User blog:PoisonedPoetry/The 98th hunger games

Hello guys/ girls, and welcome to my first hunger games on either of the two wiki's. I have been practising my writing skills, and decided that today's the day to begin a hunger games for anybody to join.

Introduction (Warning: Quite long)
It has been several decades since the second rebellion took place. Thousands, if not, millions of innocent people lost their lives to end the barbaric event known as the hunger games. In the end though, it all paid off, all thanks to Katniss Everdeen, the mockingjay. However, 28 years ago, Katniss, Peeta, Willow and Rye Mellark all lost their lives after a fire broke out at their house. They stood no chance against the flames.

A few days later, many people turned up to the funeral, to pay their respects to the girl on fire. Amongst them were other victorsof the hunger games, and even several people that were involved with this. This included Annie Cresta, Haymitch Abernathy, Efie Trinket, Beetee, Johanna, even Enobaria turned up.

A few years later, President Paylor succumbed to a lengthy battle with lung cancer, leading to a man known as Aaron Pluto to take charge and care of all the districts. However, unlike Paylor, he supported the hunger games, and took ideas from them. He was plotting to restart the hunger games, and take away the free will of his people.

He sent formal letters to districts 1, 2 and 4, asking politely for them to turn some buildings into training centres, so that the careers could exist and breathe once more. After all, he felt like there needed to be some particularly strong tributes.

He let them train for a few years, before he hired out several Capitolians to become game makers, and trainers. Every single detail was carefully planned out, and carried out, until eventually, they were ready to begin.

Pluto glanced down and smiled at his son, Taylor, as he gave his father a face that showed pride for him. Slowly, he waddled onto the podium, and waved to the adoring crowd below him. The other districts watched him on TV, curious of his announcement.

"Attention, all districts of Panem!" He called, with great authority in his voice. If nobody was watching him before, they surely were now. "I must call for your attention, when I say that this news is of great importance! Now, I must admit that there have been some... slight mistakes in the past, with certain situations, so I feel the need to.. discipline you all! I hold the power in my hands, and Ihave signed a treaty, which means that the hunger games shall commence again!" Mixed reactions spread across all the crowd. For the career districts and Capitol, it was mainly positive. The majority of the others, though, were unsurprisingly negative, and several people shouted, in utter outrage.

"Not only shall District 1-12 compete in these, but so will the lesser known districts, 0, 13 and 14!" The trio of districts widened their eyes in terror, completely caught off guard. "However, to make things fair, the Capitol will also compete, not only to make things fair, but to prove to everyone what great people we have!" The Capitolians cheered with glee, but President Pluto hushed them. "Finally, each year will have a twist! The reapingsbegin in 6 months time! Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour!"

Time shift

Now, it is the 98th hunger games, 22 years after the broadcast. President Pluto once again strolled to the stage, looking down below to the crowd. They continuosly hailed him, and started to pump their fists.

"Welcome again, to the 98th hunger games, where once again, 32 tributes will compete against one another for glory, and for the riches that await them! I must confess, I am particularly looking forwards to this year's twist!" He nodded to his grandson, Apollo, who timidly walked on stange, holding a plastic bowl.

"And the twist this year..." Pluto dipped his hand into the bowl, fiddling around for a slip, until his fingers closed around one. He pulled it out, and unravelled it, so that the inner contents could be seen. "...Is that as a reminder that we are still fair, even if we made terrible promises, there will be no twists!" Everybody murmured in confusion, even the President himself. "I'm guessing these games will be average then... it looks like we'll have to put up with it..." He shrugged, before leaving, not even giving out the famous motto.

Rules

 * You can submit four tributes maximum.


 * Don't enter troll tributes, please. They just waste time.


 * No spamming on my blog, please! Doing so will either result in your tribute being killed off, severely injured, or losing sponsor money.


 * If you wish to submit a tribute, either use a link, or submit them in the comments.


 * If you wish to reserve a spot, it will last 48 hours.


 * You mustn't go rampage if your tribute dies. You are allowed to mourn them, to say R.I.P, and to virtually cry, but no anger.


 * Don't use somebody else's advice to keep your tribute alive (E.g: Kathleen is planning on killing you, Kaitlyn. Kill her back)


 * Be respectful of others


 * If you have read this, say 'Wolfblood' in your comment, if you are submitting a tribute.
 * Follow the template==Tribute template (Italics = optional==
 * Name
 * Age
 * Gender
 * District
 * Height
 * Appearance (I don't mind whether it's written, a Rl, or a Lunaii)
 * Personality
 * Backstory
 * Weapon/s (Max of three)
 * Strengths (Max of three)
 * Weaknesses (Min of two)
 * Fears
 * Bloodbath strategy
 * Training strategy
 * Alliance
 * Token

Alliances
Key:

Bold = Leader of the alliance

Italics = Request pending

Careers: Jalson Riveras (C), Gauis Wellwood (1), Tessa Griffin (1), Ryan Duke (2), Raylee Corlera (2), Severus Seaclan (4), Emilia Oswald (4), Ace Merciless (8), Regan Lee (9), Thamos Keeper (14)

Anti-Careers: Carimen Paisley-Idylwyld (8), Jack Casey (9), Cole Neuk (13), Reeva Olympia (14)

Young tributes alliance: Keila Gonzales (3),

District 0&5 alliance: Cassidy Charm (0), Freya Winters (5)

District 6 alliance(?): Matthew Brown (6), requesting Kaylay Hastian (6)

District 7 alliance: Hawthrone Willows (7), Bryony Mapleblossom (7)

District 12 alliance: Justice Reigns (12), Caitlynne Glowers (12)

Loners: Caliban Rweed (3), Billie Green (5), George Grain (11)

Undecided: Alluria Nexus (C), Sammy Barn (10), Belinda Wren (10), Acacia Spruce (11), Aeralene Ekiert (13)

Alluria Nexus - The Capitol
Rise and shine Alluria!' I limply swat at my head, before I prop myself onto one elbow, and flop onto my back''. Alluria!' ''Although the voice pleads for me to wake up, I stubbornly refuse to. I need my sleep as well. 'Alluria, it's reaping day, for crying out loud!' Before, all the previous attempts to awaken me have failed. But when the instant I heard 'reaping day', I bolt upright, and break into a sweat. Thankfully, it's easy for myself to remember why I'm so nervous about the reapings -

There's a feeling somewhere inside me that I'm going to be reaped. I just know it! Otherwise, the CSTO wouldn't have allowed me freedom, under one little agreement. Especially since I killed my own father, one of their prize scientists. We came to a bargain that as long as I followed the laws of the Capitol, I would be let off. Their revelation alone was suspicious, but so was the tone in their voices, at the time. All it did was suggest that they were plotting, right from the very beginning of the conversation.

Staring into a nearby mirror, my mind trails of to my sister, Electra, another of father's guinea pigs. No thanks to my treacherous father, we're both separated far from one another. I shudder to remember all of the nights when Electra ran out of her room, sobbing as she went by. No matter how hard father tried, his attempts at testing her were always unsuccessful. Only with the first night of Electra's torture, did father succeed with his aim. The only fruit he produced from that, was giving Electra an electroheart. The implant was risky, but she still survived. For anybody who knew about this, it would've been a new world of wonder to them. In my case, however, I saw it as father using Electra as a pawn in a bigger game. A controversial game. Thankfully, I allowed her to escape this nightmare, but at the cost of us being divided from one another. She may or may not have made it to a different district, but as long as the both of us live, the Nexus between us will never break.

Once again, I wake from my daydreams, and look at my milky skin. Sometimes, I ponder about Arunia's appearance, about how she looked, before I was created. Did she have milky skin like mine? Were her bangs multicoloured? Did she have Heterochromia? All of these questions have been left unanswered. Hopefully, I can figure it out.

At that point, I feel a whirring in my mind, and see an image of a girl form. She looks just like me. Only her skin is of a darker shade. Her hair is multicoloured, but her bangs are the same colour. Her eyes are exactly the same.

'This is what I looked like...' I delicately take in the details of the figure, Arunia, and memorise them, from the eyes, to the nose, to everywhere else. Slowly, it fades to white, as I imagine the scene at the reapings. That's it? The reapings are overshadowing what I had of Arunia a few moments ago. I need to get there quickly! For one last time, I squint in the mirror, and no longer see myself, but Arunia standing there, smiling. I find myself grinning back, even as I turn my back on the reflection, and exit the place, possibly never to return agan.

Even though it's more cloudy than normal, I still regret not bringing any pairs of sunglasses, what with the ridiculously psychedelic trends of the Capitol. A stinging sensations pierces into my eyes, as my sight flickers to a man wearing a gold tuxedo, a silver pair of leggings, and a diamond hat, complete with yellow feathers. He's likely to be the epitome of a wealthy aristocrats, with a daring style like that. But I mustn't focus on the clothing that is being worn today - I must reach the city square, in time for the reapings.

As I queue up, I hear the sound of disgruntled mutters, and unwillingly pry into other people's conversations, without them knowing. Apparently, they haven't been allowed to volunteer this year, which gives me the impression that the Government have done something secret to the reapings. Knowing them, they've probably rigged the reapings.

After what seems like eternity, the line finally shifts far enough to let me be at the start of the queue. Cautiously, I hold out my finger, waiting for a drip of my blood to be released. Oddly enough, I don't feel my skin being cut, until the area around there is pressed to paper. I begin to wince at the stinging sensation, until I'm shoved into the main area, where I must enter the correct line.

On the stage, I see President Pluto himself, dressed smartly in a fancy suit. Even though he's nearly 60, he shows no weakness, and gives off an aura that shows he's not to be messed with. Not that any of us would, since Katniss perished. She would've been the only one bold enough to make a stand, but she's been dead for a few decades. Even so, with Pluto's strategic thinking, nobody could surely beat him.

"Welcome, Capitol, to the reapings for the 98th annual hunger games!" He begins, giving us a grin. "It's that time of the year again, where two courageous young juveniles will compete, for the glory of their district, and the pride of their family!" I couldn't care less about his little speech - some tributes compete, with neither district, nor family, in mind. "Now, before we start the video, I need to introduce you all to somebody new! Please welcome the Capitol's new escort!" The crowd give a rompous cheer, as a young woman, dressed with pink feathers, strolls onto the podium, and nervously waves.

"H-Hello everybody. I-I'm Terpsichore Pieris, and I w-will be your new e-escort!" Unlike the other escorts, she doesn't seem to be one of those who enjoy the hunger games. Instead, she seems quite neutral, because even though she doesn't show that enthusiasm, she's chosen a career, based on the hunger games. Maybe it's for family reasons, but I actually, dare I say, feel bad for her.

The screen immediately flashes into play, and everybody watches in astonishment at the scenes as they shift from skulls to arenas, from the treaty to a tribute. I imitate a bored yawn, and cover my mouth with my hand. I couldn't care less for the video, since it just advertises a needless battle royale. At theend, everybody gives a round of applause, and The-sick-or-lay, or whatever her name is, bounds to the female reaping bowl, now giving off an aura of confidence. It's unlikely, but possible that the video pepped her up.

"Let's find out who our faithful tributes will be this year!" She dips her hand into the reaping bowl, containing the slips of names for the females. She has her tongue stuck out a bit, until her face lights up, and she pulls out one of the thousands of slips. Nothing can be heard, apart from the sound of her heels clickling on the wooden platform, as she reads the name out aloud.

"Alluria Nexus!" Before, I had suspicions of this happening, but now, my qualms have been confirmed - I have been reaped for the games. Of course the CSTO wouldn't have let me off for killing my father! Instantly, I concoct a scene where father smirks down at me, inmy comeuppance.

'Be brave, Alluria!' For a moment, I focus on Arunia's voice, and memories flood of when she urged me on when I battled with father. They then slow to a halt, and I silently thank Arunia, before I trod next to the escort (I really should think up of a nickname for her). The sound of murmers spread across the crowd, as if I was a well-known figure. But then again, I probably am, due to that incident. Staring at them, I see nothing but inquisitiveness, drawn on their faces. As their eyes gaze over mine, I begin to feel though as if I'm in an eerie nightmare, and consider pinching myself.

"Jalson Riveras!" At first, not a single muscle moves. Not even a reaction. "Jalson, where are you! We need you!" She asks, in a sing-song voice. One person slinks from the audience, somebody from the same age line as me. I take notice of his emo-styled hair, and how dark it is. Other than that, there's not much to look at. He may not appear much, but there is a fire of confidence, somewhere inside, hidden under his exterior. I see it in his deep blue eyes, the way they are ignited with hatred. Overall, he's a wild-card. And more often than not, wild-cards are threats to our existences.

"Well, let's give a - Wait a minute,Jalson?" The guy smirks, and crosses his arms.

"Yes, my queen b*tch?" The escort rolls her eyes, ignoring the half-compliment, half-insult.

"What's happening... to your hair? It's changing colour?" I lean over to get a better perspective, and see that she speaks the truth - the roots of his hair are now blonde, and as I squint, I believe that I can barely see the blonde streaming to the ends, until eventually, his hair is completely blonde. The crowd gaze over him, before they let out a cheer of enjoyment, and admiration, as if he's some special person. He even goes far as to salute them all. It takes a hush from Terpsichore (finally got her name right!), just to silence everybody.

"As I was saying, give a round of applause to our Capitol tributes - Alluria and Jalson!" The crowd let out a big whoop, and Jalson offers his hand, to which I shake my head. He then shrugs, and I roll my eyes. We'll never get on well, no matter how hard we try.

We're both lead into a grey room, with a posh red sofa in the middle. Terpsichore tells us to sit down there, which I do. Immediately, I melt into the sofa, and embrace thge comfort it provides me with.However, Jalson snorts at her arrogantly.

"You think you can tell me what to do, b*tch?!" Terpsichore gives him a menacing glare, which is enough to make me shrinks behind the arm of the sofa. Randomly, I hear the sound of Jalson giving a slight laugh, before I hear the sound of a stinging slap. Shakily, I poke my head above the arm of the sofa, and see Terpsichore, laying on the floor, a red mark on her cheek. Before I know it, two Peacekeepers storm in, and hold out their tasers ready. Determination plasters Jalson's face, as he kicks one of the Peacekeepers in the groin. Before he can face the other peacekeeper, he twitches as an electric current passes into his body, until he falls limp. The 2nd peacekeeper managed to taser him. He then helps the other peacekeeper, and the two carry Jalson off.

''"Alluria, he can never be trusted, remember that!" ''I sigh, knowing that the voice of Arunia is correct. Jalson may have the guts, but he's no brain, I'm sure of that. But put me in an arena where there are smart people and strong people, and my chances of surving become slim.

Vernon Payne - District 0
As I tuck into my cereal, I look into the eyes of my adoring parents, giving me a smile. With no other choices in mind, I force myself to smile back at them. They're understandably nervous for me, since it's my first ever year that I'll be eligible enough to join the hunger games. I'm not as anxious as I should be, but the nerves are still hidden away somewhere. Not from the reaings, but from my brother, Lucius, who mutters something inaudible.

"What was that Lucius?" I asked, curious of what he was saying. It better not be something horrible about me. Discreetly, I give him a slight glare. Thankfully for me, our parents haven't noticed the dirty look I threw him.

