Before the Music Dies: An Unsung Song

Lone Warrior: Chenille Anders, District 1 Female Tribute

Take a few steps back.

Run forward.

Jump!

And... miss.

Two feet. I missed the lowest branch by two feet.

"Try again!" I heard my mother's voice calling from behind me. The words didn't come out in the encouraging way that most people would say them. But I didn't care; my mom was just like that.

I didn't want to try again. I wanted to go inside, where it was warm, and dry, as in, not pouring rain.

It was still early in the morning on Reaping Day. It was hard to tell if the sun was even up yet because of the thick layers of dark clouds that coated the sky. The weather wasn't helping my mood much, either.

I got to my feet again slowly, as my mother started talking again. "This is your last chance to practice at home if you're going to volunteer this year! People will be more impressed with a younger Career victor than an older one!"

Yeah, like she would know. She was never thrown in to the arena.

But she acted like she had been, training my sister and I for the Games. She had learned a bit, but never actually volunteered. So she had settled for training us in the things that she had learned, like hand-to-hand combat with knives.

"Good, Laecia!" She called encouragement over to my younger sister, also outside training. She was already halfway up her tree.

I groaned, watching her ease with the climbing, and took a few steps back again.

"Don't do it with a running start!" Laecia called over to me. "It makes it harder!"

Since she was even higher by now, I decided to listen to her for once, and approached the tree.

I placed one hand as high as I could on the bark of the tree, which was oddly smooth now, from being washed by the rain. But slippery. Dangerous.

Okay, now the other hand. I stretched my left arm out as far as I could, literally hugging the tree, almost dangling a few inches off the ground. I pulled my legs up to balance against the trunk.

No encouragement from anyone.

I awkwardly made myself climb a little bit, only about half a foot, and then I could reach the lowest branch. My left hand just scraped against it, so I climbed slightly higher, almost falling again.

There! I could hold on to it now. My other hand seemed to carefully glide over to the branch automatically, and I pulled my legs up along the trunk and then slid over so I was sitting on it. I let out a sigh of relief, realizing that I had been subconsciously terrified. Laecia gave me a silent thumbs up as she scurried up the trunk of the tree adjacent to mine.

Mother just sighed, muttering a word under her breath that I thought was, "Finally."

The climbing got easier, as long as I kept a pace that was slightly on the slower side. As if cheering me on, the rain faded out to merely a light, summer drizzle.

Mother went inside and checked the time. "Girls!" she called up to us. "Breakfast!"

What she really meant was that it was time for us to help make breakfast.

That's when I realized that I had no idea how to get out of the tree. I eased myself on to the branch right below me, balancing just long enough to sit down on it and repeat. Finally, I got to a point where I would have to switch to the other side of the tree to keep doing this. But it was only about five feet until there was the ground, so I just let myself fall and landed smoothly on my feet. I followed mother and Laecia inside.

Breakfast was relatively simple- a basic stew with some bread. It was eaten while listening to another one of mother's pep talks about volunteering. "Don't look like a lunatic," she advised. "Like some of those other tributes."

"Make yourself look collected. And if there's more than one volunteer, don't get frustrated, just make sure that you're the one chosen."

Easier said than done, I thought.

After breakfast, we started getting ready for the Reaping. I bathed quickly and went to my room to pick out my Reaping outfit.

I selected a light pink skirt and a plain white tank top with a dark green cardigan over it. For my shoes, I pick black flats. As my district token, I wear an emerald necklace that was my mother's from when she got married.

After I'm dressed, I did my hair up in an elegant knot, which is how it was usually done. It was annoying when it got in my way.

Mother announced that it's time to go to the Reaping. It was a short walk to the building where it was held, where we signed in and took our places.

Laecia went over to the twelve-year-old section in the back, and I was a little bit in front of her with my friend, Denny, in the section for fifteen-year-olds. Mother joined the crowd.

"Hey, Chenille!" Denny said.

"Hello," I replied. It sounded sort of stiff; maybe I was just nervous.

"Are you really going to volunteer this year?"

I nodded.

"That is so brave! I would never be able to do that! I would be frozen if they even just called my name- forget volunteering!"

I resisted the urge to tell her to shut up. She liked to follow me, so I really had no idea where she got her talkativeness.

The mayor took the stage shortly, and began to tell the same story that he told every year. The story of Panem. How there were disasters, and all that was left were the original thirteen districts and the Capitol. How the Dark Days started and the districts rebelled. How District Thirteen was obliterated while the rest of the districts were given the Treaty of Treason, which, in turn, gave us the Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games were so simple. Each year, through the Reaping, for each district, one boy, and one girl, between the ages of twelve and eighteen were selected. They were then thrown in to a vast outdoor arena. The only rule? The last one alive was the victor. Well, that and don't step off your metal plate before sixty seconds were up and the unspoken rule about no cannibalism.

Then he read the list of past victors, along with the announcement that Silke Lovwood and Haven Fate will be the mentors for this year. Our escort was introduced along with this. Her name was Feriah Vincent, and from what little I'd seen of the other escorts, she blended in with them well. She began to give her speech about how glad she was to be here. I bet she was. Most escorts would kill for a position in a Career district.

Her official speech ended, but her next words grabbed my attention. "I also have a special announcement for this year!" she called in her ridiculous Capitol accent. "It's time for the reading of the card!"

What? It can't be time for the reading of the card; it's not a Quell year!

But she pulls a slim card from her pocket and begins to read.

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

Silence. Shocked silence. That was what filled the air.

A Quell? Twenty years early?

"Let's pick our tributes!"

Feriah Vincent walked over to the large glass ball that contains the girls' names and walked back over to the podium. "Kophia Lore!"

"I volunteer!" I called out, already making my way to the stage without bothering to see who Kophia is.

"Ooh, a volunteer!" Feriah almost pulled off being surprised. "And what's your name?"

"Chenille Anders," I said proudly.

There are no other volunteers. Good. No one will get in my way. Not today. Not ever.

"Time to select our boy tribute!"

"Dage Yirl!"

Someone volunteered almost as fast as I did, and introduced himself as Fabian Bloom. My first thought was that he seemed attractive enough. But, no, I couldn't let myself be distracted by anything now. I bet that some of the other girls might be, though.

My thoughts were interrupted when the mayor took the stage again and read the Treaty of Treason, which I tuned out as best I could. I'd heard it enough times to know what it says.

He finished reading and gestured for Fabian and I to shake hands. We did, the anthem played, and we were taken to our rooms in the Justice Building.

The room was extremely elegant, the furniture made of velvet (not like I even knew how I knew what velvet even was), the floor decked in rich, thick carpeting. I waited for my visitors, somewhat impatiently.

My mother and Laecia were the first to visit me.

Mother was positively beaming- you'd think that she had just won the lottery. Laecia's eyes were filled with admiration and fear at the same time. It was an honor to be related to a Career; but she wanted to be certain that her big sister was coming home, and nothing could guarantee that.

Mother gave me more advice, telling me to remember what I've learned, and how to play everything in the Capitol. As pushy as she could be, she's still been my... mentor, in all of this, along with being my mom.

Laecia was quiet for nearly the whole time, letting mother talk, until the end. "Please come home, Chenille," she whispered once mother was done.

