin says quietly, though is voice is wavering. I smile, though half my cheeks have disappeared, leaving hot red flesh hanging off the bone, bubbling like soda. "Hey, Pharmacy, grab those bandages, please," Odin orders calmly.

"It's okay, Odin," I murmur. Even speaking hurts. My hair falls in burnt tresses around me. The poison is working it's way to my skull. There's no hope for me. Odin refuses, and still wraps my head tightly in white bandages. They immediately become clogged with liquified skin, twitching muscle and veins that hang like threads. The acid completely burns away the bandages, and they just fall back in Odin's hands. I smile at him. "Win for me."

"No, you can win this, Amy, okay?" Odin is convincing himself more than he is convincing me. He rests his cheek on mine. This is strange, but perhaps a good way to go.

"Let me go, Odin. Please."

'''BOOM! '''

Yoshi Holiday D8
I shudder. The night has been cold, and I've only got my jacket for extra warmth, but it'll keep me alive, at least. My backpack that I fished from the ocean has been my life-line. It helped me float to the shore when i could not swim - it must have some kind of buoyancy fabric in it. Inside, there was a 100m length rope, an empty water skin, one single lighter and a stretchy plastic canopy that I assume could be used as either a shelter, or something to wrap yourself in for warmth. I have stretched it across two trees to shield me from most of the weather, though the humid forest still makes things damp whatever the weather may be. I also used it to conceal the smoke from the fire during the night, which could be a life-saver in the Arena.

I untie the rope that has kept the sheet over my head and stuff it in my backpack. Quietly, I butt out the dying embers in my fire with my black boots. I smile contentedly to myself as I whisper goodbye to my camp. I begin to trek through the Arena.

I am being sure to leave a trail of burn marks on certain trees so I can find my way back, though I am careful not to do this too often as it could waste the gas in the lighter, and could make my path traceable. I check that my footsteps are not left dented in the mud - people could quite easily track me. I hop over logs and dodge twisted roots emerging like zombies from the sodden forest floor. I can feel my lips getting dry and cracked. I haven't had a single sip of a drink since the day I left the Capitol, except accidentally swallowing some of the salty water in the ocean while escaping the Bloodbath. All I can think of is clear, icy water...

I shake my head into focus. My eyes are becoming constantly blurred and my head is thumping like a herd of elephants are thundering around up there. "Yoshi!" I hiss crossly. I cannot let this thirstiness stop me finding the very thing I need. Water. I must keep myself going. I enjoy watching people suffer, but not myself! I sieve the dry mud through my fingers. They fall like sand back to the floor. There is no water here. I start to walk slowly downhill, as I've been stumbling up slopes for the past half an hour.

My feet start to ache terribly. I am sweating excessively because of the humidity, but I cannot afford to lose anymore liquids, and I have to stop myself from going to the toilet to save whaterver I can. I pass leaves dropping with condensed water, and I store it carefully in my water skin, ensuring that each droplet enters the open cap. I do not drink any of it, however. I will save it until I really need it. I move past the leaves quickly as the landscape is levelling out, much to my delight. My legs need a little rest, even if they keep moving. I'm sure I'm getting near some kind of river, or lagoon, as I can hear the splash of water against rocks. A clearing opens up in the thick bushes, and I can see water. The sight of so much fresh water makes me dizzy. But then I realise it's not the sight making me dizzy. It's dehydration. I feel woozy, and my tongue stops salivating. My headache rattles terribly, and I yawn deeply. I've no time to realise what is happening to me, because that's when I black out.

Katarina Seacrest D5
I see an airship fly over the Cornucopia. The Careers have just lost their second member. I smile. That gives me more time to take out Oceania before they can start searching for her again. I've seen that Nymph girl. She's a definite threat. Two kills already, I think. But I won't take her on as a target. I've already got to find Oceania. I know she's injured, I saw her limp away from the Bloodbath like a wounded animal. I tie up my hair with a skinny jungle vine to keep it out of my face as I follow someone's tracks. I'm not sure who's tracks they are, exactly, but from the size of the shoe makrs I'm guessing it's a big girl, or small boy. Oceania's always been a bit taller and longer-footed than the other girls, so I really hope that these are her tracks. My only misson in these Games is to kill her.

I look up to the sky, and hear the birds fluttering overhead. Something has startled them to fly away. Maybe a tribute? I hope. I crouch down to the ground, and much to my delight, there are clear signs that somebody has been there, and recently.

There are fresh indents in the mud, and a few heavier footprints left. It seems that my 'lovely' cousin has been limping her way through the Games, probably on her right foot from what the tracks show me. I laugh. My chances of killing her are as high as ever, especially considering I have a huge, curved knife that could easily hack her to death. The thought makes me gleam with pride and excitement. I can't wait for the moment when I will see her blood on my hands, and her ugly face in the sky. She beat me once. She will not beat me again. I follow the tracks as far as I can, but the ground starts to dry out the further I follow them, and the tracks start to fade along with the moisture. I punch the ground as I realise that I've lost whoever I've been following. I scream out loud. All I want is ONE kill! Is that too much too ask?!

"Hey, calm down!" Someone yells from the trees. I look up and see nothing but birds. I definitely heard a voice, though. I can see rustling leaves up there, but the thickness of the canopy forbids me to see any kind of mutt, or tribute, or any animal! My frustration mounts as the voice continues.

"I've seen you. Tracking. I'm not a stupid person," The voice says. I narrow my eyes, and spot a shadow in the trees. I have my target, though the person is so high up I would never be able to reach them with my curved scythe. But they gcould easily send a spear plummeting down towards me.

"What's your name?" I demand furiously.

"Aislyn. District Eleven," She replies. I smile. She's a loner too, though a bit dumb, despite her claim that she's not stupid. I think she somehow got injured too, and swam to the mountains... But if she... that means that... It means that I'm there too! Oceania... she was... she went the complete other way! That means I've been tracking the completely wrong person! I yell, and thrust my scythe in the air. Aislyn catches it in her grasp, almost magically as it glints in the little light that is thrusting through the canopy. "So, Katarina, how about an alliance, huh?"

Shyvana Feuer D13
I collapse on a dry log that is handily placed in a small clearing. I've been searching for kills all day, but this arena is huge. I got half way up a mountain on Day 1 and killed a goat. Other than that, I've seen nobody. But at least I've managed to craft two knives out of the goat's sturdy horns. I pick out the remaining chunks of the goat meat that I cooked, and munch slowly on a particularly soft piece, savouring every bite. At least I won't die of hunger here. I examine my backpack for the second time, just to check that I hadn't left anything up on my old mountain camp. I heave a sigh of relief. Everything's there: the torch, the small bottle of iodine, the blowgun, the night vision glasses and an extra jacket. I think it's one of the best in the Games. It gives me the ability to search during the night, and the jacket has definitely helped during the frosty nights. It even ensures the safety of whatever water I drink! I climb up a tree and have a few minutes' rest. I have trekked down a mountain, after all. Though all I've seen are birds and the Arena, but no potential kills unfortunately.

Suddenly, I hear a groan from nearby. I scan the tree canopy and the ground around me, but I see nobody. I swiftly drop back down to the ground, and ready my ivory-knives, as I call them. Another groan echoes through the forest. I pull myself through tough thickets of brambles and thorns. A white dog-rose attaches itself to my trouser leg, but I don't have time or the effort to pull it off. I continue through the undergrowth until I come across heavy tracks; like someone has practically dragged themselves away from me. I smile. Perhaps this will be my first kill? I run alongside the tracks, but I am wary, as this 'groaning' could just be a Johanna Mason move. Then the groaning gets louder, and louder. I assume this is not a trap. Only people in real pain and distress would cause such a noise. But then it falls silent. I dart my eyes across the never ending green of the forest. There is no sign of life anywhere.

"Help..." Someone murmurs. I pull away at bushes, and spot the boot of a tribute. I grin, and rip away at the plants, until I finally reveal a male tribute. It's Yoshi Holiday (D8). "Please...mercy..." Yoshi moans. I'm not quite sure what he means by 'mercy' considering we're in the Hunger Games. I sit beside him, though I don't think he can see me as his eyes are closed with either exhaustion or dehydration - or both. "Mercy," He whispers. He can barely move his lips. He's as dry as a bone and the humidity hasn't seemed to affect his sweat levels. Probably because he's dying of thirst. It just seems to easy. I have always questioned why the districts have never rebelled against the deaths of innocent people that takes place ceremoniously every year. Why are we just letting the Capitol control us like we are cattle? Cattle sent for slaughter...