"None of your beeswax, Vernon!" He snaps, sounding quite stern. So he's playing that game, eh? In that case, there's only one thing I can do -

"B-but how is it n-nothing for me to k-know? And why did you say it so m-meanly?" I start to shed some fake tears, and sob into the palms of my hands. Peeking through the gaps of my fingers, I see Lucius, bowing his head in shame. Our parents shake their heads in disapproval, before they ask him about what he said.

"I-I was just saying about how rare it is to see Vernon smile. I-I'm sorry if I upset him, I was worried that he would hate me if I said so." He stutters, sighing ashamedly. My parents just go to hug him, and I watch on, plotting my next move.

"We'll just be preparing for the reapings, ok?" Myself and Lucius nod. "Good, now don't fight or anything." As the two turn their backs on us, I turn to face a kitchen knife, gleaming under the lamp. I begin to stroll over to it, and grab it by the handle. A slight whimper spreads through the room, and I stand facing towards the source of the sound - Lucius. His eyes widen with fear, until I hold the knife over my shoulder. He begins to sweat in copious amounts, and starts to shake his head, pleading for me not do cut myself. Slowly, I lower the knife, and he gives a sigh of relief. Just when his guard is lowered, I charge straight at him, and cut his arm, causing him to scream in pain. Crimson blood flows from the wound, reminding me of the time when I killed one of my brothers from the past, and how it stained his shirt. I lay down the knife besides Lucius, just as our parents sprint down the stairs. Hopefully, I won't be found out.

"What the heck happened Lucius?! We was just about to put on our shoes, and -" Mum begins to shriek in horror, whilst she glances over to me. "Vernon? Did you do this?!" I crinkle my eyebrows, and stare from the knife to Lucius, as if I was just picking up on the detail.

"H-how could you Mum? How could you a-accuse me? Lucius did it to himself, just to get me in trouble! Or at least that's what I think," I release some more of my fake tears, to conceal my culpability. Dad starts to pat my back, and whispers some comforting words in my ears. I nod slightly, and allow my tears to dry up. Mum starts to berate Lucius, for not being a responsible enough brother. Soon, the two begin an argument, until Dad hushes the two down.

"This family will split into two pairs. Lucius, you're coming with me. Vernon, you go with your Mum. The pairs will leave at different times. Sounds good?" We all nod, and Mum grabs my wrist. She drags me out of the house, away from the room where all thedrama happened. However, I turn back, and see Lucius shake his fist at me, before one of our cats leaps onto his back, causing me to chuckle a little.

We trudge through the snow, battered by the elements. The wind whips through my hair, and blocks my eyesight. I begin to step in random directions, until I stumble, and nearly fall. Luckily, Mum grabs my hands, and pulls me up.

"Thanks,"

"You're welcome," We continue to shrug off the weather, until we finally reach the entrance to the city square, where some of the kids have already entered. I promptly get into queue, and wait to enter the main reaping area. It's only a few seconds before I tap my foot impatiently. Can't anybody see that there's a lot of people waiting behind them, and that with every second, we come closer toperishing in the harsh cold?

After a long while, I finally manage to get into the square, and stand in the appropriate line. I can spot a person that wears something like a bedsheet, and wraps himself up in his bushy beard. I don't understand why anybody would NOT wear a jacket in these conditions. The only possible reason is if they're too dumb to understand about the ideas of physics.

"Welcome all, to the reapings of the 98th hunger games! As everybody knows, my name is Socrates Theogorem, and I find it an honour to have you all here, to join me on this grand occasion!" He continues babbling on about the sacrifices we made, in return for safety, but I don't pay much attention to it. If only if speeches never existed, then everything could actually be done in time.

Thankfully, he finishes the boring tale of dullness, and carefully walks to the female bowl, being careful not to trip over his own garment. He stirs the slips around, like a spoon, until he pulls out a piece of paper, and calls a name. I don't pay attention to the name of the female tribute, or anything else, until I hear 'I volunteer!'

A smallish girl with white-blonde hair runs up to the reaped female and hugs her, quickly saying something in her ear.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine!" She says, before she bounds to the stage, a light smile playing on her lips. Despite her small height and frame, I still see bravery in her stance, and some slight physical capabilities. She won't be an easy target - that's for sure. My eyes scan over her,and stop at her eyes. At first, I see nothing in them, but as I squint a look deeper, I see them to be a pure golden colour. I find myself to continue to stare at them, until I slap my own wrist, to snap me out of the trance.

"And you are?"

"Cassidy Charm. But call me Cassie!" Socrates nods at her, before he continues to speak.

"Why did you volunteer, Cassie?" He asks, giving her a serious look. She gulps, and looks out to the girl who was reaped. The two maintain eye contact, before Cassie turns to Socrates again.

"Well, I volunteered because I was protecting a friend from death. I've failed to do so once in the past, but now, if I do die, at least I'll be happy, knowing that I saved a life!" The reason is enough to make the other people of the district cheer, and it even gives some people tears in their eyes. Whilst the others cheer, I scoff at the thought of saving somebody else's own life, in return for your own.

"Vernon Payne!" Wait, I'M the male tribute this year? Crap! Why did this have to happen on my first year in the reapings. I hadn't even finished with tormenting Lucius yet! Although I've lost one target, I can still find plenty of other ones to harass! I'll be dure to do so in the hunger games! Heck, it may even be better than bullying Lucius! Having found more confidence, I start my journey to the stage, where several people murmer in the crowd. I know how much they hate 12 year olds being reaped, because they're the easiest tributes to feel sympathy for. I seem quite weak to the people in the crowd, but I know that somewhere inside me, I have the talents necessary to survive! All I have to do, is go out there, and prove my worth to the tributes!

Tessa Griffin - District 1
"Tessa, I know that I won't be guaranteed to be a victor. But, just... stay strong for me, ok?" I look up into Maggie's eyes, and give her a small smile.

"Maggie, you still have a shot at being victor. Seize the oppurtunity whilst you have it. And I will stay strong for you!" I reply, giving her one last hug, before a Peacekeeper leads me off.

Suddenly, the bloodbath flashes up, with a desert behind the tribute plates. The cameras zoom in on all the tributes, and one focuses on Maggie, staring determinedly at the Cornucopia. The other tributes all face different directions, awaiting the gonging noise. '''3, 2, 1, GONG! '''All of the tributes immediately take off running, the majority heading towards the Cornucopia. The few tributes who run away completely vanish in an instant. Things start to hot up at the middle, where all the tributes join a fight. Maggie hides from the action, and eyes up a weapon. She starts to headtowards it, when a sword cuts cleanly through her neck, decapitating her.

"NO!!!" I scream out, bolting upright with my hand out. I begin to pant deeply, and allow my eyes to take in the various items in the room. Furniture, walls, cushions, photos. Thankfully, it's only my bedroom. I sigh, relieved that what had just happened hadn't been real. It was only a nightmare. Not something in real life, not a memory, but just a terrible nightmare. About Maggie competing in the hunger games. And the same thing could happen later today.

Recently, the sisterly bond between me and Maggie had been broken, due to the ill-timed passing of Mum. She had lost a battle against a mysterious disease. As upsetting as it was, there were still a few positives based on the crisis - At least she died in peace. At least part of her was in me. At least she could join Dad in the afterlife. Reality cruely decided to separate our parents from me and Maggie, meaning that we had to provide for one another. Soon after, we came across another dilemma - Our food supplies were running low. Currently, our only solution is to win the hunger games, and gain enough riches to last us a lifetime. From the distance Maggie has put between us, it seems that she's going to volunteer. She decided to take the sacrifice. There's only one problem - I am just as willing to take the risk, in order to save her.

I start to search through the cupboards, looking for anything that I could have as a mini-breakfast. So far, all I've found is a banana, a few biscuits, two pices of bread, and an orange. I examine all of them, and decide to eat the orange. I peel away the skin, and bin it away. The segments all split away, and I begin to much on the orange, piece by piece. Succulent flavours burst into my mouth, giving me the impression that I'm in paradise. It has been one of the best 'meals' yet. Unfortunately, I may not have another one like it, unless I'm reaped, or if I get some food from the feast after the reapings. Speaking of which, I'd better get there quickly.

The city square is already bustling with all of the excited teens and families of the district. Many of them will volunteer, to prove their worth to the district and their family. However, there are people like me out there, who will only volunteer to save their friends or family. Those who volunteer for the later reason are less brainwashed by the rewards of the Capitol, after battling with 31 others for their survival. They're much more honourable than those who volunteer fot the thrill of the fight. If I do get chosen, and if I do win, then I will become part of the more honourable victors.

It only takes a few minutes for me to be able to enter the reaping area, where Maggie could already be. I search over all of the people, and see her facing towards the stage. I'm tempted to call her name, or to grab her attention, but doing so would risk people seeing me as a hyperactive fool. And I have to prove that I'm a fighter, rather than a ditzy idiot who makes a fool of herself. Not only will I have to prove it to this district, but I will have to prove it to the other tributes, and the Capitol as well.

Nearly everybody hushes down as the mayor makes his way to the podium, flashing his trademark grin at us. Those who are ignorant to his presence receive glares off of the other people, until they murmur an apology, and face the front like soldiers. The mayor gives another smile, this time of satisfaction, to all the people, with some even beaming back at him. It doesn't take rocket scince to know that he's popular around the district. And not just the district - He is respected by several other districts, for showing dedication, fairness, and resourcefulness - all important characteristics to be a leader.

"Hello, to all of district one! I hope you're all looking forwards to another exciting game!" The audience give a holler of gusto, and begin to chant his name. He waits patiently for the cheering to end, until the rambunctious crowd quietens down. "Allow me to once again introduce you all to our escort, Crystal Aughra!" The wanna-be tributes applaud Crystal, as she stands at the microphone, giving everybody a fierce glare.

Crystal is known to be an unsocial escort, and is considered to be one of the strangest Capitolians, for not being bright and bubbly. When she gives advice to tributes on how to act, she'll summarise it in a few words, rather than explain fully. She's considered to be a bookworm more than anything else, as she always dresses as characters from famous books. Last year, she was somebody from a book series by somebody known as C.S Lewis. This year, she wears a blonde wig, with a short blue dress, and a white apron. To be honest, I have no idea on the character she's dressed as. I don't pay much attention to reading and literature, since they're not considered to be important for the career districts.

"Girls? Any volunteers?" She asks, with a grumpy tone in her voice. Despite how she made it sound like sin to volunteer, several girls scream out their choice to do so, including myself. My ears pick up on the sound of Maggie's voice. If only if I had told her that I would volunteer. But it's too late for that now. I look up at Crystal again, as her eyes flicker the crowd, until they meet mine. Lazily, she points at me, and I cheer to myself inside my head. My mission to prevent Maggie from entering these games has been accomplished.

"Name?" Crystal asks, pointing her microphone at my mouth.

"Tessa Griffin," Crystal nods nonchalantly, and shakes my hand lightly. If Crystal ever shakes a tributes hand, it's always a good sign, since it's her way of saying that the tribute has a real shot at winning. The comprehenion of this is vital to any tributes who are competing. It's a privilege to know that she believes in my ability to win.

"Boys? Anyone volunteering?" Bizarrely, there is not a single peep from anybody. How have they lost their motivation to volunteer? Why are they reluctant? They seemed so pumped to volunteer a few moments ago. To see this in a career district seems so... strange. Crystal gives the boys a bemused look, just as she approaches the male reaping bowl.

"Fine! I'll reap somebody instead!" Her hands lowers into the bowl, and fiddles with some slips, before she pulls one out. The slip is unravelled, and she reads over the name briefly, before she calls out the name.

"Gauis Wellwood!" A young 14 year old with blonde hair twitches for a bit, before he shakes his head in disbelief. Several people in the crowd mutter among themselves. A few years back, a girl with the same surname as him competed in the hunger games. She would've won, had it not been for the district 5 male that struck her down. The two must be related to one another.

Grudgingly, Gauis begins to step towards the stage, but is interrupted by the sight of a girl, stumbling towards him. She lets out an outraged bellow, and continues to stumble towards him.She tries to drag him back in line, but he justshrugs her off.

"Savera, I know this means that our promise of protecting each other will be broken, but at least stay strong for me, ok?" The girl, Savera, stares at him with a confused look, before she nods, just as a Peacekeeper grabs her by the arms, and drags her to where she was. Gauis faces her one last time, before he stands besides Crystal.

"Everybody! Tessa Griffin and Gauis Wellwood!" The crowd give a large applaud for us, to which Crystal winces, and covers her ears, in an attempt to block out the noise. Myself and Gauis shake hands, before two pairs of Peacekeepers march onstage, and escort us into a building. We're both taken to separate rooms, where we will both wait for our family members. In my case, Maggie will be the one who visits me. In a matter of minutes, I will find out her reaction to me being chosen for the games. Is she going to be the good sister, and support me? Or will she be mad that I was picked instead of her. Either way, I can still find out.

A few minutes pass, and there's still no sign of Maggie. Just as my hope begins to drop slowly, I see a face, poking through the door. She gives me a look of sorrow, before she bounds towards me, and envelops me in a hug. Instantly, I wrap my arms around her, and give her an embrace. I feel tears slide down my back, as Maggie sobs into my shoulder.

"Tessa! I'm so sorry that I kept my distance from you! I just... thought that I was doing the right thing, by preparing for the games. Never in a million years would I have realised that -"

"Maggie, calm down," I say, softly. "Don't blame yourself - There's nobody to blame here," Maggie gives another large sob, before her arms loosen, and she lets go of me. "At least you are still alive..." Maggie nods, seeing the optimistic side of this, before a Peacekeeper enters the room.

"Time's up!" Maggie sniffs back a couple of tears, as she follows the Peacekeeper out. But not before she gives me one last glance through the door. Part of me wants her to stay with me, but unfortunately, she can't come. If only if the Capitol wasn't as cruel. But then again, seeing a family member right before entering the tribute tubes would only distract a tribute. And distractions need to be kept to a minimal.

Competing in the hunger games reminds me of the time when Dad joined in a fight. The very same fight that got him killed, and left me vengeful. Now I'll be in a situation similar to his. Only it involves kids my age, and a bigger series of brawls. Brawls that I need to win in order to survive.

Ryan Duke - District 2
 “Morning Ryan!”

 “Morning, Ms Diane,” I sigh. Today’s the day that I’ll volunteer, and have to win the games. Otherwise, how else can I gain the power to get my sister, Lacey, out of jail?

  It hurts my inner soul to remember how I got here in this orphanage. It started when my father, who was the old mayor of district 2, was accused of treason against the Capitol. Unfortunately for us, father was found guilty, and was executed, along with mother. For reasons that I don’t know, they decided to imprison Lacey, leaving me to live in an orphanage. As much as I like it here, I can’t stay here forever.

  The other orphans begin to snicker at me, just as I sit down. Last night, I kept proclaiming that I would volunteer, but they all called me a filthy liar, and a wimp. Yet the only time I was a wimp was when I first came to this orphanage. Without Lacey, I felt lost. I cried out for her for a few days, until I got over it. Even though it was a few years ago, the other orphans still remember it.