"Of course," I said, trying to sound confident. But why was my voice shaking? I was stronger than that! I was a Career! I was Chenille Anders! "I'll come home," I promised. "And then it'll be your turn if you work hard enough."

This got her to smile, and mother commented, "She's learned from the best: you."

Her unexpected praise made me feel stronger. "And that's why I'll win. And come home. To both of you." I turned to Laecia. "And you will, too, one day."

"I'll be the best victor ever!" she exclaimed.

I laughed. "Yup. Because you'll have me as your mentor when I win."

Only mother noticed my slight hesitation before I said "when". When I win. Not "if". I will win.

"Right," she said. "You deserve to win the most."

The Games weren't about who deserved it though, I thought.

The Peacekeepers were signaling that time was almost up much too soon for any of our likings. I gave my little sister and mother each a hug and told them that I loved them. The one thing that I didn't say was goodbye.

Denny was next.

She was ranting about how brave she thought I was, about how I would win because of it.I finally cut her off long enough to say, "Well, it was easier to volunteer when you were prepared for it."

I knew that Denny, unlike me, hadn't been training for the Games. She'd wanted to, if for no other reason, to be like me, but her parents wouldn't let her, and she wouldn't go against them."Yeah," she agreed. "You made it look easy."

"It's really not as hard as you think, Denny." I knew that she wasn't the brave type.

"I think it's almost time for me to go..." I didn't think that it was, but I didn't want to argue with her, not now, when there was a chance, however slim it was, that we might never see each other again.

"Alright," I sighed. "Bye, Denny."

She gave me a quick hug. "I'll see you again!" she called over her shoulder as the Peacekeepers escorted her out.

I really hoped that was true.

I wasn't expecting any more visitors, but I had one more round. The girl I volunteered for, and her parents, as well as her brother.

I saw the girl, Kophia, clearly for the first time. She wouldn't have stood a chance in the Games, even as a Career.

She must have been twelve to get called, but she looked like she was eight. She was abnormally skinny, and short. Her long brown hair hid her face, but you could still see the remains of tears in her dark blue eyes from when she thought that she was going to die.

I remembered her. Laecia had talked to her for a few minutes one day, I forget what about, and mother had dragged Laecia off, saying that she shouldn't associate with the poor people of the district like Kophia, the small girl that stood in front of me now.

"Thank you."

The first words she said. They were barely audible, and shaky. As if she was scared, she bolted out of the room.

Her parents wished me luck and thanked me again, before they too, left before the time was up. I got a slightly longer speech from her brother, whose name I learned was Darren. He must have been really close to his sister, because he told me how thankful he was that his sister had been spared for her first Reaping.

"Um... you're welcome," I said uncertainly. He just nodded and walked out.

It wasn't long before the Peacekeepers came to get me to the train station.

Since we were a Career district, there were several cameras there for us. I smiled and waved for them, not particularly because I wanted to, but because I knew that it would get me sponsors.

Fabian did the same.

Feriah whisked us on to the train, only staying for about two seconds to tell us that dinner was in an hour before she disappeared.

I didn't mind, so I went to my quarters, which made the room I had my visitors in look like the Seam of District Twelve. I didn't feel like changing out of my Reaping outfit, so I pretty much just paced in circles and explored.

Dinner went by quickly, with courses and courses of food. I tried my best to not eat too much, not wanting to get sick right before the Games. It was hard, though; there was so much, and it was all so good.

After dinner, I pretty much went straight to bed, though I didn't sleep well. Already my mind was on the Games. So when Feriah came to get me in the morning, announcing that we were about to pull in to the Capitol station, I felt like I'd barely slept at all.

I got ready quickly, adding to my feeling that the time was passing at light speed. Too quickly. Because soon, we'll be in the arena. But I didn't mind everything passing quickly, because the Games hadn't even started yet.

And if my guesses were correct, our time in the arena will go much too slowly.

Big Brother: Fabian Bloom, District 1 Male Tribute

"Are you all packed?"

"Yes." Shade's response was barely audible, and fear had crept in to her voice.

"Don't worry," I told her. "I'll volunteer and win so we'll have a house in the Victor's Village. And during the Games you can stay with Devena."

"But what about dad?" my little sister asked quietly.

Just as a bit of background, our dad is sort of nuts and has a short temper that he mostly likes to take out on Shade.

"You'll be safe from him during the Games with Devena," I reassured her. Devena was my best friend, and I had told her my plan of winning the Games. She had agreed to let Shade stay with her and her family while I was in the arena. "And then I'll win and come home."

I honestly had no plan for how I would handle our dad after that. But Shade didn't need to know. Maybe he would relax a little once I volunteered like he wanted me to. He wanted Shade to, too, even though she was only twelve.

As if reading my thoughts, Shade asked, "You're not volunteering just because dad wants you to, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Then why are you?"

"We've been over this," I reminded her firmly. "Let's drop your bag over at Devena's before the Reaping starts."

It wasn't a long walk to Devena's house, and she answered the door almost as soon as I knocked. Her parents didn't seem happy that I was there; they hadn't particularly liked me ever since Devena and I had tried dating once. We broke it off, though, so nothing would get all awkward with us.

"Hey," Devena greeted as she swung open the door.

"Hey," I replied. "I just wanted to drop off Shade's bag before the Reaping."

She held the door open for us in response.

I walked in and Shade followed as Devena closed the door behind us.

"Why don't you put your bag upstairs, Shade?" Devena suggested.

"Okay," Shade agreed, already racing up the steps.

Devena was silent for a moment. "Have you guys eaten yet?" she finally asked.

"I don't think Shade has." It was a lie- neither of us had. And Devena obviously saw right through it, but she didn't comment, just walked off to the kitchen.

Shade came back downstairs just as Devena returned with some food. We didn't stay long after that, just long enough to eat and thank Devena again for everything.

Shade walked out of the house before me, and for the one second that she was just out of hearing range, I asked Devena, "You'll take care of her, won't you?"

She nodded and I went to follow Shade.

After about... one second of thinking, I decided that we should just go straight to the Reaping. No point in taking the risk of going home first. We were already ready anyway.

Getting to our places didn't take too long, since we were among the first to arrive at the Reaping, signing in quickly. Shade went to the twelve-year-old section in the back, and I go to the very front section for eighteen-year-olds.

It takes a long time for the Reaping to begin, but eventually, the mayor takes the stage and begins to speak. He tells the story of Panem.

The story, for whatever reason, has always somewhat interested me. Maybe it's because I'm a Career. Maybe it's because it's the history of where I live. Maybe it's because it's just part of who I am.

There were disasters. Tons of them. A total apocalypse like scenario. And then they died down, leaving only the Capitol and the original thirteen districts. Then there were the Dark Days. Years and years of war and rebellion. Fear. Pain. And then District Thirteen got obliterated, while the rest of the districts were left to deal with the aftermath of the war. The Treaty of Treason. The Hunger Games.

The Games- call me crazy, but there was something about them, something that just made them seem so balanced, so delicate. Like the mines around the tributes' plates.

One boy and one girl from each district. Twenty-four kids in total, from the age of twelve to eighteen. But after they got reaped during the Reaping, they weren't kids anymore. They were tributes. Just pawns in the Games.

They would get thrown in to an arena to fight to the death, with the last person alive being the winner.

That was the mindset of a Career- win. At all costs.