"Sorry, Yoshi. It's the Hunger Games. The Capitol just wants to see the murders of innocent young children. See you when I die, yeah? Hope you like this, President Rome. Does death make you happy?" I say normally. I hope they see what they are causing. I say 'sorry' to Yoshi in my head. He will just be another piece in their Games. I plung the ivory knife into Yoshi's head, and it's over immediately for him. I'm doing this for my own survival. And he would have died anyway, either by dehydration or another tribute. I remove the weapon from his chest just as the cannon sounds. Something scratches my hand. It's the dog rose that caught on my trouser leg. Only now it is soaked with blood. "I hope his death is worth your happiness, President."

Rubin Jett D11
<span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">One day has passed and we still haven’t found Oceania. It seems that Blaine Fitz has become our leader. I’m not cut out to be the head of an alliance, anyway. Though Blaine doesn’t seem exactly fitting of it either. Kalmah is forever getting annoyed with him, and Alexandria struggles to keep peace between all of us. I don’t think this alliance is going to last long without Oceania. We’ve taken camp near the shore against Kalama’s wishes. And mine. It’s too dangerous to camp near the Cornucopia where the Careers are, and there is another alliance on the other side of the Cornucopia Island. It is definitely too risky here, though I won’t say anything. I choose not to get involved with problems – they just get me into trouble.

<span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">"Guys, we've got to make a move," Blaine suggests, picking up his weapon and backpack. I am happy that we have been able to arm ourselves, at least. Though Kalmah was given the weaker share of the weapons, much to his dismay and Blaine's delight. He and Blaine positively hate each other but if we find Oceania maybe she can help us.

<span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“Why?” Kalmah objects sarcastically. He knows why, he’s just choosing to be an annoying... maybe I’ll stop there. Bad language doesn’t fare well with sponsors.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“Because we need to find Oceania. Problem?” Blaine answers coolly. Alexandria looks up from the ground warily. If those two were to break out in a fight, she’d have no choice but to run. I could easily come after her, though I’ve come to like Alexandria as a friend. But if the time came, I would definitely kill her. I lost my brother to the Hunger Games, and I will not lose myself to a stupid and brutal battle. But I doubt Alexandria will make many kills. She’ll use her intelligence to survive, I reckon. Just like a girl in the 74th Hunger Games... I can’t remember her name, but most of the tributes named her Foxface.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“Let’s go,” Alexandria agrees, starting to head deeper into the forest. I follow quickly, standing beside her so we can scan for Oceania more easily. Kalmah and Rubin split off to different ends of the line - Kalmah stands next to Alexandria, and Blaine stands next to me. He’d be a nice person if he wasn’t in the Hunger Games, I think. We get on well, though I could never call him a friend. Not in these circumstances.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">After ten minutes of searching, we hear a cannon. We follow where we heard the noise, and to my surprise, we see a young boy, Yoshi, I think, being raised up into the sky. His murderer has left already, though we are careful not to come across them. I think we are all desperately hoping that Oceania is nearby. Our alliance speeds up the search, and it isn’t long before Kalmah gives a shout.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“Over here!” He calls. Alexandria is the first to run over, and I see her face fall when she reaches Kalmah. I run over. There is no Oceania, but there are fresh tracks, which suggest that someone has been here recently. That gives us all enough hope to carry on. “It might be her,” Kalmah suggests. Blaine narrows his eyes.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“I doubt that. There are so many of us left, and a cannon sounded a second ago. They could just be on the hunt,” Blaine objects. I roll my eyes. He’s just got himself into more trouble. Kalmah would rip his throat out right now if they weren’t allies. They won’t kill each other till the numbers of tributes fall to at least twelve. They are both of use to each other. Alexandria waits for the arguing to begin, but Kalmah seems to have quietened now that we have a chance of finding Oceania. “But let’s follow them anyway,” Blaine decides wisely. Kalmah and Alexandria seem to be the better trackers, so they lead us on which gives me and Blaine a chance to talk. He is an okay person to be with, but I wouldn’t exactly want to fight against him – I’ve always been skinny because of my lack of food. But Blaine – he’s well equipped to kill me now if he wanted to. I’d put up a fight, though I doubt I’d stand much of a chance.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“Who do you think we’re tracing?” Blaine asks. I wonder why he would want my opinion on things.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“Don’t know,” I reply. Blaine begins to pick some berries off a bush. I analyse them carefully as he collects a few of them to fill up his pouch. Just as he is about to put one in his mouth, I suddenly realise what berries they are. “Don’t eat those,” I interrupt. He looks at me, confused. “Nightlock.” Blaine chucks them out of his hands, and rubs his hands all over his trousers and jacket to get the deadly berry juice off of him. Without me, he’d have made a brutal mistake. Stupid Blaine. Some people just don’t learn.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“You’re kind of smart. Thanks,” Blaine says quietly. I can tell he is shaking. I think he is realising that he could die so easily – even without the threat of tributes. He is definitely not the smartest person in this Arena, but he is strong and makes a good ally. I just hope we find Oceania soon so that he doesn’t break out into a war with Kalmah. I’ve never trusted that boy. He has that kind of look on his face that suggests he’s a cold-blooded killer on the inside. But he seems to only have one mood at the moment – anger. I make a mental note to keep one eye open at all times. All of a sudden, Alexandria gives a pleased shout.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“I’ve found her!” She yells. We all run over, but poor Oceania is lying helplessly behind a thick bush. “What’s wrong?” Alexandria asks our ally. There comes no reply, and the Arena is as silent as ever. This strong Victor has been reduced to a vegetable, dying slowly on the ground. She is emaciated and deadly dry. Her collar bones are almost cutting through her skin, and her face is just skin and bone, dark shadows around her eyes where her bones create shadows. Her cheeks are sharp-edged and a small flap of skin stretches over them like the tightened skin of a drum. I hand my dehydrated ally a water skin and she sips carefully. Everyone sits around her, as Alexandria points out her leg. Oceania’s ankle has swollen to the size of a rugby ball, and she has clearly ripped her trousers to make the fabric fit around her red swelling. I wonder how long Oceania has been lying here – and surely it couldn’t have been Oceania who caused that cannon to sound? “What happened to you?” Alexandria enquires worriedly, sharing her dried beef with our injured ally.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">“I escaped the Cornucopia... I jumped... Twisted my ankle, I think,” Oceania stutters croakily, wolfing down Alexandria’s beef hungrily. How has she survived two days with a badly twisted ankle? “I ate all the food in my backpack and drank most of the water,” She explains. She is refreshed enough to speak properly. I question whether we should have even bothered searching for her. With that ankle, she’ll use up most of our food and water supplies, and possibly medicine supplies if we receive or retrieve any. “But my ankle swelled after swimming away from the Cornucopia. I made it to a tree, but I couldn’t climb, so I rubbed dirt all over my face and masked the fresh linen scent of my clothes with dung. Tributes that couldn’t stand the smell were turned away,” Oceania finishes quietly. I hadn’t even noticed the terrible smell, but now it was so pungent we all had to hold our nose. “Thanks for looking for me guys. I thought I was a gonner.” Kalmah smiles.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">This is the first time I have seen him show any sign of happiness. But this is not the happiness of finding our leader, but happiness that he knows there is one less tribute to worry about. Alexandria jabs him in the elbow.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"> <span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif";">"Well, you're safe now."

<h4 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Trent Greer D12

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Our alliance gathers in a small camp in the very depths of the woods, marked by deep grooves made in the trees. We foraged for most of Day 1 in pairs, and agreed to meet back here as soon as we could. Crimson and I went off together and Gaara decided to go with Rebekah. Star and Luna paired off together of course, though poor Luna still hasn't recovered from her first kill. I never expected her to be so protective of her brother when that tributer was coming after us... She was the one I thought most unlikely to make a kill.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Rebekah, despite her young age, has taken up the position of Co-Leader seeing as Luna isn't quite up to the job. She's a nice girl, Rebekah, though something keeps bothering her. She's not one to voice her feelings out loud, though I can definitely tell there is something wrong. Our whole alliance seems to be depressed. I decided to cheer everyone up as we share our retrieved food and supplies.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">"Is that goat?" Rebekah asks Crimson as he reveals a small pouch of chunky red goat meat. It was mine and Crimson's main kill; that mountain goat is going to last us all at least another whole day, though I don't know how we are going to cook it. Crimson nods and gives her a handful of pieces. She smiles thankfully and trades the goat meat for a whole bird breast. "Gosh, I love goat meat so much! It's rare in my District - but way better than Capitol food."