  The snickering stops when I give everybody a fierce glare. The glare I give when I’m showing people how sincere I am. There isn’t a single sound. Tension has spread among us, and it is never a good sign, because Ms Diane will come in, investigate, and then give a lecture to the guilty person on kindness and peace. And it’s a boring lecture, at that.

  “Is everybody ok? It’s just that I heard silence, and was wondering if any of you was up to some mischief,” We all turn to face her, giving her an ‘innocent’ look, as if nothing was happening. Luckily for me, the others have decided to keep their traps shut. Either they have empathised with me, or they’re waiting for the perfect moment to strike. “Nothing happened? Oh, I apologise, in that case! Don’t mind me – I’m just a batty old woman!” She giggles like a little school girl, before she hobbles outside. As idiosyncratic as she is, you just got to love her.

  The sound of a vehicle revving meets my ears, and everybody else’s. Ms Diane must have hired a person to drive us to the reapings, rather than walk there. She probably doesn’t have the energy to walk all the way there, the unfortunate soul.

   “Everybody, we’re leaving now!” We all line up in an orderly queue, and stroll out of the orphanage. Outside, is a bus.

  We all wait for a bit, for one of the kids to help Ms Diane into the bus. Intolerantly, I tap my foot onto the gravel. Waiting has never seemed good to me in my life. If there is an option to make a remark, I will take it, in spite of who is in the room at the time. I’ve waited too long to volunteer for the games. Now, I must be chosen, no matter what.

  “So… is anybody here volunteering?” Diane asks, spinning around to face us.

   “I-I am,” I say, raising my hand. A few other orphans raise their head, and state that they’re also volunteering. Diane starts to break out in a sweat, and gulps. She’s not used to seeing orphans compete in the hunger games. Every time she hears news of anybody that they’re willing to butcher other tributes, she acts quite casual, but alarm bells ring inside her head. Sometimes, it feels like I can hear them, dinging in her mind.

  We’re all flung into the air by a couple of inches, despite our seatbelts, just as the bus comes to an abrupt halt. Somehow, we’ve all survived.

 “Everybody, now’s the time to get off the bus. People in the back will go first, and then those in the row in front, and so on.” I’m at the very back row, so I get to go off first.

  Once everybody is finally out, we all sprint to the lines, and some people accidentally bump into the other people in front of them. The kids then growl, and purposely stomp on the orphan’s foot. They all hold in the pain, but only just. All of them have their teeth gritted. I didn’t share the same injury, since I controlled my acceleration levels.

  “Come over here kid!” I approach the person that called me over, and give him my hand. He starts to mutter about something, just as my finger is pricked for its crimson liquid – One of the key ingredients in life. My finger is then pressed onto the paper, when a scanner observes the DNA. My name, Ryan Duke, flashes on the screen. The person dismisses me, and I enter the area.

  “I see you made it in one piece, Ryan!” Somebody says, with a chuckle. The voice comes from Stag, one of the other orphans. “I have to put up with a searing pain in my foot. I don’t think I can volunteer this year!” I give him a small nod, before we both wait for D2’s escort, to hop onstage.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  After what seems like infinity of waiting, the escort, Cibus Hawking, waddles to the microphone, digging into a chicken drumstick. Our mayor, is currently sick with a stomach bug, and is therefore unable to attend. I guess that means that Cibus will have to take lead in everything today. Whoop de do.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Hello, all of D2! Welcome to the reapings! I, Cibus Hawking, will not let your tributes die in vain!” He polishes the bone of the drumstick off its meat, and pulls out a double cheeseburger. Disgustingly, he bites into it, his rolls of fat hypnotically jiggling all over the place. “Lebs find oub who our dributesh will be, shtarting wib the boys!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “I volunteer!” I sprint to the front, as do two other boys. We all scramble for that position in the games. Whilst the other two brawl it out, I sneakily take to the stage, without them noticing.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   “Break it up boys! Neither of you are going in!” The two boys, who were fighting, look at me. Grunting in disbelief, they return to their rightful place – in their lines. “Thank you for leaving! Give it up for our male tribute, umm,”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Ryan Duke. Future victor of the hunger games!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   “Ladies and gents, give it up for Ryan Duke!” The crowd give me a round of applaud, just as Cibus offers me a hot dog. Grossed out by the grease, I gag, and decline the offer. He shrugs, and bites half of it off. I’ve now lost any appetite that I had, all because of this gluttonous fatso. For once, he actually clears his mouth of food, before he speaks again. Finally! Some etiquette!

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Girls! It’s your turn!” Only one girl volunteers, probably because the others have lost the stomach to. I wouldn’t be surprised though – Cibus has the rare ability to gross out every person on this planet, even if they don’t show it. The sole volunteer jogs to the stage, pride etched on her face.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “And who might you be?” He asks, some spittle accidentally flying out of his mouth, landing on the girl’s top. She gags a little, and wipes it away quickly.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Raylee Corlera!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Ladies and Gents, give it up for your female tribute, Raylee Corlera!” Once again, the crowd applaud her, just as he offers her a bacon sandwich with ketchup. She refuses it, to which he bites into it, ketchup spilling down the Gi he wears.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Now, I must bid you all adieu! And so will Ryan and Raylee!” The crowd chant our names over and over again, causing Raylee to wave to them. To me, she doesn’t seem like a true killer, and therefore may not last long in the games.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> We’re both sat with one another, just twiddling our thumbs, until Raylee starts to mutter about a few people.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Who are you talking about?” I ask. Normally, I’m not curious about anyone, but Raylee is my district partner, and will be a part of the careers. So I need to get to know her well.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   “Well, remember Ignus, Megan and Crimson?” My mind thinks back to the previous few years. They all placed quite far. Ignus and the other careers were shredded by the anti’s, Megan was the first to die after it was just the careers left, and Crimson died at the hands of the D2 boy. They came close to victory… but not close enough. “They were my first friends. They were my only friends…”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Oh, umm, I’m sorry for your loss,” Her face lightens up, probably at the realisation that they don’t have to be her only friends.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Thanks, Ryan.” <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing"> Keila Gonzales - District 3 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Umm, hello? Can anybody spare some food please?” I stare out to the crowd of people, searching for anybody that seems charitable. “Please? Does anybody have any food?” I begin to sigh sadly, losing all hope to gaining some food for my family. Just as I’m above to leave the town, a young man passes by, staring at me. A look of pity shapes itself on his face, just as he flicks me a couple of coins, and a note.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Use these to buy some food, darling. And stay safe!” He gives me a smile, before he walks off.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  I start to fiddle with the money for a moment, figuring out what to spend it on, when I realize the date – It’s reaping day! And there will be a feast afterwards, for the families of the district! Silly me, thinking that I’d need to beg today, when there would be free grub today! Excitedly, I start to skip home, when I accidentally bump into a big person.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t see you there, an-“The person starts to sniff the air, like a curious dog. Nervously, I step back, right into another one. “My mistake, I didn’t see you there!” The two turn to face me, a smirk on their face. If I have to be honest, then I’ll say that their ugly faces scare me. A little. Ok, a lot!

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Hey Doug, it looks like we’ve got a victim, ‘ere!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “You’re right there, Spike!” The two chortle, spittle flying from their mouth. The one named Spike pulls out an apple, and crunches into it. How, how could he? How could he waste the food on himself, when there are mouths to feed? Like mine…

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “So, young lass! Do you ‘ave any coins for us?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Umm, umm…” I know better than to trust these rogues. They violate the law. They’re big meanies! I’ll have to outrun them.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Oh, lookie ‘ere Spike! I sees me some dosh!” Just as Doug is about to dig into my pocket, and plunder the money I received from the guy, I kick his fat nose. The result – He mutters curses under his breath, and recoils in pain. Taking my chance, I sprint away from them, hearing Spike behind me. If he catches me now, then heaven knows what will happen. I push the thoughts of the outcomes away, and focus only on one thing – escaping the brute that follows me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Several people give cries of shock, as I push past them. But if they found my unanticipated appearance shocking, then what will their reaction be with that Spike guy? I decide to risk a peek, and find myself unprepared for the sight – Everybody is scolding him, for chasing after me. One granny even tells him to ‘sit in the naughty corner’. I have to force myself to stifle a laugh, at that point. I wish that I could stick around to watch the rest of the situation, but my parents will be wondering what I’ve been up to.

My parents open the door, just as I reach the garden perimeter.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Keila! Did you get anything?” Mum asks, just as she pulls me into an embrace.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Yes, mum. I’ve got a note, and a couple of coins. But we won’t need to buy food today! There’ll be the feast after the reapings!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Oh, the feast! I completely forgot about it! Thanks for reminding me!” My brothers exit the house, just as mum gives me a kiss on the forehead. Even if I’m reaped, I can still remain strong. But… what would my brothers do? Will they volunteer? I hope not! Thirty two go in, but only one comes out. If one of them was to volunteer, then either they die, or I die.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Let’s go, then,” Dad says.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Unlike the previous few years, everybody seems more organized. Previously, it was a large clump, but there are actually lines, for once. That makes it easier to move around, and not get constantly squished. Maybe it’s because the district’s peacekeepers have been more organized, ever since the head peacekeeper, Claudius, came into power. As strict as he is, he keeps the streets safe… most of the time.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  When all the boring stuff happens, like the blood testing and lining up, Jasmina Thatcher, our escort, starts banging the microphone with her hand, to see whether it’s working or not. She always does it, even when it’s obvious that everything is ship-shape. ‘Better safe than sorry’, she would say.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Hello everybody! As everybody knows, or at least should know, I am Jasmina Thatcher, the prettiest escort in the world!” If she really is the most beautiful escort in the world, then I’d dread to see what the others look like. Jasmina is uglier than anything, with decaying teeth, neon green skin, and… three eyes? Why the heck did she decide on looking like an alien? It doesn’t make sense!

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Let’s see who our magnificent female tribute is!” She dips her hand into the bowl, and immediately pulls out a slip. “Keila Gonzáles!” I knew that it was possible, and yet, I still wasn’t expecting to be reaped, at this age. All I can do now is take my place, and hope my brothers don’t volunteer.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Onstage, I see them all, staring at me in disbelief. By the look on their faces, I can tell that they’re going to volunteer, to protect me. Discreetly, I shake my head to them, hoping that they pick up on it. They appear quite saddened, but they still nod. I remember how 32 go in, but only 1 comes out. Whilst their assistance would be helpful, at least one of us would have to die. And if we both passed on, I’d dread to think how our parents would cope. We can’t allow them to lose two children in the same hunger games.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “It’s a tough life, Keila…” Jasmina pats my back, before she proceeds with the reapings. “Our splendid male tribute…” She pulls out a slip, and reads the name aloud. “Caliban Rweed!” A 17 year old stands forwards, and looks down on the glove that he wears. He seems to be quite peaceful, but if I stare into his eyes, I feel a fire. A fire of anger. As a tribute, I wouldn’t know what to expect of him. He could either be a weakling, or a strong person. I’ll have to keep an eye on him, in the lead up to the games.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Wish luck to our amazing tributes – Keila and Caliban!” In the midst of the cheering, I spot Caliban scrunch something in his hand. As he opens it up, I see a white powder. How can he do that?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “What is that?” I ask him, observing the substance.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Oh, it’s nothing normal. Just some everyday drugs,” Caliban breathes in the drugs, making his pupils dilate, and bringing him a Cheshire grin. “Want some?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Umm, no thanks,” He just shrugs, and pops the rest of the powder into his mouth. I’m aware of how bad drugs can be if they’re the wrong ones. Therefore, I don’t trust druggies. But how am I supposed to trust anybody else in the arena, when I can’t even have faith in my own district partner? <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing"> Severus Seaclan - District 4 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Sharlet! Are you ok? I heard you scream!” I pat Sharlet’s back, offering her comfort.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I saw her again! She was hunting me down! I shot her again!” Sharlet starts to tear up again. The unfortunate soul had a nightmare, based on the memory of what happened last year.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  It depresses me every time I reminisce the events last year. About how Grandpa died, protecting me and Sharlet from a small pack of bandits. In revenge, I killed two of them. Then… I heard the unsheathing of a dagger. I quickly spun around, and accidentally shot Xena, one of my friends. Apparently, those rogues were her only family. She begged for me to put her out of her misery, which I did, apologising to her just before I fired the bullet.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Once I returned home from my expedition, I found Sharlet, crying. There was another hooded figure, lifeless on the floor. She reminded me of Xena, and was possibly her mother. I told Sharlet that things would be fine by the morning, and that the action was just a nightmare. Despite this, Sharlet became eternally haunted, and emotionally scarred. No matter what, nothing will snap her out of the trance.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Sharlet, you know that it was a dream. If it was real, then I’d never let things come to that again. Not as long as there’s blood in my veins!” She looks up to me, a wry smile masquerading happiness, when she feels blue. She’s trying to stay strong for me, in return for building up pressure. If there’s anybody in the world who needs to stay strong for another person, then I would be that somebody.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  I leave Sharlet to her thoughts, and quickly look to a photo of Grandpa. The one person who knew about the legacy of the Seaclans.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  He taught me about the power we held, just from becoming victors. But then… the second rebellion broke out, and we were called on, due to our knowledge of combat, and our leadership skills. Despicably, they were all backstabbed, betrayed, and left for dead by the other rebels. This left none of our fine fighters, and the Seaclans begun to lose their fighting knowledge.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  He passed on what he knew to me, and begun to train be to be like the earlier generation. I became his work of art, and he gave me a plan of what to do. ‘Go volunteer, keep your judgement clear, lead the careers and lead them to victory, overcome every other tribute, leave no one alive in your wake,’ and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. To make Grandpa proud, and to bring dignity back to the Seaclans.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Unlike the previous few years, nobody seems that keen to participate for their own glory. I don’t know whether it’s because of the poor performance we gave last year, or because they’re still waiting to improve their skills. But it does mean that I have a high chance of competing, and following Grandpa’s advice.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Even as I stand in line for the blood test, an eerie silence falls among us. Only the crash of the waves can be heard in the distance. Normally, there is at least one person from each gender, prepared to battle it out, yet there isn’t that enthusiasm this year. With the guys, it’s obvious that they’re drooling over our escort – Shingle Adlington. The same thing can’t be said for the majority of the other girls. They could be jealous because their boyfriend is paying attention to shingle, but it’s unlikely. What exactly is going on?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Come here,” A peacekeeper gestures for me to enter at her station. I calmly stroll to her, and look at the fluid that trickles down my finger. The stream of blood represents the bloodline of my ancestors. With Grandpa gone, and no real killers left in the family, I am the last person who can become like the others, or else the reputation will never be revived again.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Sir? You can go now. Sir?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Oh, sorry,” I bow my head a little, and quickly walk off into the line containing the other 18 year olds.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  They’re all marvelling at Shingle, who is surprisingly dressed quite normally. She wears her long dirty blonde hair down, and has a silver hairband in it. She is also in a floral bikini that accentuates her elegant curves. The only reason I’m not gaga for her is because I don’t feel ready for a relationship yet. And besides, even if does appear ordinary, why would I fall for a mindless sheep? She needs to be her own person.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Eventually, everybody arrives, and Shingle grabs the microphone. She starts to wink at some of the boys in the same line as me. They all give a wide grin to her in return. Nodding with satisfaction, she reaches out her arm to grab the microphone, and starts speaking.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Hello, to all the residents of district 4! Everybody in this district knows my name, but in case you’re ignorant, I am Shingle. So let’s get this show on the road, and contribute to the games!” She doesn’t even wait for volunteers as she picks a slip from the female reaping bowl. But before she can read it aloud, somebody shouts 'I volunteer !'.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">A girl with dark brown hair and hazel eyes starts to jog onstage. Somehow, her face reminds me of something, but I can't remember what. Maybe she had a sibling in the games?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">" A volunteer - how exciting!" Shingle says, quite giggly. "And you are?"