My thoughts were interrupted when the mayor finished telling the story and continued to read the list of District One victors. He also announced that the mentors for this year were Haven Fate and Silke Lovwood.

Our escort was introduced. Feriah Vincent. She seemed to be the Capitol average, with a ridiculous accent and several alterations, like nearly waist-length, wavy purple hair and eyes a color to match.

She gave her yearly speech, which I'd heard way too many times. But there was an addition to it at the end.

"It's time for the reading of the card!"

Are you kidding me?

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

False preparation. That's why the reading of the card wasn't done until the day of the Reaping.

Is that even legal?

"Let's pick our tributes!" Her voice rang out over the shocked crowd once again.Feriah walked over to the large glass ball that contained the girls' names and walked back to the podium.

"Kophia Lore!"

"I volunteer!" someone from the fifteen-year-old section called out, already making their way to the stage. A fifteen-year-old Career. This ought to be interesting.

"Ooh, a volunteer! And what's your name?"

"Chenille Anders," the girl said, confidence dripping from her tone. I smiled- she seemed like she'd be easy to mess with.

There were no other volunteers.

"Time to select our boy tribute!"

"Dage Yirl!"

"I volunteer!" I called. "I volunteer as tribute!"

Feriah asked for my name, and I said, "Fabian Bloom."

The mayor stepped back in to the spotlight to read the Treaty of Treason. When he was done, Chenille and I shook hands and the anthem played.

The Peacekeepers led me to a room in the Justice Building. It was very nice, I had to admit, but I can't say that I was really focusing on it.

My only visitors were Shade and Devena.

Shade came first.

"You're... you're going to win, right?" she asked.

"Right," I said.

She still seemed uncertain about her only "real" family member going in to the arena. Dad didn't count anymore.

"But promise me one thing first," I continued.

Shade waited with anticipation.

"You won't go anywhere near dad during the Games, unless you absolutely have to if there are cameras around. And you'll do what Devena says. And you won't do anything that will get you in trouble- no saying anything bad about the Capitol during interviews. If there's a part in the Games that you think will scare you, don't watch it. If something happens that you need to know about, Devena will tell you. It'll be easier that way. Keep going to school, don't take any tessera, don't volunteer. When I get back, everything will be fine." I paused. "Okay?"

"That's a lot more than just one thing, Fabian," she pointed out.

"I know. Just promise me."

"I promise."

"Good."

The Peacekeepers were signaling that the time we had was short.

"Good luck!" Shade said, throwing her arms around me.

I hugged her back. "See you soon."

Devena was next.

There was silence at first- not really tense, but not really comfortable either.

"I guess we're supposed to say goodbye," she said finally.

"Well, yeah, but I'm coming back, remember?"

"But what if you don't?"

I half-ignored, half-answered her question. "Make sure that Shade's taken care of, okay? Don't let her get stuck with dad or sent to a community home or something."

"You know I won't let that happen."

Maybe Devena couldn't understand. She was the youngest in her family, even at our age. She'd never had to worry about taking care of someone else. Sure, if something did go wrong in the arena, she would take care of Shade, I knew she would, but it wasn't the same. Shade wasn't her little sister. Shade, really, was all I had left.

Devena pulled a metal chain bracelet out of her pocket. "Here," she said simply. "Something to use as your token."

"Uh... thanks."

The Peacekeepers were making signals again.

"Well, bye," Devena said flatly. And she walked out. Just like that.

There wasn't much time left before I was escorted to the train station. There were so many cameras that I could hardly believe it! I smiled for them and waved until I felt like my arm was going to fall off. I could get used to this.

Chenille was doing the same, but with less enthusiasm.

I was almost disappointed when Feriah shooed them away and got us on to the train.

She said that dinner was in an hour and then left. Chenille disappeared. Well, fine. If she wants to be like that and pretend that the other Careers don't exist until we're in the arena, then so be it. Her loss.

I went to my quarters and washed up, changing in to some of the nice Capitol clothes.My only thought during dinner was that I wished that Shade and Devena were here. They would have loved the food. There was so, so much of it, and it was all positively amazing. If this was just the train, what was it like in the Capitol?

In a sort of sick way, I was almost looking forward to getting there.

Sleep came easier than I thought it would, which I was thankful for, since I would need to be well rested for the Games. I had the feeling that sleeping well wouldn't last long, though.

In the morning, I'm up before anyone else, except for my mentor, Haven. She's already eating breakfast, and I join her at the table. "Good morning," she said quietly.

"Mornin'!" I said, grabbing a plate and piling it with food. "Any advice for today?"

"Today is where you get everyone's favor. Make sure that your prep team and your stylist like you, first. Then get the crowd on your side. Got it?"

"Yup, makes sense to me." It did, really. As long as I didn't annoy anyone.

She was silent for the rest of the meal, eating silently before she left without another word.

Feriah came in while I was still eating to tell me that we were about to pull in to the Capitol train station. I made myself stop to get ready as fast as I can, wanting to be prepared for when we arrive.

That's what the Quell was all about, right? Preparation?

Panem had better be prepared for the most exciting Games yet.

Free Climber: Samantha Caim, District 2 Female Tribute

"Samantha!"

I groaned and rolled over to face the window. It was still early, very early. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a soft pink glow on the world that cut through the previous gray.

"Don't keep your grandfather waiting!"

"Coming!" I called back, jumping (literally) out of bed on to the hard wood floor. I walked over to my dresser and pulled out my clothes that I wore for "training". It seemed pretty pointless to me; why would I need to know how to use a sword? My grandfather claimed that it was to prepare me for the Games. Well, good luck to him trying to get me to volunteer anytime soon.

After getting dressed quickly, I threw my hair up in a quick ponytail and ran down the stairs. "Here," my mother said, handing me my backpack. I took it from her and put it on, shrugging to get used to the added weight. "You can eat when you get back, you're already running late."

"Alright!" I called back to her as I swung open the front door. I closed it carefully behind me and started to sprint over to my grandfather's house. I ran on my school's track team, so I was pretty fast and it didn't take long for me to reach his front door, though I was slightly out of breath already, having just woken up.

"You are late," he commented as I reached the front steps. He was waiting for me there on the porch.

"I am sorry; I overslept," I explained, still gasping for air.

"You have your sword?"

"Yes, grandfather." My breathing was already becoming slightly more even. I wasn't used to doing short distances like I just had as much as I should have been. I took off my backpack and dug through it before I pulled out the katana sword from my bag. It was still in its sheath and I pulled it out hesitantly, watching the early morning sunlight reflect off of the long, silver blade."I thought we could put some variety in our training today," grandfather said. "But we will still start with combat."

For as long as I could remember, which was a fairly long time, my grandfather had been training me in using a katana sword, as he was quite good at using one.

The training for that seemed to go quickly enough, although I think that was because grandfather wanted to move on to something else. I had been training for so long that the exercises just seemed easy and natural, and every move I made was so precise, so graceful...

"Let us move on." Grandfather's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Your father tells me that you rock climb. I wish to see your skills in this, so I have arranged for us to take a field trip to the center that you go to." Since we were still "training", we jogged to the center, which was nearly halfway across the district. That kind of running was more of what I was used to, but even I was still out of breath again when we finished and reached the front door.