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">"Anything is better than the Capitol food!" I joke. Nobody laughs, but I can see Star grin a little, and Rebekah bites her lip to stop herself giggling. I know I have probably offended possible sponsors, but I don't mind as long as this miserable atmosphere disappears from the alliance.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">"Anyone want something to drink?" Gaara says. Proudly, he reveals two full water skins, and his partner Rebekah also shows her two water bottles as well. Everyone shares a sip of the cold liquid, savouring every last drop. Our alliance seems to be good at foraging, though Star and Luna have collected near to nothing. They have a few cocoa leaves, seeds and bark. I have no clue why they've collected all of this from a cocoa tree, but I hope that it will come in use if we get really hungry.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">"Are we going to make chocolate?" I grin cheerily. Star snorts at my joke but Luna doesn't even look up. She's been staring at the ground the entire time, moving her hands against each other like she's washing them vigorously. Everyody smiles at my little joke, but the atmosphere isn't any different. Rebekah and Gaara decide that everyone's got their fair share of food, water and weapons  - so it is only a matter of time before we begin searching for tributes or new places to camp or find resources. "No, seriously what are those for?" I continue cheerily, packing my share of the supplies into my backpack. I've got a half-full water skin, four throwing knives, goat meat, cocoa bark and leaves, Capitol dried beef, a pair of socks, darts and a sturdy metal slingshot. Luna suddenly coughs, and begins to speak an answer.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">"Cocoa leaves, seeds, fruit and bark can be used to treat anxiety, fever, fatigue and coughs. With extensive skills in natural medicine, it can be turned into a treatment for kidney stones, cuts and burns. If made into chocolate, polyphenols in the chocolate can help prevent heart disease if eaten in the right quantity." She finishes quickly, and goes back to staring at the floor. She has a very strange sentiment, but I thank her for sharing her cocoa with us. Everyone is a tiny bit shocked at Luna's sudden communication, but we don't have time to stick around and dwell on it. There are shouts nearby and Gaara and Rebekah agree that we should move on.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">"Come on everybody, we can't stay here," Rebekah urges softly. Almost in unison, all my allies sling their backpacks on and ready any weapons they have; ready for if there are any ambushes. We leave in a neat line, and I fall back to walk beside Luna. She stumbles with her head down, her hair covering her face completely.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">"You're quite smart with plants," I comment quietly. Luna continues walking at a steady pace. "Pretty too." I stroll off, turning my head slightly to see her reaction. She is finally looking up. <h4 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Beemo Xra D3 <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Things haven’t been the same since Amy’s death. That’s two of us gone already. Alyssa and Amy. Things couldn’t have gone worse for the Careers – and Petri is still suffering as a result of his head injury. I’ve been given the job of applying new bandages to his head every time the wound starts to bleed again. I don’t mind doing it, but I kind of hate listening to Petri moan about it. I reckon he has a concussion. He keeps having dizzy spells and feels sick while we’re out tracking tributes. Odin has decided to keep Petri at the Cornucopia, as of my advice and his judgement. I and Scarlett have decided to have alternate shifts as his companion – I made a point to Odin that Petri shouldn’t be left by himself. That Nymph girl could easily come back and kill him, just like she did to Alyssa and Amy. Odin was distraught at Amy’s death. I have no idea why, but they seemed to talk to each other a lot, and they were always laughing at each other’s cheesy jokes. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I reckon Odin was falling for Amy without even realising. Poor him. To have your crush killed must hurt. But life’s life, and you just have to get on with it.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Scarlett, I’ll take shift,” I say gladly. Scarlett nods and grabs her weapons. She hops down from the Cornucopia and meets Odin and Pharmacy by the shore. Petri leans back against the roof-garden tree where they very trident that injured him once was. He is looking very peaky, and I see that his bandages on the left side of his head are completely wet through with blood. I wrap them off, and toss them aside. Petri holds a hand to his head, but is too nauseated to care about how much blood is leaking over his hands. I decide to take emergency measures, and smother the whole of his temple with a white cream labelled:

<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">‘Injury Sealer’

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I’m hoping it means that it will seal wounds, and Petri gives a happy sigh. It gives me little flutter in my tummy to know I’ve made someone at least a little bit better. I re-wrap Petri’s head with fresh, clean bandages.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Thanks, Beemo,” Petri murmurs with a wavering voice. His hands are shaking. He has got a fever, I rip off fabric from a spare supply sheet on the resource pile. I wipe the dirt and sweat off his face that has appeared over the past day and a half. He groans as I rub his cheeks off. I feel like a complete idiot, looking after a vegetable like Petri. But an ally is an ally, so I'll do whatever it takes to make sure I keep him alive.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“No problem,” I reply sheepishly. I’d rather be out with Odin and Pharmacy, with people that could protect me – but I had to at least be nice to our injured ally. I hand him some dried beef and we eat quietly. I give most of it to Petri; he needs it most. He has a drink, and pops some red berries in his mouth like a five-year old with sweets.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“You could be a nurse, if you win,” Petri comments, lying his head down to take a little rest. Colour has returned back to his face now that he’s got some food in him. I laugh kindly at his suggestion, like we are two kids having a joke at school.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“Nah. I don’t want to be in a uniform like all the others," I reply. I could never imagine being in a sanitised, starchy blue dress, white cap and apron. For a few minutes, Petri falls silent so I pack away the first aid kit and set his weapons aside.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“There’s nobody like you, Beemo.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">

Aislyn Latona D11
My homesickness and longing for my family is constantly hurting me - I can't go on like this. Loneliness is something I've not properly experienced before; I've always been around my friends and family... Now it feels like I am the last person on earth with sanity. But I am not alone. I have Katarina with me. We've been allies since earlier this morning. I don't know how strong as a person she is, but she's helped with my ankle. One of the Careers cut it with a spear, which I retrieved and used as my own weapon. Dedrik taught me to fight with some weapons when he was going through training with his secret Resistance, but I'm not exactly the best in battle. Maybe if I survive, I can fund some of the training and weapons secretly, and persuade new rebels to join us. I've lost most of my family to the Capitol. I will not lose Dedrik, Liana, Crist or Grandmother. They've all I've got left...

"Aislyn, stop daydreaming and help me with this, will you?" Katarina hisses bitterly. She's cutting down some branches with her scythe. I swing down from my treetop look-out and camp, and hold the wood still while she cuts through it. "You're ankle's gone red," my ally comments sourly. She's angry about my injury. I didn't exactly tell her about it when we first got into an alliance together. She keeps telling me to get healing plants or something, but neither of us know the right ones. There's nothing I can do for my ankle except cleaning it with whatever water I can find. But condensed water isn't going to keep my ankle from getting infected, or spreading blood poisoning around my body.

"We've got to light a fire, which leads other tributes to thinking we're camping here. While the fire burns up, we can get away from here," Katarina explains when I ask what she is doing. She is surprisingly smart, though her fiery and unpredictable temper scares me and I don't know whether to be nice to her, or just keep a strong cover-up to make sure she stays fearful and loyal. I have no clue, but anyone is better than nobody. Without her, I'd be dying of loneliness and homesickness right now, but she's been asking to move for the past few hours and it is becoming terribly irritating. I don't see why she is so desperate to leave when we are very safe here, on the far side of the Arena. The mountains hide our camp, and no smart tribute would make a journey to kill us. No one has any way of tracking us either, as the ground is hard and dry here. What footprints we do leave are swiftly covered up with leaves and crumbling stones. We're pretty safe, though Katarina seems insistent on moving. She must have a motive.

"Why do we have to move?" I question.

"Everyone has their own problems. My cousin is mine."