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">"Emilia Oswald!" Now I can confirm that she has had a sibling in the hunger games. Lasy year, her little sister Jenny competed, and she volunteered. However, Jenny decided to compete anyway, and was nearly killed by an Earthquake. Luckily for her, she survived, and became one of the youngest victors of the hunger games. I presume that Emilia is competing to further bring glory to her family name.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Shingle whispers something to Emilia, before she takes a couple of steps towards the reaping bowl. Before she can grab a slip, I shout out those two magic words that will change my life forever – ‘I volunteer!’

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Everybody stares at me as I step down the pathway. And that pathway will bring me to the hunger games. ‘For honour… for Grandpa… for Xena,” I think to myself, remembering why I volunteered, and who I volunteered for. If they are watching me seizing this chance, then I hope that they are cheering me on, and will support me throughout, even in the arena.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Well, look what we have here – a volunteer! Go on, tell us your name!” I briefly avert my gaze heavenwards, trying to see where Xena and Grandpa would watch me from. I give a small nod to the sky, smiling a little. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Shingle give me a small smile. As if she was flirting. There isn’t a real age gap between us, so I can see why. But she doesn't realise that dating your own escort would be, well, weird.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Severus Seaclan,” I say, staring out to the crowd. “And I will show everybody that my ancestor’s fiery spirit has been revived, to live once more!” With a quotable sentence like that, the audience has no choice but to give a round of applause to me. Well, not to me, but to the Seaclans, and their old ways.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Our tributes this year – Emilia Oswald and Severus Seaclan!” The once apathetic spectators applaud us, their spirits lifted. With the sister of a victor, and me, there is a high likelihood of D4 winning. Yes, everybody out there is a threat in some way, but I just have to overcome them, and all the other obstacles. I mustn't lose my life in this! Remember that this is for the honour! Remember this is is for Xena! And remember that this is for the most inspirational figure in my personal life - Grandpa! <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing">Freya Winters - District 5 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> As dawn breaks out in the sky, I groggily sit upright in bed. The luminous rays that emit from the sun blind me momentarily. It’s now the day that I’ve dreaded since I was little – reaping day. And I could be the tribute. If only if my parents didn’t try to hide me from the horrors, then they could still be here.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  They never allowed my birth to be documented, so that I could escape from the horrors that were set for me in the future. The horrors of the hunger games. My parents figured that if I wasn’t known about, then I could never compete in the hunger games, and therefore not die at the hands of another teenager.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Often, they would have to go and work for food, leaving me by myself. Except I never was alone to begin with. Randomly, a girl popped up into my home, and she was thoughtful and gentle. Even though she would boss me around from time to time, I still enjoyed the company I had with her. There was one problem – She wasn’t an actual girl. She was just a figment of my imagination. At this point, I would be considered mentally insane by anybody. My parents feared for my sanity, but I knew that I could keep it with me. As long as I didn’t completely lose it, everything would be fine.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Soon, there came a day when my parents didn’t return home. The voice in my head told me to search for them, which I swiftly obeyed. It led me to the district square, the place where all kinds of malicious things happened, according to my parents. I was in the place where reapings were held, executions were performed, and where kids could be viewed fighting for their life. How I decided to search in this living hell, I may and will never know.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  After that, peacekeepers came running towards me. I was in their sights, and there was little I could do but run. It was hopeless, due to their speed, but I had to try. Unfortunately, one of them caught up with me, and pushed me to the concrete ground. Tension augmented inside of me, and I desperately wanted to escape, even though things seemed hopeless. Then, the voice came, ordering me to kick him, which I did. Once again, I fled, only to come face to face with my parents, held at gunpoint. The peacekeeper holding the gun threatened to shoot them if I moved closer to them. I ignored his warning, and saw my parents getting sniped as a result. I screamed, before I felt my vision blur, before everything became pitch black.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  The next thing I knew, I woke up in a room, with a man. He claimed that he wanted some information from me, since he only found out about my parents’ secret via torture. There, of course, was the innocent me, but there was another character to be found. One that lay buried in my soul, and was ready to be awoken from its deep slumber.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  In rage, I sprinted to him, and slammed his head on the floor. Once. Twice. Several times more, until he lay dead at my feet. I stared at his corpse, and felt dread inside, since this was all my doing, under retaliation. It left me screaming, and fleeing the area. However, when I entered the main hall, I immediately recognised it as the justice building. There was a ridiculous amount of peacekeepers guarding the area. If I made a wrong move, I could easily be shot in the head. Nonchalantly, I walked down the hallways, until I was met with a familiar sight – The same peacekeeper who killed my parents.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  We ended up being alone together in the same room. He also identified me, but before he could do anything, I shot him in the leg. I could’ve just left him there, but then he could organise a search party for me, which left me only one choice – I had to shoot him, even though I did not want to be the culprit of another death. With slight regret, I fired a bullet into his head, giving him a quick and painless death. Two kills, in one day. And I was no longer scarred by those incidents. Instead, I felt empty, as if I had no emotion. The previously hidden character had possessed me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Out on the street, I came across two corpses, both of which were my parents. I was quite surprised by how nobody had come to collect or shovel them away, until another man came. He burnt their bodies, as the flames tauntingly danced and flickered. It was evident that I never belonged into reality. I wanted to never return, but my kismet had other ideas.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  I was forced to return, and view the hunger games in full action. On the big screen, there were blood, guts and gore everywhere, from how the tributes brutally murdered one another. But worst of all were the mutts, which ripped out the throats of their ill-fated prey. Next year, that could’ve been me, with my throat being ripped out. The only positive to this, was that now I had discovered the whole truth.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  A year passed, and it was reaping day. With me, I brought a gun, in the case of me getting reaped. If I was the chosen tribute, then I would commit suicide, to avoid the terrors that would’ve awaited me. Naturally, I was nervous, as were the other children.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Freya…” I started to panic badly. I lifted the gun to my head, and started a countdown in my head. Somebody next to me screamed in surprise. “…Night” After hearing the surname of the other Freya, I dropped my hand, and sighed with relief. It wasn’t me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Today, it could well be me. My gun has been confiscated, so I can’t join me parents in the afterlife if my name is called. However, that opportunity could arise again when the bloodbath begins. After that gong rings out, I could be the first death. It doesn’t matter though. There’s only one person who would miss me. And that person should be waiting for me near the city centre.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  As I tread into the middle of the city, a feeling of dread swells inside of me. I’m entering the place that has sentenced people’s lives to be reduced. Not only those of the tributes, but those of my parents as well, although it was mainly my fault.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Freya! Hey Freya! I’m over here!” I force myself to smile when I see a familiar face come bounding in – Halie.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Had it not been for her, I wouldn’t have been attending these reapings. I wouldn’t even be breathing! She saved me from committing suicide. I still remember the moment like it was yesterday.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   I was sat by a cliff, one inch from falling over. I was thinking about whether there was life after death. It seemed weird to some people, but I believed in it. Suddenly, I was considering making a jump for it. To see whether what I believed in was true, or false. I could only have hoped that it existed. This was the perfect opportunity to find out.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Just as I was about to take the plunge, a hand grabbed my shoulder. The hand belonged to Halie. She didn’t understand the torment I had to contend with. She didn’t comprehend that I no longer wanted to live in a world with fear, a world that suffered loss, a world with no hope. There was nothing to live for.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Let me, you don’t know how it feels to be able to not know why you are alive! I have lived on simple hope for years! What is the point?!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “There is no point!” Somehow, Halie’s words gave me a brainwave. I didn’t want to die after all. I started to joke a little about it, now feeling happier for myself.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Remember that we must preserve one another’s safety!” She says, still smiling at me. I nod in response. Even though I feel I can trust her the most, she still reminds me of the hard times I’ve been through. And those hard times were what brought me depression in the first place. Eventually, Halie could be the heart of the next bout of depression I could have. I doubt it though.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Yes. We must!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  We both stand next to one another, gripping one another’s hand tightly. I know that if I get reaped, then I must win for her. She has saved my life, but I can’t just unravel the past, and die in the hunger games if I am chosen.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Our escort, Allegro Forte, starts to do the worm on stage, presumably bored. I don’t think he realises that we’re all accounted for, and that we’re waiting for our tributes to be revealed. That’s the problem with him – he’s slow to pick up on the actions that happen. Yet he can be… motivational at times, and will sometimes even cause a laugh to slip from anybody who happens to be in the same room as him.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “’Sup district 5!? Allegro here to rap to the beat, and make you defeat, the others in the games, and give you some fame!” Oh darn it. I completely forgot that he has a passion for rapping. When he starts, there’s no stopping him. “Let’s see who our girl is, the girl we’ll all miss!” Allegro positions his hand in a clawing position, and lowers it like a claw on a claw machine. Two of his fingers close on a slip, and he lifts it out. He then undoes the band that keeps it wrapped. At the sound of the name, Halie gives me a look of horror, starts to screech in terror. Panicking, I tell her to calm down, a bit too assertively. More tears flood down her face.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “I’m sorry Halie!” Tears well up in my eyes, just as I start to walk up to the stage. No… I still need to give Halie something in return for bringing common sense to my mind! But… I can still do so. I just have to survive for her.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “I hope that this guy can be seen, since our boy is Billie Green!” I look out to the crowd, leaning forwards slightly. I see a boy, with brown hair and brown eyes taking to the stage. He seems to be on the verge of tears. I see from how watery his eyes seem. Showing kindness, I give him a sympathetic look as he plants his feet onto the oaken planks. Suddenly, the pressure caves in on him, and a waterfall drops from his eyes. I wish that I knew how to comfort him.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Our tributes are Freya and Billie, so let’s not act silly! Say farewell, wish them well!” Despite his terrible rapping, I have to agree with him. We will both need luck in these games. Billie has his reasons to survive, and so do I. I don’t know much, only that Halie needs me to survive. Although I have the will, do I have the skills required to surv ive? <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing">Matthew Brown - District 6 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Outside of my house window, I see several families strolling to the reapings. Soon, in a couple of minutes, I will be headed to the same destination. I could be heading to face the pathway to death, or I could remain here and live for at least another year, where my mind will continuously drift off to thoughts of the hunger games. Like it usually does.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Sighing, I continue to stare out of the window. Several 12 year olds shiver with fear as they stumble across the pavements. Their parents and older siblings offer them comforting words. In response, the 12 year olds nod, and continue to the reaping square. Two years ago, I was like that. But now, I’ve gained the strength to veil my fear behind a face that shows bravery. A lot of people I know complimented me on my courage, but there were those odd moments where I wanted to reveal the truth on how I was feeling. Nowadays, all that has changed. I can laugh in the face of danger. I can contend with frightening situations. But that doesn’t mean I don’t fear them one little bit.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  The distant tapping of shoes is enough to give me curiosity to see who is producing the sound. I look over my shoulder, and see my parents, staring adoringly at me. Already, I know what they’re going to do.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Matthew,” Mum bends down, and envelops me in a hug. “We know how bold you are, so if you do get reaped, remember to put on the brave face you always wear. There’s a slim chance it is you, but remember that in any situation, regardless of whether it’s positive or negative, remember us, and you’ll be fine, no matter what.” Once again, Mum has delivered one of her encouraging speeches. I will treasure it, no matter what.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Thanks Mum.”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “You’re welcome. Now why don’t you fetch some water?” I nod, and step outside.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  I rotate the cog, lowering the bucket into the well. It hits the water surface, so I lower it that tiny bit more. Once I’m satisfied that it’s been long enough for it to be full, I strain against the cog again. My muscles struggle to comprehend the weight. They start to sting. Just as I’m about to give up, another set of hands clutch the cog. Steadily, the bucket rises from the gloomy depths of the well, until it comes into view. I’m just about to reach over and grab it, when the same pair of hands grasps the handle. The bucket is lifted out, with little to no effort. I face the person who came to my aid, and immediately identify her from my memory.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Thank you Kaylay!” I say, giving her a smile. At first, Kaylay doesn’t seem to notice. She appears to be concentrating on her thoughts. I’m about to return back inside the house, when Kaylay’s head bolts towards me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “You’re welcome!” She then saunters off, headed towards the centre of town.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Kaylay is well known around the district for taking every opportunity to assist somebody; including taking their job at work in case they were injured or ill. But she’s mainly famous for doing whatever it takes to keep her brothers well and happy. Kaylay has helped me more times than I can remember in the past. I hope that she isn’t reaped.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Mum nods graciously as I heave the bucket of water through the door, leaving it next to one of the table legs. I can’t be bothered to lift it onto our table – It would probably buckle under the massive weight alone.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Are you ready to go to the reapings?” Mum asks, slinging her coat on.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Hang on!” I sprint upstairs, headed to my bedroom. There’s one thing that I’ll need to bring with me. And it should be around there somewhere.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Oddly enough, it isn’t on the rack where I usually leave it. I scour for it in the drawers, hoping to find it. There’s no sign of it. In frustration, I slam the drawers shut. I slump against the drawers, sighing sadly. Where could it be?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Matthew! If you’re looking for your medal, I’ve got it with me down here!” Dad shouts.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> ‘Now he tells me,’ I mumble to myself quietly.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  I hang the medal around my neck, clasping it in my hand. To lose this precious item would be devastating, as it reminds me of the person I am. It reminds me of my true personality. So as to reduce the risk of it being spotted and swiped, I tuck it in my Tee-shirt, concealing it from all possible snooping eyes.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Nothing exciting happens on the journey to the reapings. It’s the stereotypical scene in D6 – Lots of kids quaking in their boots, and those that aren’t are either hyped for the games, or feel as if they could survive. Of those three categories, I’m the last one. Everybody has a chance, no matter how scrawny they seem. Everybody has their skills, everybody has their weaknesses. Where I’m concerned, it’s anybody’s game.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  By the time everybody’s accounted for, a slobbering idiot stumbles into view of the cameras. He holds aloft a goblet of wine, and gulps it down in one. Who permitted this slob to – Oh, wait. It’s our escort, Dionysus.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Last year, Dionysus became our escort. He was a civil man, full of courteous manners, and was well-liked by the district. The details afterwards are all mixed up, but most of us presume that one of his family members died. Since then, he must have been hiding his new bond over alcohol. I can’t see the other escorts taking this piece of news well.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Dionysus begins to speak incoherently, his mouth slurring over the words. Everybody gives everyone else a perplexed look. Some twirl their index fingers around their heads. One thing‘s for sure – The Capitolians need to invent a device so that we can understand what drunk people are saying, otherwise we’ll never know the names of our tributes.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  The mayor takes over the reapings, pushing Dionysus into the justice building. The two seem to be scuffling, as they argue over who draws the tributes names. Dionysus claims he’s sober enough, but the mayor silences him by splashing his face with water. He swerves back and front. Back and front. Back and front, like a yo-yo, until he leans back too far. The thudding of Dionysus’s body landing on the stage echoes through the reaping square. Everybody stares in shock as the Peacekeepers drag him off to the train station, where he should wait for us. Once he’s regained consciousness, that is.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “I’m sorry about the rather, umm, impromptu moment. Dionysus seems to be quite… drunk,” Quite drunk? That is the understatement of the year. “So, without further ado, I’ll reveal our tributes, starting with the lads,” I force myself to stare at the envelope that is lifted out of the bowl. Tentatively, the mayor opens its contents, and nods. “Matthew Brown!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Everything seems to freeze in time. Nothing feels real. As tempted as I am to shrug this off as a dream, I can’t do so. Deep down, I know it’s all real.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> ‘… Remember to put on the brave face you always wear.’ Mum’s words float around my mind, almost as if she whispered them just now. Holding the statement in heart, I start to bravely take to the stage, and wave at everybody. They stare at me, like I’m god-like, and they start to cheer. Tears of happiness form in my eyes. All because of my brave face.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “How wonderful is he?! It’s a shame he’s going to the games, but at least he’ll have company on the journey to the Capitol. Company from…” Another slip of paper is revealed. “Max - Wait, wrong bowl!” The mayor blushes a deep shade of scarlet as he plucks a slip from the other bowl. “Kaylay Hastian!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  Immediate outrage spreads across the crowd, as Kaylay descends to the stage, tripping up the stairs on the way. I give her a look of horror, before I watch the scene develop before my very eyes. Everybody riots, shoving peacekeepers out of the way, and beating them up. The reaping square becomes a battlefield for a not-so-fair battle. Several gunshots fire and people fall to the ground. Terrified to become like the corpses, the revolution dies down. Once again, the Capitol won against us. Just like the dark days.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Ok? I guess that concludes our reapings…” Kaylay and I are led off into the same room by Peacekeepers, who eye us wearily. If I was them, I would probably do the same thing, especially after the mini-uprising.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  We’re both practically flung onto a sofa that lies in the middle of the room. Here, we’ll both be saying farewell to our families, possibly forever. I know what I’ll do – I’ll follow my Mum’s advice. To my grave it will go.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">  “Kaylay? I’m sorry that you’re in this situation. You never deserved to be in these games, and –“