About ten minutes later, I was ready to go. In front of me was just a rock-climbing wall; it wasn't real rock climbing. But I didn't want to argue with grandfather, so I started to climb. Like using the sword, the climbing came naturally. I knew what to do, where to put my hands and feet, clearly seeing the best way to the top.

I think I might have broken my record that day, for it wasn't long before I was ringing a small bell that was placed at the top of the wall. "Come down." Grandfather's voice was flat, unimpressed. I did as he said, carefully starting to descend until I was out of the equipment and on the ground again.

Grandfather smiled. "Well done. I believe that you have to go get ready for the Reaping. Run along."

I nodded in return and started to head back home. It was a longer walk than I had planned for, so I found myself jogging again until I reached the house. I was starving by now, and mother had already laid out breakfast, so I sat down and ate, grateful for the rest.

Then it was time to get ready for the Reaping. I bathed quickly and got out my Reaping outfit. It was a dress with a sash around the waist and above the sash was solid black, below it, midnight blue. After getting dressed, it was already time to go. I was just running late for everything that day.

We lived very close to where the Reaping would take place, so it wasn't long before I was signing in and taking my place in the eighteen-year-old section. Lily was waiting for me, but Daniel was already in his place across from us in the section for the boys. He still waved as I took my place though.

"Did you still have training today?" Lily asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Grandfather insisted on it."

"That's ridiculous," she commented. "It's Reaping Day!"

"Well, what did you do?" I asked.

"Nothing, really. I almost overslept completely; Daniel ended up waking me when he knocked on the front door to ask me if I was ready!"

"Your parents didn't wake you?"

"No, they almost overslept, too."

I couldn't help but be slightly jealous. Lily didn't have to train and her parents didn't care like mine did. Daniel's parents were the same way as Lily's were, though they were a little more like mine. Still not as bad, though. At least they let him have a life! He was actually dating Lily, and had been since we were in ninth grade.

"Well, at least you're here now."

"Unfortunately," Lily mumbled in response.

She's probably lucky that no one from the Capitol heard that.

The mayor began to speak, telling the story of Panem. It's a long story, and he was probably only about a quarter way done when I thought I was going to snap and tell him that we had all heard it tons of times before and no one cared. But I didn't. Not to say that I wasn't still extremely thankful when he was done, even though I had tuned it out.

He started to read the list of past District Two victors, which was quite a long list. He also announced that the mentors for this year were Eliena Shrall and Ava James. Oh, great. Ava ignored the tributes, and Eliena terrified me. She had countless allies during her Games, making them trust her and then stabbing them in the middle of the night, stealing their supplies, and taking off before dawn came. That was one of my huge fears if I was ever to go in to the arena, being betrayed by my allies. But I wouldn't go in to the arena. Why would I?

Then he turned the microphone over to Diamond Daize, our escort. She was famous for wearing ridiculously tall heels because she was so short. She still seemed tiny compared to most of the mentors, and it was ridiculous seeing her paired with them, especially during interviews and such.

She gave her annual speech and then announced, "Now, we have a special surprise for everyone! It's time for the reading of the card!"

The reading of the card? That meant it was a Quarter Quell year. But it couldn't be, could it? Wasn't this the four-hundred-fifth Games? Whatever it was, it meant that this year's District Two tributes were really done for.

Diamond began to read.

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

Now I really felt bad for whoever's going this year, from our district or not.

Diamond moved over to the girls' Reaping ball and pulled out a slip of paper.

"Samantha Caim!"

What? That was just another girl, maybe I'd seen her in school before, and maybe she was in my math class...

But then why was I moving towards the stage? Lily nudged me slightly, and I moved faster until I reached the stage.

"Any volunteers?"

Silence. Nobody would volunteer for me, not with those mentors, not on a Quarter Quell year.

"Time to pick our male tribute!"

"Troy Par-"

"I volunteer!" someone yelled. "I volunteer!" The boy from the eighteen-year-old section made his way to the stage.

"And what might your name be?"

"Marco Chase." His voice was confident, not nervous or uncertain at all, and I wondered how he pulled it off.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, which I also tuned out, Marco and I shook hands, and the anthem played.

We were led in to separate rooms in the Justice Building. The room was easily the fanciest I'd ever seen, even with all of the parties I'd been to. The decorations were almost overdone in a typical, Capitol-like way.

My visitors started to come. Mother and father were first, naturally. "We always prepared you for this," mother said, her voice shaking. "I'd always hoped that it would never happen, but... here we are."

"You just do your best," father added. "You will be fine. Stay with your allies and make sure that you get a sword from the Cornucopia."

Advice. Instructions. In the last moments I may ever see my parents again, they were telling me what to do.

"I will. I promise," I said.

"We love you," mother said. "You'll be great."

"I love you, too."

They left without another word, and almost immediately afterwards, Lily and Daniel both came in.

"You have to win," Lily choked out weakly. "You.. you can win, right? You know how to fight."

"Of course," I said, trying to sound confident, though my words came out almost as weak as hers.

"She'll be fine," Daniel said to Lily reassuringly.

"I'll win," I promised. "Really." I probably wouldn't. I couldn't win. They knew that. My parents knew that. We all knew that I wasn't coming home.

"You're a Career," Daniel pointed out. "You have allies already. You're already ahead of the game."

"I'm not a Career!" I blurted out. "I've been trained by my grandfather. These other kids, they learned about twenty different ways to kill you with a knife before they could even walk!" Okay, so it was a slight exaggeration. It probably wasn't by much.

"Yeah, and you probably know about a hundred different ways to block their attacks with a sword. You're faster than they are. You can climb; how many Careers can do that?"

He had a point, but I didn't want to hear it.

"We'll... we'll see you... again...when... when you get back," Lily stammered.

I nodded, twirling my bracelet around my wrist. I supposed it was my district token now."Good luck," Daniel said, and they both walked out of the room.

Grandfather was my last visitor. "Remember what you have learned," he advised. "You are a bright, young girl, you have a good chance."

"But... but what if..."

"What if you win?" he finished, knowing that it wasn't what I was going to say. "You have to look at it positively."

And with that, he left.

I was taken to the train station shortly afterwards. I tried to seem happy and light-hearted for the cameras, just smiling really. Marco just stood there blankly.

Our escort seemed unimpressed and tried to get us on the train as soon as possible. I decided to check out my quarters on the train. They were really, really even more extravagant than the room in the Justice Building. I took a long shower, enjoying the hot, flowing water for a change. I finally forced myself out, doing my hair again and changing in to some of the clothes that the Capitol had provided.

To be honest, I didn't really pay attention to the train ride. I remember being highly impressed by what the Capitol had to offer us before they forced us to fight to the death. But, other than that, it just seemed to be a huge blur, especially considering the fact that I didn't sleep, until we reached the Capitol train station.

The train doors flew open, and the city air rushed over us, as if to say, "Welcome to the Capitol. Welcome to the Games."

Fierce Protector: Marco Chase, District 2 Male Tribute

"Time to get up!"

I opened my eyes, and the District Two community home came in to my view.

"Breakfast is in ten minutes!"

I didn't know why they insisted on waking us with so little warning.

"There is no excuse for being late!"

I got ready as quickly as I could, and, not particularly having anything nice to wear to the Reaping, I just threw on what I usually wore.

Even moving as quickly as I could, I was still almost late to breakfast and just managed to sit down next to my best friend, Damon, before they were ordering everyone to get in line to get breakfast.