"Your cousin is competing with you?!" I gasp, surprised. They had probably planned for Katarina to team with me, and now they might kill me! Her cousin could have been watching us both all along! I hold up my spear, and Katarina retaliates with holding up her scythe. "Don't kill me. I'm useful," I say defiantly. Katarina furrows her eyebrows, like she is deeply confused.

"I'm not going to kill you. I hate my cousin. I want to kill her before anybody else can. And you are useful, but not with that ankle. We need to find the Careers - they might have a medical kit. We'd kill them first, obviously," Katarina says casually. She rolls her eyes as I lower my weapon. I don't see how you could ever hate your family. My people mean more to me than anybody or anything else in the world. I would never kill them, even if it meant my own death. I couldn't do anything to save my parents or three dead siblings. I have a chance to save Dedrik, Liana and Crist. And Grandmother, of course. I won't let this opportunity pass me by. I may not be the best fighter, but I have survival skills. And hope. That is a stronger weapon than anything else in these Games.

"Let's go," I agree. Katarina seems shocked at my sudden consent of the move. "Bring it on, Careers."

Kalmah XXIV D4
Oceania lays sleeping against a tree opposite me, in broad daylight while everybody else is searching for water and food. What a stupid Victor to have as part of our alliance. Maybe if I win, I can ask the Capitol to see if they will let me test some of the Victors. I wonder what has brought her to become such a weak person, when she is the strongest among her district. And Blaine is getting on my nerves. Whatever I say, he always has something to say against it. He's such a biased bastard. Gave me a crappy throwing knife to defend myself with, when he knows my preferred weapons are a trident, a machete or a spear. My pentagram necklace token would be better than these pathetic knives. I've used better in my Father's laboratory. A scalpel would be perfect - just enough to get past the thick layer of fat, skin and muscle. Enough to severely injure, and kill eventually.

If I could just cut him in the top thigh where the main artery is, he'd die so slowly I'd be able to get away without him coming after me. And Oceania wouldn't mind a slit neck, either. The faster the death, the quicker time I am to becoming Victor. But I will keep with my alliance as long as I can, because they will provide me with food and water until I don't need them anymore. Alexandria seems to be getting annoyed with me for arguing so much with Blaine, but she doesn't comment. She knows her place, but I'm sure she'll break out quite soon. I can easily imagine her to go into a huge killing spree - or maybe that's just me being too bloodthirsty. I don't know. My bloodlust is turning me into an insane person. Rubin seems sane, maybe I stick with him, he can teach me to calm down a little.

"Kalmah, wake Oceania. We need to give her some water," Blaine orders me, as he carries a deflated water skin in his hands. Alexandria trails behind him nervously.

"Don't waste supplies on her! We've lost her already. Come on, face it, Blaine. That ankle won't do anything to help her or us. She's just an extra load," I argue crossly. Blaine ignores me. He's taken this Co-Leader position way too seriously. Rubin should have been co-leader, like everyone agreed in training. But he had to be the supreme one, didn't he? What a jerk. If I came from his District, I'd be experimenting on him as soon as he came into my sight.

"Kalmah, stop it, please. You'll only cause trouble," Alexandria says quietly in my ear. I brush her away crossly, and kick Oceania's foot to wake her up. As much as I hate Blaine ordering me about, Alexandria still has her sanity, and the smartest person (except from me) in this alliance. Stuff Oceania and Blaine. They can die beside each other, for all I care. They're both lost souls, if you ask me. My irritating ally lets Oceania drink most of the water in the skin, and soon it is empty. Blaine chucks it at me. I catch it, and give a sarcastic smile. Alexandria sighs sadly.

Suddenly, Rubin shouts from his tree-top look out. He swings from branch to branch like a monkey, and slides down the main trunk. He lands with a neat jump, and presents a shiny piece silver. of It looks like the familiar metal in the Capitol, mainly used for cutlery. But this isn't any sort of cutlery. It is a key.

"Well, what is it for?" Oceania asks Blaine, her throat recognisably sore in her voice. I roll my eyes. She's perfectly conscious, she can understand everything that's going on here. If she just got some sort of headache, then she'd be a bit dazed and distracted. I'd be in a perfect position to kill her. But other than her ankle, she is fine. I just have to wait until her condition worsens. I pray to God that nobody sends her any medication for it. Now that would really scupper my plans.

"I don't know. But it looks like it's from the Capitol," Blaine answers. He's just stating the obvious. I'll kill him first, as soon as this failure of an alliance breaks up.

"Well, obviously, you idiot," I mutter harshly under my breath. He glares at me, and Oceania and Alexandria raise their eyebrows. Rubin stands quietly with the key firmly held in his grubby fingers. Dirt crawls under his nails, and mud is smothered across his hands, arms and face. His hair is greasy and clogged with brown filth. We must all look like him, though I haven't seen a mirror for almost three days. The last time I saw myself was the evening when I was interviewed. Even then, the stylists blocked my view. I wonder what they thought of me now, my whole image completely trashed by the Capitol.

"Shut up, Kalmah," Blaine replies. Rubin explains where he found it.

"I was up in the tree, and a rat carried it in its mouth. I strangled it, and it dropped the key immediately. I picked it up, and then showed you guys," Rubin continues quietly. He's not exactly a big speech speaker. He's hardly said a word since the day we formed an alliance.

"Did it not come with a message, or anything like that?" Oceania asks hopefully. I can see optimistic faces all around. I think Oceania's wishing for a parachute with medicine in. Rubin shakes his head, and everyone's face falls.

I smile.

Brandon Ivey D7
The first thing I do when I wake up is scrabble around my pockets for the key. I heave a sigh of relief. The cold metal is still in my pocket, warmed by my body heat. The Gamemakers still have given no clues as to its purpose, which is making me more and more anxious. Surely they would have given an announcement by now? It's been at least a whole day since I received one. Do other tributes have their own key too? I rub my blurry eyes. I have slept late into the day - the sun is directly above me and the forest is glowing with the green light of the leaves. My mentor has yet to send me any weapons. If I do not get some soon, I will not survive. How will I protect myself? Well, maybe I can ask to form an alliance with any tributes I come across? That might work. Or am I being inexplicably trusting?

I grab my home-crafted wooden spear, and stuff my sharp rock into one of my jacket's pockets. I'm starving hungry. The rat I killed yesterday made me feel sick when I tried to eat it raw. I gagged and just puked when I swallowed. If I could just find a cave of some kind to cook the rat meat I have left; then I won't die of hunger. I swing down from the tree I slept on, and begin trekking downhill. I've seen a far shore from my tree, and I doubt many tributes will attempt to travel at least four miles on foot. From my reckoning, I'll have at least four or five hours left of daylight - that is plenty enough to get to the beach and set up camp.

I put a solid foot on harder ground and begin the arduous task of travelling up and down hills, past multiple tributaries and fallen trees. The upturned roots on the ground make me careful where I step. I stop to retie my shoe laces. That's when I hear a horrifying growl, like a whining but fearsome cat. I jump up, and search around for the creature. The growl echoes through the air, and sends a bloodcurdling chill down my spine. I recognize the noise. It's a Timor Mountain Cat. They were engineered to track escaped district citizens in the forests and mountains and then attack when they came into sight of a human. I am as good as dead, especially with this rubbish wooden spear. It's useless to put up a fight.

Suddenly, something leaps out from the coppice of clumped trees. A red-silver creature flashes over my head, a glint of white catching the sun on its head. The macabre mammal lands with a soft thud back on the ground. I am all of a sudden face-to-face with a blood-stained Timor Cat. It's whole muzzle is smothered red with fresh animal blood, its muscular body tensing and dense. It's metal-like claws are poised, ready for attack at any moment. It makes a leap at me, and I force a sharp rock into its eye. It whines and growls at me as the eyeball rolls next to my foot. A dark, blood-clotted hole is left in its head. But this creature is not giving up on me yet.

With a swipe of its beastly paw, it catches me on the cheek. Deep wounds appear on the right side of my face. The animal seems almost revengeful, and happy about my pain. It makes another lunge at me, but this time, it misses my head. It takes me a while to realize what the animal has done to me.

It has it something much worse. My body becomes oddly light in an instant. My organs spill out in front of me, and the Timor Cat devours them hungrily as the light fades from my vision.

BOOM!