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Matthew,” Kaylay places her hand on my shoulder, giving me a vicarious look. “I’d feel sorry for anybody who had to go in these games, even the careers. There are plenty of people out there who have short-lived lives. Without the hunger games, they could all be living in their dream life.” I nod in response to Kaylay. She’s right. Nobody deserves this treatment. Unfortunately, the only thing we can do is to grin and bear it. <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing"> Bryony Mapleblossom - District 7 As the sunset levitates in the horizon, I feel myself being absorbed into the exquisite colours. One advantage to being a lead climber in the mornings is that when I'm high uo, I get to see the amazing views. On the negative side, sunsets always remind me of him - Hawthorne...

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Every day, I feel my heart yearn for him. It always rises and falls. Rises and falls. It rises, due to my love for him, yet it falls, because he’s dead. If only if those Peacekeepers hadn’t reached him, then we could still happily be together! If only if we never ran away! If only if we never took the wrong turn in life! Why did we even believe that we could start afresh in a completely new place?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Quickly, I turn my head away from the setting sun. Reminiscing all those times with Hawthorne will only create deep sorrow. A sorrow so deep, that I’ll never climb out of it, no matter what. Whilst this grief is my foe, I can’t live without feeling it all of the time. It’s just the way life works, from what I’ve experienced.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Miss Mapleblossom, your shift is over. Now get to the reapings,” A Peacekeeper below me says. I stare downwards at the ground. I still remember encountering Hawthorne in a way similar to this, only it was a rainy day, and a Peacekeeper didn’t call for me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   I was ascending up a tall tree, when my foot skidded on a slippery branch. It threw my off balance, and I began to plummet down below. Whenever I tried to hold onto something, it just slipped out of my grasp. I just gave up, and locked my eyes shut, bracing for my body to be met with the ground. Against all the odds, I landed into the arms of a boy, who was a year older than me. It was his first day on the job, so I felt guilty that I caused his injuries. I had to bring him to the hospital, but nobody else would come, since they’re didn’t want to gamble their jobs away. There, I found out that his name was Hawthorne, and that he was responsible for keeping his family alive, ever since his mother died. It felt questionable to me that his father wasn’t what kept his family alive, but I put it to the back of my mind.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   Everywhere I look, I see the expressions of dread, adorned by the teenagers of the district. Very few look forwards to the reapings, which seems quite stupid, but then again, some kids wish to end the needless suffering that occurs in their lives. I feel remorse whenever I encounter somebody with a shoddier life than mine. What makes things worse is when I come across as heartless by other people. It isn’t true. They don’t understand that I’m forlorn, and therefore rarely think on other matters.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   “Hey! Get in line every- oi! Don’t you know what a straight line looks like?! Go one behind the other!” Several kids scatter aimlessly around the crowd, ignorant to the Peacekeeper’s instructions. The instant they move out of line, some of the peacekeepers berate them for their sloppy listening skills. Everything here reminds me of the day me and Hawthorne were force to be separated from one another.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> The series of events began when Hawthorne’s father had kicked him out of the house, just for giving me his mum’s necklace. He tried to explain everything, and stated that his mother meant a lot to me, and so did I. He was about to say something else, when I unexpectedly kissed him, cutting of his sentence. My mind was spinning – I had no idea why I kissed him. He didn’t pull away though, and wrapped his arms around me. Sadly, my parents were passing by, and spotted me with Hawthorne. They demanded for me to return home. They were usually accepting with me, so I thought it would be nothing serious. With that, I said farewell to Hawthorne.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I was given a lecture on how it’s not wise to rush into things. Acting rebelliously, I just walked out, my lips sealed. My parents started calling after me, but I disregarded them. They wanted me to return, to settle this once more. All I wanted was for them to recognise that I wasn’t going headfirst into the relationship.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I tried to clear my mind in the outskirts of the forest, which was one of my favourite places to be. Everything was slowly plunging into darkness. I was seated there for a few hours, just staring there, until I felt the presence of somebody next to me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> He came up with a plan to forget our woes, by fleeing the district. Apparently, he was curious on what lay on the other side. As most people throughout Panem are.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   Before we knew it, we were putting our plan into motion – We both scampered up a tree. Hawthorne flew out of the tree first, before I followed after, landing in his arms. We had now left the district. We was too far in love to remember the consequences that could’ve come with our escapade. There was no telling how long we could survive in the wilderness.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Weeks became months, and we were still adventuring in lands that were previously undiscovered by us. Whilst I did enjoy the sensation of freedom, I still felt guilty for not saying goodbye to my parents. No matter what, I couldn’t shrug the feeling off, not even when Hawthorne was close to me. Other than that, I enjoyed the insubordinate action we decided to take. No Peacekeepers, no rules. Just us.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> One day, I fell asleep against Hawthorne’s shoulder. When I woke up, everything felt nebulous, and there was a slight pain in my neck. I was leaning on him for far too long. I reached out for him, but only felt the air in my fingertips. I didn’t think he would abandon me. So there I was, completely on my own. Something didn’t add up though. There were a few whispers here and there, further confirming that there was a bad omen. When I was least expecting it, a numerous band of peacekeepers stormed in from nowhere. They weren’t from district 7, since the outline of the number on their uniform looked different.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   “B-Bryony, go!” I heard a familiar voice scream. There was a figure that was being half-dragged by the peacekeepers – Hawthorne. I didn’t want to leave him, yet I had no choice but to follow Hawthorne’s orders. As I fled, I listened to the sound of bullets dart past me. The snapping of twigs and the crunching of leaves informed me that the Peacekeepers were still in pursuit of me. I continued to run, not stopping until I was certain that I had outrun them.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   Days and nights of mourning passed, where I believed that Hawthorne’s capture was my fault. Once again, I was lonesome in life. That was, until I came across the same fence that me and Hawthorne bounded over. I had honestly forgotten whether I fled in the correct direction or not, but I still took this as a good sign. I climbed a tree, and jumped down, leading to me spraining my ankle and breaking my wrist. After those events, I would’ve done anything to return home, so I was glad to have made it back into the district. Since then, I cried to myself when my parents weren’t at home, and I was too timid to exit, in case the peacekeepers were to arrest me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   “Good morning, to all you whippersnappers out there. It’s your old grandpa Baobab here, and I’ll be selecting two of you to join the hunger games. One of the two had better win, so that they can buy me some prune juice!” I don’t know why Baobab makes the same reference to prune juice every day, but if he’s trying to be funny, then he’s failed… for the 20th time.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Brian Maplebottom? Is there a Brian Maplebottom here?” A lot of the people laugh, and the mayor whispers something in Baobab’s ear. “Oh, sorry! I meant Bryony Mapleblossom!” First, I lose Hawthorne, and now I’m being forced into these games? This had not been my year. I feel my feet carry me up to the stage. Baobab offers his hand to me. Lightly, I bat it away.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   Just as Baobab is about to announce the male tribute, I hear ‘I volunteer!’ Somehow, that voice sounds familiar. As the boy steps out into my view sight, I gasp slightly. Matted black hair. Bright forest green eyes. A tanned tone to his skin. It- it can’t be?! Surely, he’s, he’s-

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Hawthorne Willows.” How – How is he still alive? I thought those Peacekeepers killed him! Even though I am happy that he’s still alive, I have a few unanswered questions for him – Why didn’t he come see me before now? Why did he leave me to mourn over him, even when he wasn’t dead? How could he allow me to be left in the dark all this time?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">   Nothing much is taken into account when our families visit us. It’s all the usual stuff that probably happens, where we promise to win and all that. Most of the action was actually at the train ride.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Me and Hawthorne just stood there, in awkward silence. Neither of us dared to speak, until I decided to break the silence.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I – I thought you were dead…?” I murmur quietly, avoiding eye contact.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “What?” He asks, slightly confused

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Y-you never came back for me Hawthorne! I- If you’ve been here all this time, why didn’t you come see me?” I did want to vent some of my frustration out, but not at Hawthorne. Tears begin to stream down my face, just as I give him an aggressive glare.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Huh? I thought you never wanted to see me again!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I thought you died in that forest!” Once again, I start to sob, and bury my face deep into Hawthorne’s chest. In return, I feel his arms encase me into a cuddle. Just like the time we kissed. He runs his fingers through my hair, toying with it a little. At the last moment, I hear him whisper something barely audible into my ear.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I’ll never let you down again, I promise,” <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing"> Ace Merciless - District 8 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> My eyes skim over the area, seeing whether I can pick out my target from the other bystanders. Despite there not being many residents in this street, it can still be quite hard to identify who’s who. I mustn’t let this stop me though. The sooner I eliminate this person, the better. For two main reasons. The first one is that I’ll receive my pay. And when I gain money, I gain power. At least that’s my belief on the matter.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> My second reason is that I won’t be in this district anymore for long – I’ll be volunteering to enter the hunger games. With my expertise on stealth and slaughtering, I’d be certain to obtain the glorious rewards that come with victory. Pride. Respect. And best of all, cash. Without it, where would anybody be in life? It’s like blood – Without it, you die. Some people say that it can be just as deadly with lots of it, just as much as minimal amounts can be. My opinion – those people are ignorant jerks! Sure, it does sound harsh, but so am I. Well, at least the clients I meet with consider me to be so.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I’m on the verge of just giving up, which would leave my target safe, when I pick out somebody from the crowd with a similar description. Tall and muscular. Spiked brown hair. Odd crimson eyes. There’s no doubt about it – He’s the one I’ve been looking for: Spike Idylwyld, the supposed bully of Tacker Avenue. I swiftly grab my crossbow from my side, loading it with a bolt. All I need to do now is wait for the perfect time to strike. I can’t have anybody seeing me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Spike suspiciously darts his eyes from side to side. Oh boy. He’s one of those people who are so wary that they appear apprehensive. They can be bothersome to successfully rid them from the world, but they’re more satisfactory to kill than all the other kinds of victims, with the exception of those who fight back, and those who dare backstab me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> He continues to head in my direction, unaware of my presence. At this point, there is only one other person nearby. Stitch, the one who was willing to pay me for slaughtering Spike. He gives Spike a piercing glare, before impatiently tapping his foot to the ground. He’s expecting me to make a move. To catch Spike off guard. Well, he’s right.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> My bolt sails through the air, and slams into Spike’s forehead, killing him on impact. His body crumples onto the stone floor, leaving just a miniature spot of red. I smirk, and carefully clamber down the buildings, nodding to Stitch. Once again, I’ve made a successful kill. I would’ve failed to do this many a time, had it not been for Corbin’s training…

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Some years ago, I was discovered by Corbin, after my parents made the despicable choice to desert me. One moment, we were bonded by our need to survive, the next, I was on my own. The act was enough to give me theories that they died slowly, and painfully. If only if it was like so in reality, then I’d be content. But I was left to fend for myself, until Corbin came into my life.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> He was the only proper father figure I had in my life. Thanks to him, I was taught several skills. Well, only thievery and killing, as well as the insignificant details. Our life was bountiful, from reaping all the rewards of our life of crime. Everything was perfect, until he became deathly ill. Nothing could heal him, ultimately leading him to his demise, and the demise of our days. Once more, I was all by myself.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> The life of crime I had been in for years continued, leading to myself becoming infamous around the district. To hide my identity, I took to wearing a bandana which was embroidered with skulls, thus leading to me being nicknamed ‘the Skull Faced shadow’. Little did I realise that I would become more than a murderer, and more than a thief.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Soon, Peacekeepers and many of the rebels set up meetings with me to complete jobs for them. Usually, the task in hand included stealing from the justice building or disposing of a vexatious citizen. Sometimes, I felt bored in completing the mission, but I continued for the money.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Congratulations Ace! You handled my request very cleanly, I must say,” Stitch says, fiddling around in his pockets. “Now come here so you can receive the prize,” From his tone of voice, it sounds like he’s plotting something. I have a slight inkling on what it could be, so I reload my crossbow. His eyes widen in horror, before he comes to me, a knife in his hand. This is going to be a piece of cake. I release the bolt, and watch as it soars into Stitch’s throat. It’s been ages since I last eliminated a backstabber.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> In the past, a lot of my clients have made useless attempts to betray me. I didn’t see why they would even bother to try to, what with my ability to hit targets in pitch black, and my pinpoint accuracy. Add my natural stealth and climbing abilities to that list, and I’m certain to win. Just like I’m certain to win the hunger games.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I throw away my crossbow, certain that I’ll never need it again. There are very few volunteers in district 8, and when there are, it’s usually to save a family member or friend. So sweet. So adorable. So nauseating. Ugh! It’s better to volunteer for the glory of the district, and for the riches that lie ahead.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Once I reach the centre, I notice that not many kids are waiting to have their fingers pricked. Time sure does fly when you’re out killing, it seems. As the line inches forwards, I rub my hands together, excited at the thoughts of my guaranteed victory. When thoughts like these come, I can barely contain myself.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Only mere minutes later, Applique Batik skips merrily on stage, only to trip over her enormously large heels. Some members of the crowd let out a chuckle, myself included. There’s not much that beats people making a fool of themselves, and then taunting them about it afterwards. Her reaction to the laughter is to give the crowd a glare that could slaughter them on the spot. Instantly, everything quietens down.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Thanks a lot for that,” Applique mutters into the microphone. “That aside, welcome and all that rubbish. Bla bla bla, let’s see who our female is!” Once more, she skips to one of the bowls, only to tumble over once again. More laughter, more glares. “Camiren Paisley-Idylwyld!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Whispers begin to spread across the crowd, sending most of them spiralling into shock. There’s another bloody Idylwyld in the district?! Haven’t there been enough of them already? First Spike, and now this Camiren, whoever she is?! I look to see the girl, spotting her white hair with red highlights. One member of the audience screams ‘Just who are you really?!’