I was last in line, out of everyone. Great.

One of the directors started to walk over to me. What did I do now? I couldn't remember doing anything that would make them want to approach me, for once.

"We need your assistance," she said.

"With what?" I couldn't help but be somewhat annoyed; I mean, I was already last in line and had almost been late.

"Your sister. She refuses to come down to breakfast."

"Why?"

The director shrugged, and I reluctantly followed her up to the dorm where my little sister, Fade, was. "I'll wait for you two downstairs," the director said, opening the door to the room.

I walked in. "Fade! What is it now?"

"I don't want to go to the Reaping!"

"Well, too bad," I said. "You have to! Do you feel like getting arrested?"

I didn't mean for it to come out as rough as it did. I just didn't want her to get in trouble again.

"No," she mumbled.

"Well, then, come on!"

She did come with me, eventually. No matter how annoying she could be, she still looked up to me, even if she wouldn't admit it.

Breakfast was almost over by the time we got down there. We managed to get some of the last food that there was, and I sat down next to Damon again. "More sister troubles?" he asked tauntingly.

I shrugged, and that just about set the tone for the rest of the non-existent conversation.It was time to go before I was even halfway done eating. Well, this day just kept getting better and better, didn't it?

The directors walked us all to the Reaping like we were little kids. Well, some of us were, and some of us probably needed to be treated like them, like Fade. But not me. It wouldn't be a good image on camera when I volunteered.

Yes, I was going to volunteer. Why? So that Fade and I could get out of this stupid community home already! Everyone else thought that I was crazy, volunteering to go in with only a one in twenty-four chance of coming out again. I just knew that I had to. There wasn't any other good option that I could find.

I signed in and walked over to the eighteen-year-old section.

The mayor began to speak shortly, as we were almost right on time.

He told the story of Panem. I couldn't help but actually listen to some of it, as if it would contain some sort of hint of how to be a victor. It didn't, that I could find, of course, but listening to him drone on and on was still a welcome distracting.

Also long, there was the reading of the list of past victors, along with the announcement that Ava James and Eliena Shrall will be mentoring for this year. They weren't the best mentors that I could hope for...

Diamond Daize, the almost stereotypical, idiotic, Capitol escort for our district, took the stage. She gave her speech about what a joy it was to be here. I'm telling you, if she had smiled one more time during her speech, I would've strangled her.

But her next words actually caught my attention. "Now, we have a special surprise for everyone! It's time for the reading of the card!"

What? It isn't a Quell year, no one wants to volunteer on a Quell year...

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released

from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

False preparation. Not being prepared. That's exactly what I was. Unprepared.

She called out the first name.

"Samantha Caim!"

A girl started to make her way towards the stage. She had to be about my age, but she looked positively terrified. I thought I remembered hearing about her setting this rock-climbing record or something...

"Any volunteers?"

Silence, just like I expected. No one wanted to volunteer for the Quarter Quell.

"Time to pick our male tribute!"

"Troy Par-"

"I volunteer!" I yelled. "I volunteer!" I was already starting to make my way towards the stage.

"And what might your name be?"

"Marco Chase."

I was relieved to hear that I sounded confident and certain.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, which I also paid some attention to, again, listening for hints, especially with the Quarter Quell.

He finished though, and I found none. Samantha and I shook hands, and the anthem played.

We were taken to our rooms in the Justice Building.

I was unimpressed by the... Capitolness of the room. Yes, Capitolness. I just made up my own word. Deal with it.

Fade was, as expected, my first visitor.

"You'd better win."

"No duh," I said.

"Just come home. For me. Please?"

"I will." I tried to sound reassuring, recognizing that Fade was different than she had been this morning, realizing that there was a possibility that I could not come home.

Fade left. I thought that was the shortest conversation we had ever had.

Damon was next. He still seemed to be in a foul mood, for whatever reason.

"Hey," he said casually.

"Hey."

"You have to win, you know," he pointed out.

For the second time that day, I said, "No duh."

"You're sister would kill you if you didn't."

"That would be extremely redundant."

"She wouldn't care. And I would help her."

"Good to know."

"Well?" I asked. "Any last words of wisdom?"

"Win."

And then Damon left. Forever, probably. Just like that.

I didn't have any other visitors, and the time seemed to drag out until the Peacekeepers came for me. It just kept dragging out when we reached the train station. Samantha smiled for the cameras. I didn't see the point, so I just sort of stood there awkwardly until our escort apparently just couldn't take it anymore and got us inside the train. I was grateful.

The train ride, for me, was much too long. It's not like I was looking forward to getting to the Capitol, but at least there, I could get away from my mentor for a few minutes. Ava, who usually didn't pay attention to tributes, always seemed to have something to argue about with me. Not Samantha as much, she didn't even bother paying any attention to her. But with me, Ava just seemed to want to argue about everything. It was starting to get ridiculous.

We pulled in to the Capitol station the next morning.

There were endless crowds waiting for us.

Their cheers echoed through the station. "District Two! District Two!"

Maybe they would sponsor me.

Maybe I had a real chance of going home.

Shy Beauty: Callia Marshan, District 3 Female Tribute

When I woke up on Reaping Day, it was still very early in the morning. I looked out the window from my bed, watching the sun rise over the distant mountains, glowing softly. It was a very beautiful scene, but I forced myself out of bed. No time to savor it. I actually took the time to make my bed before getting dressed, putting my hair up in a ponytail and getting on my glasses. Mother would be furious when I got downstairs. She said that I could have looked so beautiful, with my blonde hair and blue eyes, but that I always downplayed it. I didn't care. She could think whatever she wanted.

I walked down the stairs quietly. Father and my sister, Sathia, were still asleep. Typical. Mother was already awake, though, and in the kitchen. "Good morning," I said quietly.

She spun around from her position at the stove. "You are changing before the Reaping, right?"

I didn't feel like arguing. Reaping Day was one of the few days each year where I would let her "dress me up". "Yes, mother."

"Good." She seemed pleased with herself, and she went back to cooking. "Breakfast will be ready soon. You should go wake your father and sister."

"Alright." I went back up the stairs to wake them. Father was actually already awake, just in his room at the desk, looking over a book about plants. They were his real passion, and mine too. "Mother says that breakfast will be ready soon," I told him, looking at the book over his shoulder.

"How much time?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "But, just be ready, I suppose."

"Okay, then," he said, closing the book. "I think I'll head downstairs, in that case. Is your sister up?"

I shook my head. "I was going to go wake her next."

With that said, I left the room to go find her. She was still fast asleep. "Sathia," I whispered, shaking her shoulder. "Mother said that it's time to get up."

She groaned. "The sun's barely up! And it's Reaping Day; aren't we supposed to be able to sleep in?"

I didn't answer her question, just walked out of the room and left her to get ready. I ended up going back downstairs, where breakfast was just about done. I sat down at the table just as mother finished filling everyone's plates. "We won't see your aunt and uncle or Vince until the Reaping," she said. "They've been very busy lately."

It was understandable. My uncle was the mayor of District Three, after all.

Breakfast went by in a blur, with Sathia coming downstairs about halfway through, much to mother's dislike. Sathia was already dressed and ready to go for the Reaping.