Nymph Meré D1
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Twilight is closing in, and the Voice is warning me to get out of the water. I’ve had a small swim to clean myself off. Mother has not spoken to me since I killed that girl at the glass house. I think she is angry with me, because I murdered someone. I scream her name, but the Voice tells me stop as I will get caught. I dunk myself under the surface. Salty water fills my mouth. The Voice orders me to close my jaws. I do as I am told, and resurface. I spew out the sordid water in huge bursts around me. This voice is getting on my nerves. It is constantly telling me what to do, and I cannot stop myself from obeying it. I am a girl possessed. <span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I climb back up the banks, my whole body soaking wet and my hair straggly. Each strand is sprinkled with bright white bubbles and small dots of dried salt. My backpack and water bottle are tossed across the sand. I have yet to fill the precious bottle with clean water. Mother and I have only come across salt water, and the Voices refuse to let me spend time looking for something to filter it with. The Voice senses something will dramatic happening soon, and I should be preparing myself. Mother is sitting on the beach, waiting for me to haul myself next to her. With the weight of the water and my clothes, gravity is pulling on my joints, more than usual. It’s become a huge effort to take a few steps.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">But the Voice does not care.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Get moving! There is something special nearby! Move your sorry arse!" I groan, and Mother gives me a warning look. I don't know why, but whenever the Voice speaks to me Mother's body becomes mangled and distorted into unrecognisable shapes. It makes me shiver and shudder. It makes my blood boil. "For God's sake, Nymph! Move! You haven't got time to sit around!" The Voice repeats itself over and over, getting louder each time. I ram my fingers in my ears to shut it out. But the Voice just keeps increasing in volume. I scream and scream until my voice is hoarse and my throat is burning with pain. Finally, the Voice falls silent. Mother warns me not to be too loud, as it could bring people who want to steal our teapots and special tea-making supplies. Against my own wishes, the Voice forces me to head into the deep forest. Dark skies are forming overhead, and the fading light makes it near impossible to see. "The Darkness is your friend. Use it, and you can boil your water to purify it." For once, the Voice has a reasonable suggestion that I am willing to listen to.

<span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Despite my painfully heavy body and the constant pleas of Mother who is begging to stop, I continue on through the forest. I listen to every snap of the twigs, and my heart races. This unfamiliar darkness is like no other. There is no moon to shine on the leaves - just blackness. Nothing else. The Voice is panicking too, and is my only source of constant direction. I wonder what the other tributes are doing in this strange, sudden midnight black. ''"There is someone over there. But they are sleeping. Kill them and move on. One less problem." ''The Voice commands furiously. It orders me each way, left-right, forward-back - until my boot knocks against a solid being. The Voice is silent. I know what I have reached.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I sit down beside the sleeping body, being careful to make silent movements. In the darkness, I cannot tell whether it is a boy or a girl, or what they even look like, but they smell horrid and night flies have swarmed around it. I recognise this kind of smell. It is the same stench that Mother had... when she... when she passed. I hold my fingers to my nose, and begin to start walking again.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"''Stop! The corpse has an important item!" ''Ah, so the Voice isn't entirely silent then. I return to the cadave, and gingerly fumble through the pockets of the deceased person. At last, I find a sharp-ish, cold item. The moon has appeared at last. I lif the unrecognisable item to the sky. It is a key.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: "Eurostile","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I'm so proud of you, Nymph. Let's have a cuppa in the morning?" Mother suddenly walks up behind me, also taking a look at the silvery item. I nod in silent agreement, and begin my trek away from the disgusting dead body that I have just stolen from. There is something about this key that makes it special, but what I cannot tell. Nor can Mother or the Voice. They seem to be my only comforts in these Games.

<h2 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Gamemaker Announcement

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">'''Tributes, we come to you with an important message. '''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">'''Recently, we have placed two keys among you. These keys can be used to find gateways out of the Arena, and to home. Those who escape are going to be two of the four Victors. '''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">'''But these Gateways are impossible to find without a map. When dawn arises, two maps will appear at the Cornucopia. The key-holders must take their keys to the Cornucopia, where they will place it alongside one of the maps. But you cannot do this without help, for the journey will be treacherous. We Gamemakers will grant you the present of Protection - a precious gift that will stop any other tributes from attacking you. This means that you cannot die at the hands of another tribute. You are the Protected. '''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">'''For the lucky Protected, you must go to the Cornucopia to place your keys on a silver table. Once placed, you may not touch the keys or the maps as they surrounded by powerful force-fields. '''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">'''For the other tributes, you have the option of attending this special Feast. The Protected MUST attend or face immediate death. For those of you who are attending, you are required to stand on the pedestals you originally stood on. At midday, a countdown will begin from one minute. When the gong sounds, you must fight to get one map and one key for the chance of early freedom. For the unsuccessful survivors, you must continue in the Games until the last two tributes remain. '''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">'''Only two people may exit these Games through the Gateway. And only two people are the Protected. After this announcement, we will show them in the sky. '''

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">The Protected: 

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Rubin Jett, D11

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Nymph Meré, D1

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Good luck tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favour.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"> <h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">Day 3 - The Feast

Pharmacy Rivera D9
The announcement surprised us during the night yesterday. Why would the Capitol let two Victors come out - and early? President Rome must have something in mind. Not just for them, but for us all.

"We've got till dawn, but we better get moving. Anyone could arrive during the night," Scarlett says when everyone wakes up the next morning. She's very good at making plans. She's always thinking ahead. She is a valuable ally to have, though I can't ever imagine her being a Victor. Preisdent Rome would never trust her, especially seeing as she worked for an 'organisation' back in District 12. It's funny what people will admit to when they are scared.

Beemo finishes wrapping Petri's new bandages while Odin gets everyone to organise supplies. He grabs two medicine kits with about three rolls of linen for Petri's bleeding wound, along with a water bottle for each of us. For weapons, I make sure I get a couple of throwing knives, though Beemo also equips me with a slingshot and fifty darts. Everyone gets their fair share, and a backpack to carry it all in. Petri is made to take care of himself on the journey, as Beemo won't be able to protect him forever. Odin is making a decision whether to go north - to the mountains, or go east or west and stay in the forest. There's no chance of us going south - it's just water, and the thin line of shore in the distance would not be safe. The Gamemakers could easily pull some kind of trick to kill us off - like a tidal wave or something.

"Go north. Most tributes don't go too far up that way because of the mountains, but if we stay in the middle of the forest, we'll have enough space between us and the Cornucopia to be safe but still have time to get to the Feast by midday. It won't be a problem if we stay on guard, though I'd still be wary. On our last search we saw fresh tracks quite far out. Someone is moving about nearby. There are two of them together, from my reckoning." Scarlett debriefs us on the plan. Odin nods his head in approval of the idea, and we get moving as soon as we can. I sling my backpack on and fall back in front of Odin and behind Petri. I assist him past certain tricky trees that overhang in midair. The gnarled branches stretch across our paths, and I am forced to cut them with my knives. I struggle through about a metre of thick branches, tree sap coating my fingers and knives. Graduall it is getting harder and harder to force my way through the undergrowth.

"Stop a minute, Pharmacy. Let's all take a rest. We're far enough in the forest already," Beemo says, taking a look at our surroundings. It is hard to tell what time of day it is - the deep canopy means only a greenish light emerges from the sun - and I can't even see where that is because all of the trees, leaves and branches block the view. Tracking the time will be hard unless the Gamemakers help us with a timer. Odin sets down his bag but his spear is gripped tightly in his fist, his knuckles moon-white with the constant, angry pressure. We camp out a little, sharing some food we have and drinking from our water bottles. We are not prepared to face anything in the forest. We have only been here a couple of times.

Petri's bandages are being replaced as we speak, and there hasn't ever been this much blood before. All this travelling has tired him out, and I think his heart is working harder than it should be. Beemo's hands are completely covered over with fresh, red fluid.

We all know that Petri's condition is worsening. You can see it. He's got all the symptoms of a concussion and without medical help it will not get any better. Most of all, Odin knows it. We might as well kill him to save time. We can't waste precious medical supplies on him. No matter how hard Beemo has tried, nothing has made Petri get any better. Even the Capitol medicine has made no difference to his condition. His cannon will be going off before the end of the day.