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Camiren remains silent, just as Applique stupidly repeats the question. Sadness overtakes her eyes.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I’m Camiren Paisley. Idylwyld by blood, but a rebel by heart. And mum and dad, if you’re still alive and listening to this, get the homecoming ready.” Deafening silence swarms the reaping square. Nobody can hardly believe their ears it seems. An Idylwyld rebelling against their family? How ridiculous does that sound?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Our male tribute is”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I volunteer!” Strangely enough, I’m not the only volunteer. Applique glances from myself to another boy. She starts to scratch her head, before pointing her finger at me. I smirk in the direction of the other boy, and start to walk to the stage, pulling a cold smile behind my bandana. Everybody seems to be gawking at me, surprised that I volunteered. They’ll suspect that I’ve had enough of the life I’ve been in for years, when in reality, I’m in it for the money that beckons for me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “How delightful! A volunteer, tell us your name!” Applique squeals in delight, and shoves the microphone into my mouth.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “As everybody in the district should know, I am the Skull faced shadow. In case you don’t know about me, then I will tell you something about me – I act as a mercenary to anyone and everyone.”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Hurry up already!” Applique snaps, giving me yet another glare. I just shake my head at her, and continue.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “The time has come for me to reveal my identity. Now that I’ll be competing in the games, you can call me whatever you want whilst I’m in the arena. However, my real name is Ace. Ace Merciless.’ <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing"> Regan Lee - District 9 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “We won’t do it again, we promise!” 

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Are you sure?” 

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">'' “Yes, we’re sure!” As the worker throws us a glare and stomps off, we both laugh. His fuming face was priceless! Oh, the fun we had with the water bucket prank! Yet, we still have to attend the reapings. For the first time out of seven, at maximum. I’m not nervous at all though. There are tonnes of other kids out there. Their names have been entered into the bowls more times than any of us. The odds of us being reaped are very slim. ''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">'' Tension spreads around the crowd as the male tribute takes to the stage, his eyes fearfully glancing from side to side. He isn’t going to last long at all, not if he continues to be a scaredy cat! Demeter pats his back, sipping some of her prune juice. He is of no concern to me, since we never interacted. But I didn’t expect what was coming next – my best friend was reaped. ''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">'' I watch on nervously as the tributes are all raised into the arena: A sweltering jungle full of vivid plants and wildlife. Most of the tributes become absorbed into the intoxicating colours and miniscule details. The only exceptions are the careers, and the odd tribute. 5…4…3…2…1…GONG! ''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">'' My friend only just notices the gong, but before she can take off, a career knocks her down, and starts slamming her head against the very same plate she was standing on. Blood pours everywhere, and she begins to plead for mercy. They don’t listen though... A few seconds later, she passes on from this world. Away from the pain and harshness of reality. I don’t know what to think. What to say. What to do. I don’t even know anything. Only that I’ll probably never forget this moment. For eternity, this will come to haunt me in my dreams. Dreams that are dressed as nightmares. The kind that bend your sanity until you become mentally unstable. And there’s nothing I can do about it… ''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> My mind snaps back into reality as some random impolite child shoves past me. I roll my eyes. That guy may not have noticed me, but he sure will when I volunteer.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Ever since my friend died, I isolated myself from the others. There were those odd friends who supported me, but I never became as close with anybody else. Then they came. The feelings of brutality and the need to fight. I began to train with bows and arrows and throwing knives. All useful long-distance weapons. My target was to volunteer for the games when I was ready. After five years, I believe stage one of my journey had ended. Stage two is to volunteer. Stage three is to win.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Demeter waddles on stage, dressed as some kind of bird. I try not to focus on the colours for long, as they only remind me of the arena my friend died in.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Welcome to the reapings, whippersnappers!” She screeches, coughing at the end of it. A lot of us cover our ears, since her voice is so screechy, that it is almost unfathomable. In the distance, several dogs howl, probably suffering from the curse of Demeter’s horrible voice. “Two of you young ‘uns will become tributes in the hunger games, which go back to, umm, nearly a century! In two years, it will be the first quarter quell since the, uh, battle. On that note, let’s see who our lad will be!” She slowly shuffles across to the bowl that holds one boy’s destiny to face the games. “Jack Casey!” I watch on as a brown-haired boy with green eyes takes to the stage. My memories flash as I begin to recognise Jack. I’ve seen him several times selling wood for money. Unfortunately for him, his family can’t afford enough food on the table. He could be an unpredictable wild-card, as far as I know.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Come here, sonny!” Demeter tries to wrap her plump arms around him, but he nimbly dodges out of her reach. She tries again, to no avail. For one last time, she thrusts towards him, only to fail once more. With a heavy sigh, she moves onto the microphone.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “And our female tribute is Haven-“

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I volunteer!” My words echo into the sky, followed by nothing. As I begin to travel to the location of stage two, several people murmur behind my back. I bet they weren’t expecting a volunteer this year…

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Before Demeter can even move her lips, I snatch the microphone from her hands, and stare out to the crowd with a blank expression on my face.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Regan Lee!” I pass the microphone back to Demeter, whose face moulds into a small smirk.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “You seem like a strong girl Regan. You do look like you’re in dire need of some prune juice though!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Sounds lovely,” I mutter sarcastically. Demeter doesn’t seem to pick up on it though, and shoves the straw of her prune juice into my mouth. She squeezes the carton, which releases the icky taste of prunes into my mouth. Not being able to handle such a terrible taste, I smack her hand away, and gag on the fumes. Great. Just great. I’m not already in the games, and yet I’ve already made my first foe – my own escort. She doesn’t know it though, because in her eyes, I’m probably another of her grandchildren to lecture and tell stories to, like an average boring granny. If I win, then she could be moved to a better district to escort, and therefore be unable to annoy any future tributes. The only thing is that I might die with 30 other tributes. That remaining one person will be victor. With great luck, I will be the alpha of the games. <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing"> Sammy Barn - District 10 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “3, 2, 1, GO!” The bulls slowly trot, prompting myself to shake my head down at them. Usually, they’re more active than this. But not today.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> One of my friends, Drake, lightly kicks his bull like he would a horse. No reaction. A perplexed expression spreads across Arnold’s face, as it does on Tony’s and mine. Why aren’t the bulls up to it today?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I carefully dismount my bull, and carefully stroke it on the back. I’m no animal doctor, but I can tell something about it doesn’t feel right. For some reason, a gloomy aura exudes from the bull. Sadness, perhaps? I think I might know why – Reaping day. And they might have a feeling that one of us will be chosen to enter the hunger games. I can’t say I blame them – My gut instinct seems to believe the same thing.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Figured out anything yet, Sammy?” Tony asks, patting his bull on the head.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I believe so,” I reply. “I have reason to believe that the cows know exactly what day it is. And they’re understandably worried for us.” They all nod in response. Thank goodness they’re always here to support me. And they’re the reason that I had the strength to overcome the anguish that I had to undergo from my former tyrants.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I guess I’d better be off! My father will probably kill me if I don’t collect the eggs from our hens!” The second line could actually happen though – Father has physically hurt me in the past, and it could happen again when I least expect it.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Oh, ok then! See ya!” Arnold, Tony and Drake all wave their hands at me as I make my way back to the farm my family are paid to maintain.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> The hens cluck in surprise as I gently lift them onto a different perch. So Henrietta has laid none, but all the others have. And that’s the fourth day in a row. At this rate, father will have to slaughter her. Poor Henrietta… The only way for her to escape this fate is to lay an egg tomorrow. Or it will be presumed that she can no longer lay eggs, which will ultimately lead to her execution.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I gather the eggs into a woven basket, which was specifically designed for this. There are several pockets, to hold the eggs in, so they can be stored on the inside and the outside. You never know when it is the beginning of a super profitable day.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> A whistle hoots to inform us that the reapings will start soon. Crud! I was too busy absorbed in counting the eggs. And not only have I lost time, I lost the total! I guess I’ll have to leave father or mother to it whilst I attend the reapings.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Awkwardly, there’s a deathly silence amongst everybody today. Usually, there’s a lot of chatter amongst the teenagers, but this year, tension has brewed in this spell of silence. Maybe we’re still in shock that the twist is that there are no twists. After all, it just… doesn’t add up. All it seems to do is fail to give the Capitol a better reputation from the districts, with the exception of the career districts.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Sammy! Over here!” Even though I spin around quickly, I’m still rammed into by three people. They all let out a weird chuckle, before they high five one another. It’s Tony, Drake and Antony.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Don’t leave me hanging!” Once more, the trio chortle, before I receive their high-fives. On a day like this, we will stick together, no matter what.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “G-Guys?” Antony stutters, his breath becoming shorter and rapid with every moment.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Yes? What is it Antony?” we ask in chorus. He doesn’t reply. Instead, his finger foes the talking, as it points in the direction of our escort – Butch. In all honesty, I’m intimidated by him as well.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Ugh, that creepy happy salesperson again? Jesus Christ, why was he even accepted as escort? All he does is smile, day in, day out. He has no skills in anything at all, except for creeping out little kids!” Drake’s rant is inarguably true, but I don’t see that side of Butch. There must be something explanatory to why he behaves like this. If only if I could support him…

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “HAHAHAHAH!!!” Butch starts slapping his knee like somebody told him the best joke in the world. The crowd exchange fearful glances: At moments like these, Butch is volatile. “Today, two of you will, hehehe, compete to fail to save your measly little lives! Hahaha!” Tony faces me, and circles his finger around his head. All I do is grunt in response.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Sable Wren! Hehehe, what kind of name is that?! Haha!” A small 14-year old shakily takes some steps towards the stage.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I volunte-“ The sound of another girl volunteering is cut short, and proceeds a small drumming sound. Another girl stands tall over another 14 year old. Her fishtail plait hangs down her back. Somehow, I have a nagging suspicion on who this lot are.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I volunteer as tribute!” As the new volunteer takes to the stage, she lightly pats the shoulder of Sable. Once I see her face, my heart falls into my stomach – No, it surely isn’t, is it?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Hahaha!!! I can’t believe you’re actually signing your own death warrant! Hehe! Who the HELL do you think you are?!” Butch once more awkwardly bursts into fits of laughter, causing him to hack all over the place.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Belinda Wren.” No! Some of the crowd mutter. Belinda… why did it have to be somebody so sweet that they play with the younger children of the districts? I once played tag with her with Antony, Tony and Drake. So to see her leaving shreds me slightly. Nobody can have their hearts fully tattered.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Unexpectedly, several of the audience members roar in immediate rage, and start to fight against the Peacekeepers. Little do they know that at a spontaneous moment like this, they stand no chance of coming out on top against the sheer force of the guns.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Several gunshots fire at once, sending us all spiralling into panic. Thud! Thud! Thud! Three bodies fall to the ground. None of them I recognise. I’ll send my regards to their friends and family as soon as the reapings are over.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Everybody goes back into place, just before Butch pulls out a slip from the male bowl. The ringing of the sudden battle blocks out any voices, so I have no idea on who the male tribute is.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Hahaha! It seems like somebody will be eliminated for defying the rules!” Tony, Antony and Drake all give me looks of sympathy as Butch once more speaks. “Hahaha! We can say adieu to Sammy Barn then!” Crud. Always heed the warnings of the bulls. I feel the crowd staring at me as my feet begin to transfer myself besides Butch. This might be a good thing though – I can figure out the problem to Butch’s insanity.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “You’d be dead at the bloodbath if you were in the hunger games at this moment! Hahaha!” The spectators shake their heads at Butch. But they’re not who matter now. Where are they?

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Then I see them: My main three friends, all giving me different looks. Antony begins to break down and cry, whilst Drake turns away the moment he sees my eyes watering. Instead, he throws a cold stare towards Butch, for reaping me. Finally, Tony gives me a hopeful look. Despite the hope, it won’t help me in the games: I couldn’t bring myself to hurt anything or anybody. And that will be my biggest downfall. <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing"> Acacia Spruce - District 11 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> The sight of the peacefulness on Ash’s sleeping face fills my spirit with the light. I find myself smiling warmly at him. How he manages to sleep after a dreadful incident occurs, I will never know.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Just yesterday, my Mum was murdered by two peacekeepers, after her boss grassed her up for money. She managed to fend them off, but not before she herself received a wound. There was an ocean of blood around her. Then something else hit me – Ash was also missing.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">'' ‘Here, put this on… if you’re going to rescue Ash, nobody must now who you are… lest they come for revenge,’ she says, handing me a black mask one would wear to a masquerade. ”Now go… save your brother…’ '' That was when she finally passed on, out of the misery she must’ve been suffering from. Now I had to follow her words, and save Ash. ''‘Nobody hurts me or my family. I’m coming Ash. With a vengeance.’ ''