After breakfast, mother left father and Sathia to clean up and took me back upstairs to help me get ready. She took my hair out of its ponytail and brushed it out while I resisted the urge to tell her that I could've done that myself, if I wanted to. I was actually able to convince her to let me keep my glasses on instead of wearing the contacts that she would've preferred.

Finally, she just left me to change in to the dress that she picked out, which was extremely short on me (on purpose, I guess), and a light blue that matched my eyes. I liked the color, but that was just about the only thing about it that I liked.

By the time I was done getting ready, it was time to go to the Reaping.

Once we arrived, I signed in and took my place in the sixteen-year-old section. Mother went to say hello to Uncle Gage before he had to begin the ceremony. But I guess they didn't get to talk for long, because the Reaping was about to begin.

Uncle Gage told the story of Panem. He made it sound a bit more interesting than some of the mayors that I'd heard about, and, call me a nerd, but I was actually a bit interested in the history, so I managed to stay awake and listen. It wouldn't have been good if I'd fallen asleep! That would've attracted so much attention to myself... how embarrassing.

Then he read the past list of District Three victors. The list isn't too long, as we weren't a Career district, but lately we had had a few victors, since one of our mentors, Alya Vaden, (who I found out was actually mentoring for this year, along with Nole Wakeman), had a bit of a good luck streak with tributes and managed to get them quite far in to the Games, if not making them the victors.

After that, our escort, Collon Lefray, was introduced. He made his speech, mostly talking about what a great district he thought District Three was, and then he said, "This year is going to be a particularly exciting year, I bet! It's time for the reading of the card!"

I was confused; I thought that the Quarter Quell was only every twenty-five years.

But Collon began to read:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

Wow. False preparation. Well, that sure worked on me, at least.

"Let's pick our first tribute!" he called out, and he walked over to the girls' Reaping ball. Even from that distance, I could see each individual slip of paper, each with a name on it.

"Callia Marshan!"

Wait a second... Callia Marshan... that was... that was me.

I started to walk to the stage, suddenly feeling even more self-conscious about the combination of my short dress and height. Everyone was watching me... oh, gosh. Didn't they ever learn that it's not polite to stare at people?

I willed the dress to be longer mentally, but, alas, no miracles occurred. My mother probably picked it out to show the little bit of muscle I have from running so often, but I wished desperately that she had picked out something else now.

I finally reached the stage after what seemed like an eternity.

Collon was already picking the boy's name, as there were no volunteers.

"Newcomb Birambau!"

A scrawny boy with almost frighteningly bright green eyes started to make his way to the stage. No one volunteered for him, either.

Uncle Gage (it just feels wrong to call him "the mayor") read the Treaty of Treason, and then gestured for Newcomb and I to shake hands. I finally really looked at Uncle Gage for the first time since my name had been chosen, and noted the pain in his eyes.

Newcomb's grip was weak and shaky, and I could tell that he would need all the luck he could get in the arena.

The anthem played, and we were escorted to the Justice Building.

The room I was in very elegant, I noted, everything matched perfectly and was arranged and decorated like it was in the middle of the Capitol.

My first visitors were my mother, my father, and Sathia. They were all teary-eyed, and the conversation just seemed to drag out and be awkward. They tried to give me advice for the arena, my father told me to remember what I'd learned about plants, my mother told me to listen to my stylist, and my sister told me to stay a good runner. Like I was going to lose my running skills before I got in the arena.

My mother also gave me a bracelet to wear as my district token. Of course, what she was concerned with when I might die. My district token.

"Alright, well, we love you," my mother said as we all hugged one last time. "Good luck." And then my family left. I'll probably never see them again.

Uncle Gage, Aunt Hally, and my cousin, Vince, were my next round. Vince and I were friends, I guessed, but only because we' were cousins, so we were stuck together at all of the family gatherings. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't have even be able to talk to him. He was "that boy" that all of the girls went after and all of the guys wanted to hang out with. The utter opposite of me.

"Hey, look on the bright side!" Uncle Gage said. "You're the first District Three tribute to be visited by the mayor after the Reaping!"

I actually managed to smile. "Of course," I said.

Aunt Hally and I didn't get along all that well, so she was mostly just silent. Vince said, "Well, no bringing disgrace to the family name, now, Callia. No losing."

"That's right," Uncle Gage joked. "Do you know what would happen to my reputation if you didn't come home?"

The Peacekeepers were signaling that it was time for them to go. Already?

"Alrighty then. Good luck, kiddo," Uncle Gage said, and he walked out, followed by Aunt Hally, who still didn't even bother to say anything to me.

Only Vince was honest with me. "Bye, Callia," he said as he walked out with his parents. So he knew what I did. That I wasn't coming back.

My friend Willow was next.

After a few moments of pointless conversation, she said, "Of course you'll win. You have to."

"Maybe I will," I said quietly. "I... I can try."

"You'll do better than 'try'; you'll win. For District Three."

It was almost time for her to go. She gave me a quick hug and said, "I'll see you again." And then she left.

It wasn't long before the Peacekeepers came to get me and take me to the train station. It was horrible; Newcomb and I both sort of just stood there awkwardly until Collon took pity on us and got us in to the train. I was never so glad to be alone again in my whole life.

The train ride was a small break, where I could just lay around and look out the window. But it didn't last long. We pulled in to the Capitol station, and just as we did, I spotted a huge

banner hanging over the edge of a building. It read:

"Let the 405th Hunger Games begin!"

Intelligent Loner: Newcomb Birambau, District 3 Male Tribute

"Newcomb, it's time to get ready for the Reaping!"

I rolled over and looked at the clock. I had one hour until we had to leave. Sixty minutes. Three thousand, six hundred seconds.

Three thousand, five hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven...

I got out of bed slowly and walked over to the dresser to start getting ready. I put on the same outfit that I wear almost every day, a brown suit jacket with dark slacks, along with the badge that I was given when I started working at the factory.

Yes, I worked at the factory in District Three. I'd been out of school for about a year now, even though I'm "only" seventeen, and I'd been interviewed by people from the Capitol about going to work there. They said that we would be in touch once they conferred with officials back in the Capitol.

Once I'm dressed, I wash up quickly and then go down the hall, where mom and dad are waiting for me. "Good morning," my mom greeted as I walked in to the kitchen.

"'Mornin! What's for breakfast?"

"Toast," dad said. I hadn't really asked him, but I figured that I still got the answer, so that was alright.

"How's that report for the boss coming?" mom asked.

"Just great," I answered. "I'm almost done with it, but I just need to add in a bit more about the power source that feeds in to the generator and..." I noticed dad's slightly disapproving look and concluded, "And then I'm done."

Dad never was in to the sort of things that interest me. He was more of a "let's get outside and play some ball" sort of guy.

We all sat down for breakfast, where there was pretty much small talk to stay off of the topic of the Reaping. I didn't see the point of avoiding it, because not talking about it didn't mean that it didn't exist, no matter what we wanted.

Afterwards, it was just about time to go to the Reaping, but dad insisted that it was too early. "Why are you so eager to leave?" he asked. "It's not like you have any friends to go talk to."

He was right, of course, a lot of my peers didn't share my interests, so I didn't really have friends. But that was alright with me.

"Well, we're not doing anything very constructive here, so it would be a better use of our

time to start leaving for the Reaping," I pointed out.