"Petri, I think you need to sit down," Beemo orders. Petri plonks himself on the hard ground. He's shaking feverishly all over and the blood is practically streaming from his wound like a river. Beemo adjusts his position so his head is upright. He cannot even hold the water bottle to his lips to drink. Scarlett helps nurse Petri by applying wound sealing cream, dabbing at his head and applying another roll of new bandages. If he loses anymore blood, he'll pass out. Then it'll be up to his sponsors to save him.

Katarina Seacrest D5
Aislyn is getting increasingly on my nerves. The Feast will only tire her out and her ankle means she probably won't survive it. I question whether to go alone, and split the alliance. I never wanted to team with her anyway. She took my scythe! I didn't have any choice. It's all her fault. But I am definitely going to this Feast, whether or not Aislyn comes with me.

Unfortunately, Aislyn is annoyingly likeable and is willing to help me with anything. We both pack all of our stuff which is pathetically little and begin our journey. We are silent all the way to the Feast. Aislyn is shaking. She is inexplicably nervous. I smile a little. I pray to God that she dies in the Feast, so I can have better chances of getting at Oceania.

"What are you smiling at?" Aislyn snaps irritably. Her stress is getting into her head. She is in no way capable of fighting loads of other tributes. She cares too much about her stupid family. Always worried, always wondering if they are still worried about her. I don't care about my family to be honest. The only person I am really bothered is my ghastly cousin. If I get the chance, I will kill her. No question. I'd rather die knowing I had her blood on my hands than knowing she had got away without justice. She beat me once, she will not beat me again.

"Nothing. The forest is just so quiet. I'd have thought the Gamemakers might send us together to speed things up."

"Maybe. But I doubt they'd want to risk killing anyone before the Feast."

Suddenly, the anthem begins to play. Both of us are surprised. The anthem finishes hurriedly and then an image of the head Gamemaker, Ajax Maximus, appears up in the sky. An unfamiliar and strangle clean-shaven face is new to me. His sharp features are reminiscent of a bed of nails. I am warmed by the thought of him sinking through nails, his body covered in blood as he dies slowly, tiny pinpricks of pain appearing all through his body and sinking painfully through his heart...

His face and the background are dark to show up in the bright late morning light of the Arena's atmosphere. He looks like the devil, shadowed in darkness. His expression is eerie, like he is happy to see us but brings us terrible news. I can only hope it does not involve my chances of killing Oceania.

"Tributes - we have decided to revoke the freedom of coming to the Feast. I - and my fellow Gamemakers - have decided it would be best if your attendance was mandatory, along with the Protected, who still bestow the marvellous gift we have entrusted them. See you at midday, or face immediate death. Good luck, tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favour."

This news makes no difference to mine and Aislyn's plans. It only means I know for certain Oceania will be there. More chances to kill her, I think.

Aislyn and I hurry downhill as we can hear lapping waves. We are close to the Cornucopia. We brush past sharp trees and bushes, crawling under branches and leaping over logs. Until at last we reach the shore. The Cornucopia is standing tall on the island with an eerie emptiness. I grin. My secondary target, the Careers, are nowhere to be seen. Aislyn and I nod at each other, split paths and head over to our respective pedestals. I can't wait till the action begins.

Crimson Typhoon D13
The announcement causes many of us to be shocked and mostly furious. Our alliance had planned to stay out of the action, and wait until the end when the last two Victors were to be crowned. Maybe one of them might be us, but Rebekah is hiding something and keeping a secret from us might be the cause of our alliance breaking apart. Trent told me so. He's a good guy. It's going to be a shame if he dies. I'm going to miss a lot of my allies, actually. Luna was nice in training and i chatted to her quite a lot, but she's gone a bit psycho so it seems like Luna Sunkin died on Day 1. Poor Star won't stand a chance in the Feast now that she has gone. Without her, he would have died on the beach when we first met up. He's got nobody to protect him but us, and I think that most of my allies will die. Just like Connor. But he won't die. He is safe, because I volunteered. At least, if I die today, I know he will be out of trouble.

After today, there will be only tributes left. No allies. it saddens me to know that when the starting gong sounds, all of the allies that have become my friends will become my enemy. Nobody has made any plans to stay together, but I sincerely hope my friends will at least try and save me if I get in trouble.

"Come on, guys. The sun's rising so I think it's almost midday," Gaara says, looking up to the sky. Rebekah agrees that we should get moving, but slowly in case there are too many tributes at their pedestals already. "Do you think the Careers will be there?" Gaara asks as we pack up our weapons. We set off hurriedly, leaving nothing behind for any tributes that survive this second Bloodbath-Feast.

"No. They will have packed up their stuff already if they have any sense," Star says quietly. He nudges his sister forward, who has been stumbling and scuffing her feet along the wet ground. Luna shrugs him off snappily. She is like somebody possessed. The old, kind Luna was someone everybody could talk to. Now she's like a zombie. She hardly speaks, and walks with a strange and depressed hunch. Nobody except Star has mentioned a single word to her. I think Trent has had a brief chat with her, but none of us have time to think about it. We've made it to the Cornucopia.

Two tributes are already there - Aislyn Latona and Katarina Seacrest. Both forces to be reckoned with. But Aislyn isn't what I thought she'd be. She was one of the strongest in training, from my opinion anyway. Now she's got a half-limp and is sitting with her feet dangling in the water waiting placidly on her pedestal for the cannon to sound. There are other tributes emerging from the trees. A small, tense alliance is on the far shore. I don't recognise them. A loner is swimming up to her pedestal, too, but she'll stay in the water until everyone else gets here. People could easily attack each other, right here, right now.

Everyone knows we might never see each other again. I big goodbye to Trent, Star and Gaara first. I hug Rebekah quickly and warn her to stay safe. She wipes back tears. At her young age, it is understandable why she is upset. She has the least odds of surviving, of seeing the sun go down tonight. Luna is familiarly staring at her feet, so I wish her good luck, though I won't see her again - except for seeing her face projected in the sky. We split paths. My heart aches to know I'll either die today, or survive and be totally alone until a Victor is crowned.

Alexandria Maydon D10
Kalmah has gone. He disappeared not long after the Announcement. He went to go and fetch some 'firewood' and never came back, taking his weapons and supplies with him. Thankfully he did not take any of our supplies. But it's for the better. Oceania is relieved that he is gone, but no more so than Blaine, who seems overjoyed at our ally's departure from the group. This means it will be harder to protect our leaders as Rubin and I agreed, though I doubt Kalmah would have been of much help. Kalmah will no doubted go for either Blaine or Oceania now. I never trusted him anyway, but his disappearance has made it much easier to get to the Cornucopia in time. Without his anger issues and constant arguments with Blaine, it's been all plain sailing and we are just waiting for midday, when we will venture out to our pedestals.

I've spent the whole morning laying on the beach alongside my allies, almost sunbathing. I mostly stay in the shade. I prefer the dark - it's much cooler and less of a hassle to deal with compared with intense heat. The weapons are beside us, just in case any tributes decide to make a pre-attack to the Feast. I have been mostly weak all my life - from the constant illness and painful suffering I experienced. But today, I can show people how strong I have become. Maybe if the Gamemakers see how strong I am, they can see how strong the Districts are. Maybe they might stop the Games... I don't know. They are so heartless they wouldn't care about the common deaths of children, would they? I am determined not to please them with the deaths of innocent people. I will survive, but I will not kill. It will ruin the plans I made from the start. Do not kill, do not please the Capitol.

The sun is rising, and I warn my allies to take their places in the circle around the Cornucopia soon. Most tributes are arriving now. The Careers are just across the shore from us, but with a weakened and half-dead Petri I doubt they will come anywhere near us. Aislyn and Oceania are sitting placidly on their platforms. Young Aislyn is kicking her legs in the water, sending white droplets of spray water all around her. Oceania is looking just as childish, with her hands causing chaos on the smooth surface of the huge lagoon. I roll my eyes.

Another alliance has turned up on the opposite shore, but they are too far away for me to recognize them, though among the group I spot Trent Greer. It wasn't so long ago that were talking about an alliance, until Trent felt sorry for the younger tributes like Rebekah and Star, so he teamed with them instead. It will be a shame to lose him, but I am preoccupied with protecting our leaders. Thanks to some wealthy sponsors, Oceania has been sent vital medication and her ankle is almost back to normal. Except for some redness and stretch marks, she is mostly fine and able to walk without my help. She will make it through this. Something in my gut tells me she will.