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> A ringing interrupts my thoughts on the recent events surrounding us. The reaping bell. Crud. I’m late. In a hurry, I kiss Ash on the cheek, which causes a light smile to play on his face. Thankfully, he doesn’t stir from sleep. I once more smile at him, before I set off towards the reapings.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> With the way I hurry through the street, it reminds me of being in a life-or-death situation. That’s probably because it is – I could be executed for being late to the reapings. It’s either that, or all the events of yesterday – There was a heck of a lot of peril.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “There she is, stop her!” Great. If it isn’t Milo and three men. Wonderful. I just had to come across the eldest son of the man who I murdered to avenge Mum. Of course he’s pining out to win in the feud between our families. There are only two things I can do; Run, and hope for the best.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Gunfire rains behind me as I flee from the quartet of grim reapers. Adrenaline reigns over the calmness I usually hold, as I fling myself onto a set of bins to reach the wall.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> As I leap for the top of the wall, I find my hands clasping not onto brick, but railings instead. The ground below me blurs at the moment I look back. A small squeak escapes my mouth, and I find myself nearly slipping. Luckily, I regain my concentration, and fling myself up to safety. Although I’ve found myself trying to forget recollections of last night, they’re now being unveiled again. In reality this time.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I somehow find myself visualising the moment where I entered the third storey of the house. In the distance, two men carefully guard something. They stroll through the hallway, just as their eyes land on me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Over there!” Swiftly, I eliminate them. One by swinging my axe into him, and the other by kicking him down the balcony. Down he plummets, ending up entering the death zone.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Then everything snaps back into reality.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I’m not at the Banks’ residential home anymore. I’ve somehow found myself at the reapings. And I’m with the other 15 year olds. Luckily for me, nobody seems to have paid any attention to my sudden presence.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Thank God I’m safe!” I think to myself, just as several Peacekeepers investigate the gunshots that previously sounded off. The same ones that were aimed towards me. Hopefully, my pursuers get what should be served to them.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Acacia Spruce!” I can’t believe it – Out of the fire, into the frying pan. I’ve been able to outfight several pawns in a game of pain, and I’ve escaped the jaws of capture. But there’s nothing I can do about pulling an escape from the hunger games. Devastation shapes itself onto my face, as I find myself walking up to the stage. Only everything fuzzes out again, until it once more becomes the living nightmare of yesterday.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> This time, I see myself stealthily walk down a flight of stairs. The voices talk about a boy being locked up well in the cellar, before they pass me. Ash… He’s stuck in there, unless I can distract the guard.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “George Grain!” Once more, the sound of Ujurak, our escort, breaks the rift between memory and reality. Thank goodness though: It’s never good to linger in the past.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Nobody moves at first, until somebody is nudged. “Is George Grain here?” The same boy who was nudged ends up strolling up to the stage. Now that I see him, I’m in shock, as he has the build of a real man. He is going to be SOME person to beat. It won’t be easy, but I might be able to manage it, should the time ever come.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Ladies and Gentlemen, give a round of applause to George and Acacia!” A wave of regret seems to pound George in the face, as looks behind him at Sassafrass, one of our most recent victors. The two were known for being close friends, but now there’s tension between them. And by the looks of things, George seems to be the one who created it. No wonder he feels regretful. Unlike me. The only regret I have is not saying farewell to Ash. <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing">Justice Reigns - District 12 <p class="MsoNoSpacing">'' Clank! '' Oops. It looks like I accidentally broke Mother’s new vase. Maybe I shouldn’t have been training with the antique sword in the living room after all. Now I’m going to get into trouble… And that’s the one thing that I was brought up to avoid, for the entirety of my life. And now I’ll be facing it, at long last.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> As I hear the footsteps, I swiftly hang the sword onto the display case and seat myself on the sofa, bracing myself to greet with fury for the first time.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I catch a small glimpse of blue fabric at the doorway. Adrenaline bursts through my veins, as I’m about to meet my first fight-or-flight situation. I could either pretend that it wasn’t me, or I could face my fears. With the first one, there’s nothing or nobody else to blame. So fight, I must. It could come back to haunt me in future though, depending on the outcome.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Mother’s warming face peeks around the door, briefly giving me a small smile. But then her eyes avert to the pile of fragmented pottery. The smile disappears.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> ‘This is it,’  I think to myself. ‘This is where her maternal love for me ends’ I feel myself quiver with fear on the spot, the adrenaline still flooding my system. I lower my head in shame, expressing my sincerest apologies via body language. Nothing comes. Or maybe I’ve been anticipating the tension too early. There’s only one way of knowing for me: I look into mother’s eyes.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Unusually, there’s no disappointment or anger fuelling there. Replacing what should be there is instead sympathy and a small slit of… happiness? Maybe she never liked the vase, and only brought it home for the sake of bringing it home. Or something else. After all, who would display an item only because they can? Well, other than the Capitol.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Did you not really like that vase?” I find myself asking. Somehow, the words slipped out from my tongue. I was supposed to keep it under wraps, but it’s too late to turn back time.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “How-How did you know?!” She splutters, almost choking on her words. “Wait… of course I would know that – You’re the most observant person I’ve ever known, Justice. You’re basically the modern-day Sherlock Holmes. Other than how you prefer to avoid trouble, rather than tackle it head-on. But that’s a good thing.” She stops to take a heavy breath. Half of it is wasted in order to compliment me and show how proud she is of me. The other half is for her customers in her shop. “In all seriousness though, what did you see that made you think so?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I’ll explain later.” Is my response. I don’t feel like having to explain things. Not when the reapings are coming up. The thought of them divides my mind into another personality: Sullen, silent and slightly depressed. Imagine having to be left in a massive cage with 31 other strangers on your tail – You wouldn’t   know much about them – Only if you paid attention to them. And whilst that seems to be my speciality, I’d need to focus on building up my skills as well. And multi-tasking like that would be a pain in the backside.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “We need to get prepared for the reapings. But before we do, I need to inform you of something: Yvonne and her son Flame will be walking with us to the reapings.” Of course. It’s always a tradition for Mum to invite her ‘customer of the year’ over whenever it’s reaping day. I’ve only seen Yvonne once, and she seemed quite nice. But I’ve never met Flame before: I can only hope he isn’t as rebellious as his fiery name implies to be.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Just as I finish buttoning up my shirt, rapping sounds on the door. ‘Coming!’ I look at myself in the mirror, checking to see whether or not I look ok enough. After giving a satisfactory nod, mother shouts for me to come down. With one final eyeful of my room, I swiftly follow the sound of mother’s voice beckoning me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Flame, this is Justice. He’s a year younger than you, so be nice to him.” Flame gives a small grunt in answer. I can’t help but to sense something about him. On the surface, his eyes seem unfocused. Bored even. But hidden there is a faint glimmer of malice and mischief. He is not one to be trusted. I think that I’ll steer clear from his path for the time being.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I guess we’re all ready, so let’s get going.”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Out on the streets of District 12, you’re almost certain to come across one of the representations and sufferers of poverty. To spot one, all you have to do is notice whether their ribs jut out, or if they have a bloated belly. Sadness and regret are the two main emotions of the souls. To know that there’s people who deserve better for their poor status scares me. That doesn’t mean I would give away all my belongings for them, for all I know, they could be crazed murderers or cunning thieves, lurking amongst the common cattle. You can never be certain of who you should trust.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> The journey to the reapings was incredibly boring – Yvonne kept saying hello to her friends and even a few strangers. Not a good idea, particularly on a day where two of us will be lost. And then mother kept excitedly informing her on future sales and products for her shop. I may sometimes help her around, but I don’t currently intend on continuing the family business. Then there’s Flame, who has been silent the whole way. Occasionally, I see him smirking out of the corner of my eye. He’s definitely up to something, although it feels too unpredictable for me to guess what.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Nothing else happens afterwards, until I stand in the appropriate line. Flame is stood behind me, whispering to some of the other boys. I pay none of my attention on them, and instead focus on father, who guards Hayley Wildor.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> For one moment, his eyes hover towards me. A slight smile plays on my lips, yet father doesn’t notice me. Or if he does, then he’s decided to ignore. Good on him and his job.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Hey sh*t head!” I ignore the shouts of Flame’s friends, and instead focus on Hayley as she skips merrily to the stage. It doesn’t last.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> A muscular arm twists me to face in the opposite direction. Three emo-looking boys sneer at me as Flame crosses his arms.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I never knew you had poor hearing! Or was you too busy waiting for daddy to come give you a hug?” I can’t help but to tightly clench my fists. I could’ve given them a comeback… but I have no reason to suggest that their victory is assured. The final move is easy – I keep my mouth shut, and try to face the front. But the same arm roots me in place.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Why are you bothering to f*ck with us? You should be watching the reapings, sh*t head!” I roll my eyes at them – They’re the reason I haven’t been paying attention. Because of them, I’ve already missed the name of the female tribute. All I know about her is that she has chestnut hair. I can’t see her facial features or the colour of her eyes from back here. As soon as the male tribute is announced, I should be able to listen to her name once more.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Justice Reigns!” …And I’m the male tribute. This is not going to go down well. Especially since I’ve been raised to be cautious. I quickly look from side to side, seeing whether there will be any volunteers to take my place. There are none.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> The moment I come face to face with father, I feel myself becoming heavier. Pure shock is written all over his face, as he watches me stand next to Hayley.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Caitlynne Glowers and Justice Reigns, everyone!” So the chestnut-haired girl is Caitlynne. Now I can see that her eyes are blue. And that I’m almost a full foot taller than her. Surprisingly, she doesn’t emit any fear that reaped tributes usually produce. In her entirety, she seems determined to win. Despite my morals, I need to show the same willpower as her. There is a good side to this though.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I’ve learned that everybody needs a change every now and then. And it is what I need now. <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing">Aeralene Ekiert - District 13 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Connor… Why did you break Sasha’s toy rabbit?” I ask, with slight malice in my voice.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I-I didn’t mean to! She wouldn’t share with me, and we ended up arguing over who got to play with it. We ended up pulling the head and body apart. Please Aera, don’t hurt me!” His pleas fall on deaf ears. My hand reaches for the whip in my pocket, a devious grin spreading on my face.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Connor, Sasha. Both of you, into the kitchen. Now. The rest of you, stay here.” Fearfully, the other children nod at me. With a small smirk, I follow Johnny and Sasha into the kitchen.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> They’re both in a state where they appear piteous, as tears flow down their cheeks. They knew the consequences of their actions. They knew that punishment was harsh here. They knew this, and yet they chose to not play by the rules. Now they’ll play a game of loss, where any courageous thoughts are replaced with those of fear. It’s terrible though – If they have the bravery, then they would have the potential to rebel against me. But when it comes to the chores that make kids seem accident-prone, then they’re only going to worry their heads on obtaining serious injuries.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Sasha, stand back.” For one moment, relief floods through her eyes. “Don’t think that you won’t get the whip, just because I’m asking you to stand back!” I hiss. With a small squeal, she tucks herself into the empty corner. I turn and face Connor, leaning forwards slightly. “You better learn your lesson after this – All the recent rule-breaking has tired me out a bit. You wouldn’t want the orphanage to collapse to wreck and ruin because I’m taking a well-deserved break, wouldn’t you?” Connor rapidly shakes his head, as more tears stream down his face. “And stop crying! It’s a way of manipulating me into giving you some slack. There can’t be any favourites in my orphanage!” I crack my whip at him, landing blow after blow. Cuts and bruises form all over his skin. On his forehead, his bare arms, you name it; there would be an injury there.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> A gasp sounds behind me. One that belongs to Sasha. I guess that means it’s her turn to go under what Johnny has had to. But before I can call her over, Connor mutters something. It’s barely audible, but not enough for me to hear a single word.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “What was that?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “What was what?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “What did you say?” Everything goes silent for a moment, as Johnny lowers his head in shame. “Should I whip you for not answering me?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “No, no, please n- fine! I said ‘What about Mabel? You’ve chastised everybody to breaking point, and yet she is let off for anything she does wrong. You’ve contradicted yourself there.” I mutter a small curse to myself, knowing that what he says is the truth. Mabel is the favourite, but he wouldn’t understand why.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> For all my life, I have lived here. My mother used to run the place. Every day, I would help out around the place. No matter the job, I would assist mother into it. Everything was dandy and normal, not like the stereotypical orphanages everybody heard of. Despite how average it seemed, there was one secret that only I never knew. I didn’t even know there was a secret, until I was 14. I had to ask mother why I was never adopted. She begun to bawl, and took a seat at her desk. That was the place where she revealed that I was her daughter. Father promised to be good for me when I was coming, yet there was barely any money. He ended up being executing for stealing. All because he wanted to be able to care for me. That was how she came to owning the orphanage. As heartbroken as I was, fury was overtaking. And I unleashed it to slap mother across the face.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> For a month, I kept myself locked in my room. Despite myself being the only person in there, I was never alone. I had my emotions and Nibbles, a pet rat that always hung out with me. I would sometimes sneak upstairs to give him some small scraps of food. One day, he bit me. In retaliation, I stabbed him to death with my pocketknife. Now I was truly alone. To show my regret, I gave him a small grave in the garden. But some jerks dug him up and mocked me about it. That was when I had a personality exchange.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Usually, I would starve myself or steal all the bread and cake from the orphanage at night to fill my needs. I didn’t want anybody to take notice of me. But one night, when I was 15, somebody saw me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Her name was Mabel, and she looked to be a year younger than me. When we first saw each other, she was headed to the kitchen like I was. As we both told each other our tales, we ate some cake that had been stowed away. There, she revealed that the rats were spreading a disease around the district. I simply shrugged this off, and before I knew it, we were friends.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> However, there were rats in the orphanage after all. I woke to a scream one day, and heard footsteps run into a particular room. Mother was dead. Until then, I never realized how much she meant to me, even if she did lie to me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">    "I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything. I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry please wake up please! I should've been nicer, should've said goodbye... please wake up..." I said aloud, sniffing in between each sentence. And then there was a wailing noise. A baby boy, with eyes like mine, was there in mother’s arms. From his eyes, I knew I had to protect him.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">A few days after, I declared myself as the new owner of the orphanage. From the safety of the basement, I set the children chores, but I was strict and harsh on them, with the exception of Mabel. But even so, we avoided each other like we were the plague. Little did I realize that there was a policy where minors couldn’t run orphanages.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I had to usher the children into their rooms, so that they’d be ignorant to the fact that peacekeepers were coming for us. Whilst they hid there, the baby and I were locked in the basement, a machete by my side. Unfortunately, the baby wouldn’t stop screaming. I tried to soothe him down by reassuring him, but it wouldn’t work. In the end, I covered his mouth with my hand. I breathed with relief, only to realize that the baby wasn’t. I screamed as reality dawned on me – I had suffocated the baby I had vowed to protect, just as peacekeepers stormed in. There was only one thing for it – I had to fight back.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">I slaughtered two of them with ease, but the third one punched me in the face. He tried to get another one to connect with my face, but my machete worked its wonders and slashed his throat open. I then fled upstairs and swung at the next figure, only to find that it was one of the children. The rest of them stared at me wide-eyed in horror.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">After my encounter with the Peacekeepers, I ended up becoming more harsh to the children – If they misbehaved, I would unleash a flurry of whip attacks onto them. I would coldly smile throughout, but in the end I would commiserate with them. Due to my inexperience of love, I don’t know what it feels like, or how to show it.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">“Aera, may I go yet?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">“Hmm, oh fine. Yes, go. Sasha, stand here now!” Connor sighs with relief and flees the room, almost tripping over on the way out. Sasha though keeps pleading for me to spare her from the pain. I look at the clock and see that it’s time to head to the reapings. “You’re in luck Sasha. It’s time to leave for the reapings. But when we return, you will receive the whip. Come now.” With slight hesitation, she follows me into the living room, where everybody else is already prepared for the reapings.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">“We got changed, so that you didn’t have to tell us to.”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">“Oh, umm. Thank you for telling me Mabel.” I find myself giving her a small smile. “Now let’s set off.”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Since I don’t know how to drive, I had to walk everybody to the reapings. It was quite tough, with all the pushing and shoving and the strangers staring at me in disgust, but we got there with no problems. Well, apart from the fact that James slapped Ryan.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">And Fiona walked straight into a lamp post.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">And Radon went missing for a few minutes.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">About half of the orphanage kids are eligible enough to enter the hunger games. Mabel included. But I wonder what would happen if I was chosen to participate in the games. As much as I hate to admit so, I think it would be the perfect future for me. No more little kids to look after, no more responsibilities that I would have to take charge of. It’s the best life for me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">Our escort, Mikasa Jaeger, doesn’t seem to be on stage. Great. She’s going to pull off another of her tricks. Typical Capitolians, always showing off what they have and can do.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> But I’m surprised when Mikasa simply walks to the stage, like any normal escort would. Maybe she’s had enough of the fun, and instead decided to be normal.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Welcome.” She says, bowing her head in respect. She doesn’t speak much at the reapings – Just welcome, followed by the tributes names, then she’ll ask the crowd to applaud them or to wish them well.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Aeralene Ekiert.” Well, that’s one way to make my dream of entering the hunger games real. This is it – No more responsibilities unless I win. Slowly, I walk to the stage, looking to the skies. Mother will hopefully be watching from up there, urging me to live on for her and the other orphans. If somehow I am right, then I’ll have to make mother proud. Show her that I really did care. And that I can learn what love actually is in the arena.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Hansel-“