In the end, mom took my side and dad gave up arguing, so we left for the Reaping.The walk was mostly in silence. When we got there, I signed in and made my way over to the seventeen-year-old section.

Because it had taken a while to convince dad that it was time to go, it wasn't long before our mayor, Mayor Perrola, started the ceremony.

He told the story of Panem, and I really tried my hardest to listen, but it was hard because I'd heard it so many times. I was finally able to concentrate when he got to reading the list of past victors, and specifically announcing that this year's mentors were going to be Alya Vaden and Nole Wakeman.

Our escort was introduced, Collon Lefray. He gave a speech about how happy he was to be there, and I have to admit, the guy sounded pretty enthusiastic, like me when I talked about the factory.

"This year is going to be a particularly exciting year, I bet! It's time for the reading of the card!"

But that was impossible; it went against the laws of Panem! It was not a Quarter Quell year!

He began to read:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

It certainly did seem like an odd Quarter Quell, but, who am I to question the Capitol?

"Let's pick our first tribute!"

"Callia Marshan!"

Callia Marshan... I scanned through my mental records. Wasn't she the mayor's niece? One look at the mayor's expression confirmed this. Poor girl, she seemed intelligent enough, and still, no one volunteered for her.

"Newcomb Birambau!"

Wait a second... that was me! I was Newcomb Birambau! But that was statistically unlikely... that I had been called... I only had six slips out of thousands, after all. Nevertheless, I started to make my way to the stage, trying to look confident. I thought I was failing at that,

though, because I felt like I was going to positively collapse.

Once I finally reached the stage, Mayor Perrola read the Treaty of Treason, which I didn't manage to concentrate on at all! I was so nervous... what would happen in the arena? Maybe I could find a way to use what I've learned from the factory to help me...

The mayor was gesturing for us to shake hands, and I did so. Callia was stronger than she looked, her grip was strong and firm, especially compared to mine. If she was "just" the other District Three tribute, what were the Careers like?

The anthem played, and I let the music calm my thoughts slightly before we were taken to the Justice Building.

My mom and dad were my only visitors.

"You're... you're smart," mom said shakily. "You... you could win... and... and come home."

"Of course he's coming home," dad said. "Right, buddy?"

"Right," I said quietly. "I... I will... come home."

"You can use what you've learned," mom pointed out. "Get yourself some allies, maybe. Impress the Gamemakers. Get your support team on your side."

I nodded.

"Just be yourself. The crowd will love it," dad said.

I wasn't so sure. If I couldn't even make friends here in the district, how was I supposed to win over rich, important, Capitol sponsors?

The Peacekeepers were signaling that it was time to go.

"We love you," mom said, giving me a hug.

Dad gave me one, too, and then the Peacekeepers were telling them that they had to leave.

It was a long wait, waiting for them to bring me to the train station. I examined the room.There were four paintings and four pieces of furniture. The ceiling was made of twenty ceiling tiles. Each wall was exactly fourteen feet long and ten feet tall.

Those were the facts that I was able to recite by the time they came for me.

The car ride was unbelievably fast; I barely got to enjoy it.

Callia and I weren't the best in front of the cameras. It was all a very awkward, clumsy experience, if you asked me, before we were whisked on to the train.

The train ride was actually long enough for me to savor it. The food was delicious, and there was more of it in one meal than I'd seen in my entire life. Our quarters had hot, running water. The closet could pick out your clothes for you. I had some fun taking apart the control for it and putting it back together again, I'll admit. That was how I kept myself entertained on the train. The Capitol gadgets provided a nice, fresh challenge. Like a puzzle.

We pulled in to the Capitol train station, and the crowds were all there, cheering and welcoming us.

To the Capitol.

To the Games.

To the Quell.

To our future.

Quiet Thinker: Ionia Kai, District 4 Female Tribute

The waves lapped peacefully against the golden sand on the shore of District Four. I walked just along the edge of the water in the darkness, watching the waves. I was thinking about the Reaping, which would take place later that day. It was different, this year, for me, because I was going to volunteer. I had promised my dad I would, and, even though he had died in a boating accident a few years back, I intended to keep that promise.

His death had changed our family. It was just my mother, my little sister, Ianthe, and me, now. Ianthe had hated the sea ever since the accident, and even though I wasn't scared of the water, I was terrified of the wind. It was, in my opinion, what had caused the accident in the first place.

Thinking of my dad, I reached up and adjusted the fish earrings that he had given me for my tenth birthday. I always wore them, and they would be my token in the arena.

I just closed my eyes as I walked, knowing the beach well enough that I didn't have to focus and let whatever thoughts I had come to me.

Eventually, the thinking turned in to singing. My voice was quiet at first, but it started to get slightly louder, just loud enough that I could hear it distinctly over the waves.

I stayed on the beach until the sun started to rise. It peaked over the horizon, glowing orange and reflecting its light off of the water. I figured that I should be getting home before my mother got worried.

It wasn't a long walk back to our house, and I reached it within a few minutes. By now, mother and Ianthe were awake. "Good morning," I said as I walked in.

"'Mornin, Ionia!"

"Should I make breakfast?" I asked. It was more of an offer than a question.

"That sounds like a lovely idea," mother said. "Thank you."

I walked in to the kitchen and started to prepare breakfast, which I decided would be some of the fish that I had caught recently with some of District Four's classic bread, which was tinged with the green of seaweed. It didn't take long to prepare, since I'd done it so many times before, and we were all eating breakfast shortly.

Afterwards, I didn't have to prepare for the Reaping, since I've never been the type to bother with makeup and such. Mother and Ianthe did, though, so I waited for them by the door, and when they were ready, we set out for the Reaping.

We signed in and took our places. I went to the front section for the girls where all of the other eighteen-year-olds were.

The mayor took the stage and began to speak, telling the story of Panem. I couldn't really tell you what she said, because I wasn't listening. I was focused on what was to come.

Then she read the list of past District Four victors, and introduced this year's mentors: Ryce Collins and Julius Higgins. Well, they weren't exactly the "best" mentors that I could have asked for, but I wasn't going to complain.

Then our escort was introduced. Her name was Esther Bauble, and she was dressed in her usually attire of an outfit that was entirely the color of gold. She gave her annual speech, and then said, "I have a special announcement for everyone! It's time for the reading of the card!''

Wait... what?

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

I usually felt one step ahead of the game, but at that moment, I felt like I'd been tricked. Deceived. Manipulated. The quell... it just wasn't right!

"Let's switch things up even more and pick our male tribute first!"

Her enthusiasm was sickening, even to me, a Career.

"Ted Hal-"

"I volunteer! I volunteer!" She didn't even get to finish reading the name when a boy from the eighteen-year-old section adjacent to me lunges forward. "I volunteer!"

I resisted the urge to say that we understood that, he didn't have to keep repeating it.

"No!" There was a piercing scream from the section behind me for the seventeen-year-old girls. One of the girls raced forwards towards him. "You can't volunteer! You can't risk your life for the Games!"

Our escort was just standing there, looking shocked. The boy ignored her completely, making his way towards the stage.

Who was this girl? His sister or something?

The Peacekeepers were just about on her now, restraining her and practically dragging her out of the square. I couldn't imagine that she had anything good waiting for her.

"Do you know who that was?" our escort asked the volunteer.

"Arbenia," he said, and paused before adding, "My girlfriend."