"See you later guys. My pedestal's all the way over there," Blaine points out. It's on the far side, near Trent's alliance. "I better go now." We all nod at him, and he dives under the water. I am sure I will see him again, though where I do not know. I hope I do not see his face in the sky tonight.

"Yeah. I better go too. See you there," Oceania concludes. I hug her and tell her to meet with me if she can, so I can protect her. She shakes me off lightly. "I'll be fine, Alexandria. Watch out for those Careers," my leader whispers. The whole lot of the Careers are glaring straight at us, like we are something to be made a meal of. As soon as Oceania is out of sight and climbing up to her place, I talk to Rubin before we finally split paths as well.

"You take Blaine, I'll take Oceania. See you there. Oceania must get through this, and so must Blaine," I say to him. Under my breath, out of the cameras hearing, I say, "They are the only hopes of a rebellion."

"And what makes you think that?"

"They care too much. If they see the devastation at this Feast... and if we show them protection... they will avenge us. Oceania is too nice for her own good. She won't let the Capitol or President Rome get away with this. Nor will Blaine."

"I like your thinking, but you are too optimistic for your own good." And with that, Rubin dives into the water until his figure is just a spot in the distance.

Shyvana Feuer D13
With confidence in my stride, I walk up to the shore of the lagoon. From what I can see, most of the tributes are here already. There are exactly six empty pedestals. A shiver runs down my spine. Each pedestal, empty or occupied, is labeled with the tribute's name, among them is Yoshi's. A sudden pang of guilt rushes through me. I wonder if the Gamemakers or the Capitol feel at all guilty for these murderers of innocent people. But this has been going on long enough for them not to care, and I know by the end of today most of these tributes will be dead, scattered across the ground and floating on the surface of the water like pieces of driftwood.

It is almost midday. The sun is bright, and high above us. The beginning of the end is near. I take a quick dive and swim up to my place. My name is flashing in a ring around it in blazing white squares, casting strange, jagged reflections across the seawater. The tributes either side of me eye me up carefully, making important decisions. A Career tribute, I think named Petri, is on my left side. His head is securely bandaged up but it is soaked with blood. His face is pale and he is shaking feverishly. He won't even need a tribute to kill him, though he'll be lucky to get a quick death. His passing will be a result of his own weakness.

On the right of me, there is the infamous Nymph Meré. She's made two kills already, the most made by a tribute in these Games so far. I suddenly realize something. I know why the Gamemakers are doing this. The Bloodbath didn't bring enough deaths. They want more blood. And that's what I'll give them. A final tribute arrives to place the key on the table at the centre of the Cornucopia, and swims to his pedestal, that is flashing with the name 'Rubin Jett' in huge red pixels. He is one of the Protected. But not for long, he won't be.

"Tributes, welcome to this very special Feast. As of exactly now, the Protected will no longer be defended from the other tributes. Good luck, all of you, and may the odds be ever in your favour."

The timer begins.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Bring it on.

Blaine Fitz D11
The gong goes off so suddenly I barely have time to keep up. People dive into the water all around me and so I follow swiftly after them. I plunge into the freezing cold lagoon. I can barely see anything in this salty liquid. Over the days, the water has darkened and is a brownish-green colour now. The putrid water covers my whole face and fills my ears. My body becomes insanely heavy. I take a few strokes but find that it is a great struggle. Something his holding me back. My coat is caught on something. I raise my head above water, and see the solid body of my ex-ally. It's Kalmah, come to get me. And he has a rather sturdy and silver - probably donated - trident. He must have loyal sponsors. I rip my jacket off and swim as fast as I can away from him, but my ally is a much stronger swimmer.

The shadow of my ally beneath the surface looks like a hungry shark bulleting towards me. I splash about like a distressed seal, in the hope that it might throw him off. But Kalmah just keeps swimming, until his whole body collides with mine. He grabs hold of my arm and tugs me beneath the water. Rubin is in the distance. I shout at him to help, but with all the commotion I am making only revolting sweater fills my mouth. I croak and spew out all the liquid I have swallowed. Kalmah is gaining strength by the second. He yanks me under the surface and I am too weak to fight back. The air is getting further and further away.

I writhe in Kalmah's firm grip, and turn to face him. A look of utter pleasure appears on his face. I am losing air, and quickly. My lungs are contracting, squeezing the life out of me. I need oxygen. Now. I attempt to kick my enemy in the face, but he dodges it and kicks me back in retaliation. Precious bubbles escape from my mouth and more liquid clogs my throat. I cough it back up, but only to inhale more. Kalmah is winning. I thrash about, and my opponent can no longer keep control of me. He releases his hard clench, and I barely escape.

I shoot up to the surface and I gasp for fresh air. But so does my ex-ally. He smiles at me from about a metre away. He makes a few swipes at my face with his fist and I block the first few punches because he can't keep himself afloat and attack. But then one huge, sudden blow comes at me. He kicks me in the stomach. I am winded for a few seconds and all this water means I cannot breathe at all. While I am weakened, Kalmah whispers something to me. I can feel his legs moving about in the water trying to stay buoyant.

"I always hated you." A wave of panic floods through me. I stand practically no chance. I must swim away, get to shore before Kalmah drowns me. But I can make no movements. My lungs have got too much water in them and I am being dragged downwards by gravity. "Goodbye. You'll drown before you wake up." Kalmah cuffs me round the temple. This is the end. I won't even hear my own cannon. Everything suddenly goes black.

Petri Lindroos D2
“PETRI! Get off your podium!” Beemo’s voice yells at me from across about fifty metres. Between her and me are two tributes. One of them is floating unconsciously on the surface of the water, the other is swimming away rather hastily. Beemo disappears into the water too, white spray shooting up where she dived.

In less than thirty seconds, Beemo is floating in the water beneath me. It seems I still have one ally, at least. A girl to my right has already left her pedestal and is swiftly making her way to the Cornucopia. Meanwhile, I’m still stood here, with no clue as to what I’m doing. “PETRI! Please, get down from there!” Beemo has dived under too, and is dodging a floating body. Their cannon hasn’t sounded yet. They must be unconscious.

My ally suddenly grasps my hand and pulls me into the water. My whole body becomes heavy, and my head is rattling. My bones are shaking and my heart is racing so much it feels like it’ll die of exhaustion. The fabric wrapped around my head is becoming increasingly lighter, and looser. Beemo doesn’t seem to notice.

“Come on, follow me Petri. We’ve got to get to Odin, Pharmacy and Scarlett. They need us,” Beemo begs. “Please, just swim a little.” I breaststroke across about ten metres, after which I stop. Everything is going grey. The light is fading and even Beemo, who is screaming in my face, is fading. The bandages fall onto the surface. They float away and I smile weakly at Beemo. She is shaking me by the shoulders, pleading me to move. I can feel liquid stream down the side of my face.

“It’s okay, Beemo. I’ll see you later.” Beemo bites her lip, and releases her grasp on me. I kind of want her to stay with me until the end, so I don’t die alone. But I know she must go, or risk facing the end herself. The last image I see is my remaining ally desert me. And the last thing I hear is my cannon.

Star Sunkin D6
Luna pulls me up on the shore. We are panting and barely breathing. My heart is racing, but we’ve no time to rest. Other tributes are arriving, and running up to the Cornucopia table. It is placed right at the centre. The small island the Cornucopia rests on has got smaller since the first Bloodbath.

“Luna, come on.” I get to my feet and my sister follows quickly. Trent is next to us, running up to the table too. He has a look of determination on his face. Luna suddenly stops. She tilts her head in a crazed way. My eyes widen. She is going into go into one of her psycho moments, like she has since she killed Nick Machlachlan. Trent can see it too. “Luna, no!” I yell at her, checking for signs of danger. People run past us carelessly. They have no time for my mental sister.