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “I volunteer!” Rings out in the square, echoing all over the place. Everything is deathly silent. Nobody moves a muscle. Then comes the scurrying of footsteps. Lots of people spin the heads, in a feeble attempt to spot the volunteer. Everybody is bewildered, until I point at the person – A fifteen year old with piercing red eyes and longish electric red hair. Even though he has the looks to be a potentially bloodthirsty killer, that isn’t what I see. Instead, he seems… relieved. Maybe he broke the law unwillingly and has to escape. Or maybe he’s fleeing in fear of something ominous happening.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Name?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Cole Neuk.” Alarm rings on everybody as they see Cole’s heart-stopping looks. They must all be thinking ‘At least things won’t go bump in the night with him’.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Aeralene and Cole.” There isn’t a single applause for us. Most likely they’re scared of Cole, and I seem run-of-the-mill to them. That’s where they’d be wrong – I have hurt people before. I’ve killed people too, both innocent and guilty. But then again, they wouldn’t know.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Peacekeepers lead us into a room, where it’s admittedly creepy. The bookshelves are lined with dust, as are the chairs that surround a tatty table. It seems like they have new technology to print scenes from movies in a 3d format. But this is just the way the room was left.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> There’s a slight knock on the door, and I grumpily open it. But the face of the person brings a smile back to my face – Mabel.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> We both embrace each other, and I feel my shoulder become damp with Mabel’s salty sea of tears. I myself nearly cried.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Aera, the other orphans have been celebrating. But they don’t know the gentleness inside of you like I do. Even though you’ll be gone, I’ll still think of you back at the orphanage. And I’ll keep it in order in case you don’t return.” Mabel’s generosity reaches my heart, making me feel grateful that I still have her as a friend.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “You really would do that for me?” Mabel nods once more, sheepishly looking at her feet. Now it’s my turn to wrap her in my arms as I allow the tears to escape. “Thank you Mabel.” Before I know it, a Peacekeeper escorts Mabel away, leaving me by myself.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> This was the last I’ll ever see of her. There’s a 1 in 32 chance that I’ll be the victor, but that’s quite small by standards. Everybody has a chance, and yet mine won’t be enough to become victor. Some say that I would win from how ruthless I was, but my biggest and only shot would be if I find an ally. And even so, the controlling manipulative side of me would control them. Can I really take such a big risk? <h3 class="MsoNoSpacing"> Thamos Keeper - District 14 <p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “But Leo, I could swear I heard somebody sleep in this room without paying for it!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Quit swearing that you hear things – I’m certain that nobody would be capable of sneaking in here. To try to make no sounds up here would be like trying to slice a cannonball with a balloon – It’s not worth an attempt that would steal several minutes of your life away! Honestly Neura!” The adrenaline that once flowed through my body system dies down, as the two employees exit the room in favour of another one. Yet I don’t dare move for one minute. Two minutes. After three minutes, I find myself sighing deeply with relief. God knows what would’ve happened if they caught me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">''' Thud! ''' I groan in slight pain as I fall face down from under the bed. It was the only spot I could think of to hide when the two stormed up here. Simply laying under there would never be a good enough spot to hide in, and neither would the closet and the bathroom. This was my last resort, and I’m thankful it actually worked. Enrolling in a permanent career sure did me some good in this situation.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Had my parents not been so greedy for money, I wouldn’t even be out here having the time of my life. They would never have sent me to the career academy I trained in, and I wouldn’t have learnt several skills, like being charming and camouflage, as well as weaponry. IT was the usual life of training – making a few friends here and there. Yet despite the good times, it felt somewhat… boring. So one cold midwinter’s night, I abandoned the academy without being detected.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I was freezing to the point where I’d become a Popsicle, but there was somebody else nearby who was even closer to that point – A hobo, suffering from poverty with no warm clothing, on the brink of having his life force cut short. It was the perfect opportunity to strike. Cuts oozing with blood marred his body within a matter of moments. He stood no chance of survival. For once, it felt like my life had all of its tasks completed. Nonetheless, I chose the path that took me on a bigger adventure than this one. Besides, who would want to waste 3 years of their life still learning about skills they already have, only to miss the chance they had of displaying them nationally? Not me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Since then, my schedule has basically been the same – stay in a hotel room at day and slice and dice at night. But I still loved lurking in the same area, until I got drunk and, well, I got a stranger pregnant. Horrified by the prospect of becoming a father, I fled to another part of the district to continue my legacy. Only now, I’m not notorious enough for the murder mysteries that inhabit this district. Which is why I must volunteer. Or forever suffer boredom and remain ignored. Neither of those options sound like fun to me.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> But first, I have to get the hell out of here.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> There are only two ways out from what I can tell – Through the door into what should be heavily guarded hallways, or out of the window where I could break my bones. Being arrested or becoming physically handicapped to the point where I would be seen as an easy kill? For me, it’s a no brainer – I’ll take my chances with the law – If I’m selected for the games, then they can’t do anything about it.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Quickly taking a peek through the thin slit through the door, I double check for any security members. Nobody. This is going to be easier than I thought!

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I slide through the door and find myself in a maze. Well, a maze that can easily be solved. I follow the red carpet to a staircase. Unfortunately, my lucky streak seems to end here – Voices echo into my ears, as do heavy footsteps. My eyes glaze over my surroundings to see if there’s any way I can escape. The next floor? But I’d have to continuously run. The elevator? Maybe, but I wouldn’t know what lies on the other side until the doors slide open. And there’d be no hiding then. The lunch trolley? Seems stupid, but hiding under the sheets could work.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Why does Keith always have to forget the trolley whenever he leaves?” Crap. That’s my signal. Swiftly, I dive under the sheets without making a single peep.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “The thing is Max, there always seem to be something important to distract him. Probably to skive off work. But I don’t think today was one of those days.”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Why do you say so, Auric?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Haven’t you heard Max?” This Auric character tuts in disappointment. “District 10 started to rebel against its Peacekeepers for reaping a popular girl.”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “No way!”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Yes, way. Three people ended up stone dead. Their family members must be mourning and shedding a thousand tears.”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Auric… can we not talk about it anymore and just finish Keith’s job?” No response. The two just get to the job, dragging the trolley and me into a different place. The elevator? Seems like I didn’t have to pick just one after all.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Jazzy music plays in the background as Auric and Max stand in silence. Everything is slightly unnerving, in all honesty. Even though it’s just a tad, it’s enough to make me let one off.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I take a small peek from under the sheet, and see Auric and Max glancing at one another in utter confusion. Whilst Auric gives a disapproving look to Max, he just shrugs. Crap, that was close as hell. Next time I may not come off so well.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing">''' Ding! ''' I’m nearly flung forwards as the trolley once more skids forwards. The exit! I see it! It’s within my grasp!

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Max, just leave it by the reception desk – that way, Keith will see that he still has a little job to do.” Wow, can things get any easier for me? I double check to see whether anybody else is here. Nope. Seriously, things seem too quiet.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Aha! Gotcha, you little scamp!” I gulp as a really fat chef bends down and drags me out by the ear. No way am I letting this prick conquer me!

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> My foot flies from behind me into his crotch. With a satisfied grunt, I shove the doors open to escape the hotel that nearly got me branded to be a criminal. Still, my work here isn’t done yet, as the chef stumbles towards me. Fiddling for the knife in my pocket, I step back so that he charges past me. His eyes meet with mine as a silent challenge, but it’s over before it’s begun – My knife slits his throat open. He gasps and chokes on his own blood, his knees buckling to give way to his obese body. Now I really must be off.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I don’t even look back as I dash though the streets, passing by several mutts. Lions, panthers and even unicorns start to freak out at my sight when I pass by them. In all honesty, I never got to see them that much. But I won’t be able to anymore. Well, unless I’m not chosen as the tribute. But my entry into the games is guaranteed.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I don’t even realize I’m already at my destination until I see the large lines of young adults. Everybody mutters to one another. Usually I don’t eavesdrop, but I end up hearing several things. None of them are interesting to me – It’s just the same story about district 10’s anger being sparked by their female tribute volunteering. Why would they though? If somebody volunteers, it’s often because they want to be a part of it. But this person sounds way too nice. It was probably to save somebody special to her. Whilst that is all well and good, it could be misinterpreted to everybody until the view the other district’s reapings.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Hello, district 14,” Mutters our escort, Rufus Wells. “I’m not going to bother with any introductions, since you should know everything about the games,” During the awkward silence, I stare at Cassius, my brother and victor of a previous hunger games. “We’ll start with, I dunno, the males?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Several voices boom across the crowd like a bombing, but I speak the loudest. Lazily, Rufus points his finger right at me. I pump my fists in victory, before jogging to meet up with him. Behind where I was, I hear a few people cheering for me. They sound familiar. All too familiar.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Ok, nice to see you, whatever. But on a different note, what’s your name?”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Thamos Keeper.” If there’s something I’ve learned, it’s never to act excited for the games. It’s basically the sugar that makes you hyperactive, and less focused. It seems like a stupid thought, but I chuckle to myself.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Now that we have a guy here, how about we find a partner for him?” Just one person volunteers, and it sounds more like a shriek than a shout. Either they panicked, or they have mental issues.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> I see her now, with short blonde hair and piercing gold eyes. Eyes that are filled to the brim with insanity. Despite this, she seems kind enough.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Thank you for deciding to join Thamos here.” I roll my eyes at the pronunciation mistake, but go with the flow. “But we need your name.”

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Reeva Olympia.” I follow her eyesight and spot a terribly burnt boy. As the two make eye contact, Reeva starts to whimper.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> “Thamos and Ree-“ Rufus sighs in annoyance as somebody begins to laugh out loud, cackling hysterically like a witch. But then I realize that the laugh belongs to Reeva, as she starts to cry from the laughter. Yup. She’s definitely insane. It might serve as an advantage, it might not. But regardless of her usefulness, I’m still joining the careers. She doesn’t seem to be a stereotypical career. No, scrap that. She doesn’t seem to be career material, moral-wise.

<p class="MsoNoSpacing"> Well, it looks like they’re one ally down. But the quality of the members will matter more than the quantity.

The arena, and what to expect
The basics: For this year, the gamemakers decided to change the course of history... but only inside of the arena. Their theme for this year was an epic era in history that offered tributes a new barbaric life. Several ideas were taken into consideration, but by far, their favourite idea was the prehistoric era. They all believed it to be simply brilliant.

The shaping of the arena is unique to what has been done in the past. The gamemakers felt that the circular shape was too...repetitive, to say in the least. Because of this, they constructed the outline, so that it would be shaped in the outline of two bones that were fused in the middle. To them, it was 'A compass pointing in the four directions, but without the globular rim'.

As for the bloodbath, it will be hosted right in the middle, and rather than the cornucopia being gold, it will be coloured, so that it's silver-white, to represent bones. It is also sculpted like a large skull, complete with jagged teeth. Several metres behind the tribute plates is a ring of lave that surrounds the bloodbath area. To leap from one side to another is impossible and crazy, which is why there are lava-resistant logs that will assist the tributes with crossing the boundaries. However, the logs are quite unstable, so one slip... and you would be history. (No pun/ joke intended)

Scenery: Throughout the arena, there will be three different biomes - Rainforests, swamps, and boneyards. The rainforests are humid, and hold tall trees, perfect for hiding in. It also stores a fewedible plants, and is the only place rain will fall in, thus making the rainforests a hotspot. It may seem quite safe, so to compensate for what could be boredom of the Capitol, lots of mutts roam the area, waiting to cause havoc. To further cause problems, most of the plants appear like the harmless ones, but they are actually poisonous. The only way to tell which ones are safe is the result of whoever has eaten them.

The swamps provide tributes difficulty in strolling through the matted weeds, and the boggy ground. To attempt to sprint through this would be near-to-impossible, and attracts the marine mutts. Yet despite this, the gamemakers have hidden special items in the swamps, which could give the tributes an advantage. There are four items to find, in total.

The final area is the graveyard, which holds tonnes of hiding spaces, in the form of rusted bones. If a tribute has the skill, they could make tonnes of fortresses, and even use the bones to intimidate the others. Mutts are also less likely to enter the realm. Unfortunately, the gamemakers have set more traps there, and there isn't any food or water.

Non-tribute allies: The gamemakers have added a humourous touch to the games, by inserting some cavemen ino the arena. There are two kinds - the Neanderthals, and the Homo Sapiens. Both have an advantage and a disadvantage -

The Neanderthals are easier to befriend than the Homo Sapiens, but they come up as dumb, and will wrestle anything that attacks the tribute, rather than using their brains.

Whilst Homo Sapiens take more to gain their trust, they will come up with more tactiful ideas, and may even outsmart any threats.

Dangers: The gamemakers have decided to include crocodile and sea snake mutts into the swamps, so that if they detect a tribute thrashing about, they will swim after them. The crocodiles will take delight in chomping on the tribute, but the sea snakes offer a more slow and painful death, via their toxic bite. The poison pumps into the tributes body, until they go into paralysis, and their heart rate slows to a halt.

On land, the tributes will have to contend with sabre-toothed animals, tracker jackers, and dinosaurs. Each one proves to be as deadly as another, and it's safe to say that it takes a foolhardy or brave person to fight them, as they all attack in groups.

But worst of all, is the mysterious tribe - They will search everywhere, for a glimpse of a tribute. If they spot one, then they will stalk them, until the tribute feels uncomfortable, and possible becomes mentally unstable. The very same tribe will then knock the tribute unconscious, and torture the tribute until they die. Once dead, they feast on their internal organs.

Everyday, some cracks will appear in the arena, and produce lava to fill the gaps. If any tribute is unfortunate enough to be lying where the ground splits, then they will suffer in a fiery death, as the lava will eat into their skin, and dissolves the tribute. More often than not, these cracks will open near volcanoes, which will be set to detonate on a special day, releasing even larger pools of lava. The tribute will have to run like crazy, and never stop. If they do slow down a lot, then their chances of surviving a slim. With every second, the lava will speed up, until it comes across one of the three main biomes.

Sponsoring
The sponsoring period won't begin until the bloodbath is written. When it is, people may sponsor three tributes of their choice, but only two can be their own. Afterwards, everybody will have to wait three days from the day they started to sponsor, until they sponsor another set of three tributes. Then they wait another three days before they sponsor three tributes, and so on. Every tribute starts with £200, and gains £50 per sponsor.

The reason it is once every three days is because I will lose track of who sponsors who, and due to my terrible memory (complains under breath), I would be more than likely to miss out somebody's sponsor comment.