Luna draws out her knife. It has a special jagged edge, for cutting through hard substances. Trent starts running. My sibling follows after him and I have to run, as someone is coming at me too. My pursuer gives up when I dive back underwater. They run off, and I can see Trent defending himself against Luna, who is slashing at him with her knives. He runs to the opposite shore, and I swim over to keep up with them, but safely keeping my distance. Trent yells at her to stop but she just keeps going. She won’t stop trying to attack him. He sprints to the water, and my sister quickens her pace also. He dives under and appears about fifty metres from the shore. Splashes of water are sent everywhere, and I dive under the surface, swimming speedily towards them. I can’t stop Luna, but I can at least try and prevent Trent’s death.

My male ally jumps up on a random pedestal. Luna scrambles for a foothold, and Trent tries to push her down but she sends a fist into his foot. He jumps up yelling with pain. She jumps up with ease. Luna’s face darkens. She propels the weapon at him and buries the knife in his chest. Trent, with his last movements, punches her in the face, and wraps his arms around Luna tightly. Blood seeps into her clothes and into the water as they fall down to the bottom. “TRENT!” I yell. His cannon sounds. But he’s not done yet. A second cannon goes off about a minute afterwards. I search around for anyone that might have died. Then I realise something. Luna must have blacked out when Trent punched her. She could be...could have drowned.

I dunk my head underwater and get to my drowning sibling as fast as I can. Trent's body is nowhere to be seen. I dive to the bottom, and see them both resting almost peacefully on the seabed. I unfold Trent's arms that have clasped my sister down. Her mouth is open. I bring her up to the surface and attempt to squeeze the water out of her. But she makes no movements. I check her pulse. But there is nothing to check.

My sister is dead, drowned by a dead man.

Rubin Jett D11
Death. Death everywhere. And there is only water. A few floating bodies here and there. I must get off my pedestal. I'm out in the open. I need to get moving. But the sight of corpses bobbing along makes me freeze. My whole body is paralysed.

Blaine, the person I was supposed to protect, is gone. I've got to kill people here? I can't do that. Not with all this water. I've never swam in my life. I barely made it out of the Bloodbath - Alexandria was the reason for my survival on the first day. She helped me to shore, practically keeping both of us afloat. If I just find her, maybe she can help me and we can stay allies once more.

But I can't find her anywhere. The water is overwhelming, my vision is blurry at the sight of this terrible scene. Death and water. Practically my worst nightmare. I can't think straight. I need to get my head in the game.

'Come on Rubin! You can do this! Avenge your brother.' Optimistic thoughts come from nowhere.

The prize doesn't seem so far away now. Not far at all.

'Just find Alexandria and you'll be fine.'

I shake off my nervous thoughts and catch a glimpse of Oceania making her way to shore. Alexandria must be somewhere near. I bend my knees, ready to jump. I hold my arms above my head as I've seen people do before they dive. I can do this. I will do this.

Suddenly, my breathing is strained. My stomach feels empty but something seems to be pulling on it. I look down. The head of a spear is just poking through my T-shirt. So, this is how I'm going to die. I turn my head. Pharmacy Rivera immediately comes into view. I narrow my eyes at her and she smiles. I fall back into the water, searing pain running through me and an unbearable stinging feeling stabs at my back. The spear has almost gone through me completely, leaving a huge hole in my stomach.

Pharmacy swims up, and brutally wrenches the weapon out of my centre. As she swims away, her shoe butts me in the face. Blood stains the water and turns a red colour, the sunlight casting a strange, wine-coloured filter into the water. So, this is the end.

'''BOOM! '''

Pharmacy Rivera D9
Rubin was such an easy kill. I can't believe he stood right out in the open like that, frozen. But I have to get rid of targets to win. Nobody will stand in my way. I take a breather for a second, scanning the area while I keep myself above the water. I haven't taken time to listen to the amount of cannons fired, but there must be at least three or four dead already.

I've never been a very good swimmer but I don't think Rubin could swim at all. When he fell - he didn't even try to keep himself afloat. He just let himself be enveloped by the water, and let himself become a victim to my spear. I paddle over to a girl who seems like an easy target, but with my head underneath the surface so she can't spot me straight away. I think her name is Alexandria Maydon, the Goth that was a bit of a sore thumb in the training centre.

She is surprised and frightened to see me when I come straight up behind her. But she is not what I thought she'd be like. She immediately sinks under the surface with a great splash in a frenzied escape. A minute later, her head pops up near a pedestal, a trail of white water behind her where her rough swimming caused chaos in the wave motions. I chase after her but I'm a terrible swimmer so by the time I get there she has hidden away. She could easily kill me now if she wanted. Why isn't she making an attack already? Her own stupidity makes me almost laugh. But now is not the time for jokes.

I reach the pedestal that my target has cowered behind. She is wide-eyed with a fear that reminds me of a rabbit at the end of a gun. I take my chances and make a leap at her. If I can hold my breath long enough, maybe I can drown her. But somehow, she gets out of the way and climbs up the pedestal with great difficulty and strain. I eye her up cautiously. How can I possibly attack her from down here? It doesn't look like she has any weapons. If I climb up, then she will be defenceless. Now is my chance. I unhook my knife from my belt, and secure my spear into the long-length sheath that hangs over my back, and begin climbing up. My opponent glares at me in horror as I come face-to-face with her on the pedestal.

"Please, don't hurt me. I won't hurt you. Please, I beg you!" I won't let her get away from me. I need to eliminate my targets. Then I can win. I leap up, and hold my knife to her neck. "Please. We can be allies? Please. I only want to survive. Just please, don't kill me. I won't attack you, I promise."

"No promises can be made in the Hunger Games." I slit her throat and blood spurts in my face, landing on my lips and in my mouth. I spit it out, gagging. The metallic taste holds itself in my mouth. I scratch my fingers along the rough surface of my tongue to get rid of some of the taste, but it is no use. Fearing for my own safety, I watch as my dead enemy's body collapses on the surface of the lagoon, and I jump in the opposite direction. BOOM! That must be Alexandria's cannon.

I wash my mouth out with the repulsive water. Salt water seems like a welcome relief from someone else's blood. I find that the water level has risen greatly. It's at least eight or nine metres deep, when before it was only about five or six. I move as fast as I can towards the shore, but something brushes past my ankle.

I dunk my head underwater to see if any tributes are attacking me from the seabed. Thankfully, there seems to be no danger. I continue on my path. For a few minutes, I am left in peace, dismissing the incident as just seaweed or some driftwood sailing by.

Suddenly, something bites my leg. I scream, but water fills my mouth and I begin to sink underneath the surface. I focus on keeping my head above water, but whatever bit me is coming back for more and the pain of the wound in my leg is overpowering. 'It' takes a huge chunk out of my right thigh - my bones only hanging on by the muscles around it. I groan in unbearable pain. Other tributes see my utter distress, but leave me alone. Whatever is trying to eat me must be a mutt of some kind. Curse those sick-minded Gamemakers.

I thrash about my arms and last working leg, making jabs in the water with my knife. But it is no use. The sea-mutt tears off my right arm and blood spills everywhere, the blood-curdling snap of bone ringing in my ears. The gristly muscle hangs lifelessly on the water, bobbing like a line from a fishing hook. The mutt pulls away at the flesh and muscle until the only thing left of my right arm is the shoulder bone, which is barely keeping itself together. Fracture lines run all across it like the cracks you would find in the wall of an old house.

I see flashes of silver, and sharp, blade-like teeth in the water beside me. And a fin. And a tail. It must be a shark mutt, or some kind of homicidal piranha thing. I cry out for help but nobody comes. I feel as lonely as the last person on earth. With my last arm and leg, I stab the mutt in the tail but this only angers it more and makes no difference. It rips off my leg in a vicious rage until I am just a floating dummy, half-submerged in my own pool of blood.

The shark mutt nibbles at me, almost playfully, as I now have no defence against it. Along with my limbs, it swallowed my knife, but thankfully not my spear. Each time it takes a bite out of me the darkness gets closer, the ominous crunch of bone on teeth the last things I'll ever hear. I can take no more. It is a wonder I haven't bled to death yet. I know I have no hope. But I don't want to die at the hands of a sick, murderous Capitol creation. I will die with dignity. With my last, weakened and severely injured arm, I remove the spear from its scabbard. I whisper goodbye to my family, and the mutt seems to back away slightly as I make peace with myself. The Gamemakers must be watching this. With one last dignified move, I drive the spear into my heart.