"Oh, I see," Esther said. "Well, what's your name?"

"Arsin Locke, future victor of the four-hundred-fifth Hunger Games."

I hated my district partner already.

"Let's continue with the Reaping!"

"Sophie Clark!"

"I volunteer!" I called out, trying to sound more civilized than Arsin had.

I reached the stage. "And what's your name?"

"Ionia Kai."

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, then. When she was done, Arsin and I shook hands, and the anthem played.

We were escorted to the Justice Building shortly afterwards.

My mother and sister were first.

"At least you looked like you had some control over yourself," mother commented. "Unlike that boy... and his girlfriend."

"I'm glad about that," I replied.

"Ionia, you have to win," Ianthe said. "For dad. And for us."

"And just so that awful boy doesn't-"

"Mother." I cut her off, not wanting her to bad-mouth people that she didn't even know, even if I didn't really like them, either.

"And I will; win, I mean," I continued.

"Good," Ianthe said. "Promise? Promise you'll come back?"

"I promise." Dad had made us that same promise when he went out on that fishing trip... and he never came home. I wasn't going to put our family through that again. I would win.

The Peacekeepers were signaling that our time was almost up. I gave my mother and little sister each a quick hug. "I love you, both of you. I'll come home."

"I love you, too," mother said.

They were both escorted out.

I only had one other visitor. Mari.

She was technically my best friend, though, sometimes, I wondered just how many brain cells she had. Let's just say that she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, even if she was a year older than me.

"Hey, Ionia," she said.

"Hey."

"So... you actually volunteered. I didn't think you would."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just that... you volunteered for your dad, and he's dead. I wasn't sure if you'd keep your promise to him."

"Of course I would." Something about it angered me. Was she really implying that she thought I'd disappoint my family?

"Well, I just wanted to come to 'say goodbye'."

"But I'll come back."

"Sure, you will. Bye, Ionia."

Mari left.

The conversation just felt so, so wrong.

The Peacekeepers took me out of the elegant room to the train station. I managed to smile and even wave a bit for the cameras. Arsin glared at them. They mainly focused on me. Smart move on their part.

It was over soon enough, and Esther got us on to the train. I noticed that once the cameras were out of the way, Arsin seemed less angry and more... miserable. It almost made you feel sorry for him.

The train ride went by in a blur. I already missed the district. My mother, Ianthe, Mari, the ocean...

It was all now replaced by the shining city in front of us: the Capitol.

I just hoped I was ready for it.

Arrogant Career: Arsin Locke, District 4 Male Tribute

For once, training just dragged.

It was like the day before a big test that was made in the Capitol at school. All of the teachers would completely flip out and try to teach you everything that would be on it, starting the second that they found out that it was near until it was in your hand.

Same concept here, really.

The Reaping was today, so all of the trainers for the Careers were trying to go over everything in one day.

So I was not surprised when the time for training ended and we were still going.

I waited for it to be over, lacking my usual "enthusiasm", as some of the trainers put it.

"Let's do a quick cool down and then you all can go!" one of them called.

I guess his definition of a "cool down" was more running. I was one of the first ones to finish, mostly because I just wanted to leave, for once. We were already running late, and while I wasn't so concerned with being on time for the Reaping just to be on time, I wasn't at all eager to have to fight off some of the Peacekeepers just to get in.

So I went home.

Dad was waiting for me. "What happened? Usually you end almost an hour before this."

"Everyone was all freaked out over the Reaping."

"They should be."

I cut off the conversation by going upstairs to start to get ready to go. I threw on a button-up, black shirt with a maroon shirt underneath, and a pair of black jeans. Might as well look okay when I volunteer. I also add what will soon be my district token, a simple ring that belonged to mom.

I went back downstairs, realizing that I hadn't eaten breakfast before I went to training. "Do we have any food?" I called over to dad.

"Yup. You know where the kitchen is."

Of course. I went to see what we had and ended up just having cereal. Nothing too fancy.I really couldn't think of anything better to do, so I told my dad that I was going to head out to the Reaping early.

It seemed to be fine with him, so I left.

They were setting up everything for the Reaping when I got there-it was that early.Because of their false preparation, I had to wait outside. But it didn't stop me from signing in while I waited.

I had to admit that it did feel pretty cool to be the first person to show up to the Reaping.

They finally finished setting up; by that time, I wasn't the only person who was waiting. I took my place in the eighteen-year-old section, which was all the way in the front, right by the stage.

Finally, the Reaping started after what seemed like forever.

Then the mayor began to tell the story of Panem. Honestly, I wasn't listening. She didn't seem any brighter than our escort from the Capitol.

She read the list of victors, which was where I started to pay a bit more attention, just because I wanted to know whom my mentor was. The two mentors for the year were Ryce Collins and Julius Higgins. Oh, great. Neither of them were particularly good mentors.

Our escort, Esther, was introduced then, and she gave her annual speech in a ridiculously high-pitched Capitol accent. I just couldn't stand to listen to her talk, until she said, "I have a special announcement for everyone! It's time for the reading of the card!''

Huh?

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

A Quarter Quell. Just my luck, too.

And it's not like I could wait until next year, since I was eighteen. It was a now or never sort of deal.

Wasn't I just thinking about false preparation?

"Let's switch things up even more and pick our male tribute first!"

Just what we needed. More mix-ups.

"Ted Hal-"

"I volunteer!" I yelled. "I volunteer! I volunteer!" Looking back on it, I didn't know why I felt the need to repeat myself so many times. But I did, and that's that.

"No!" There was a piercing scream from the seventeen-year-old female section.

I knew that voice.

It was Arbenia's.

She raced forwards.

"You can't volunteer! You can't risk your life for the Games!"

I'd known Arbenia for a long time. We'd been going out officially for almost three years. And in that whole time, I'd never, ever, heard that much desperation in her voice.

She was more like me.

A Career.

I tried to block it out and just kept walking towards the stage, finally reaching it with a slight sigh of relief.

But even I was scared for her when the Peacekeepers practically dragged her off.

Arbenia practically just almost got herself killed.

"Do you know who that was?" Esther asked.

"Arbenia," I said, and paused before adding, "My girlfriend."

"Oh, I see," Esther said. "Well, what's your name?"

"Arsin Locke, future victor of the four-hundred-fifth Hunger Games." I couldn't help myself with adding that.

"Let's continue with the Reaping!"

"Sophie Clark!"

"I volunteer!" a girl called out. Her voice sounded restrained and quieter than most Careers'.

She reached the stage.

"And what's your name?"

"Ionia Kai."

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, which I also blocked out, still thinking of Arbenia. I almost tried not to, not wanting to know what could happen. When she was done, I shook hands with Ionia and the anthem played.

We were escorted to the Justice Building just a few minutes later.

My only visitor was my dad.

I noticed that Arbenia never came.

I didn't want to know where she was.

Dad, however, seemed confident, not even mentioning the events of the Reaping. "I'm telling you, you're already probably a crowd favorite."

"Oh, yeah; sure, dad." I tried to not sound overly sarcastic. But that attempt was a fail.

"You'll see." His voice had become more gruff and distant now. "Better you than that Ionia girl. She didn't seem to be much of a Career."

"Good point," I said. "But some of the stupid sponsors just love that."

"Not in a Career, they don't."

"If they do, she'll make a good ally."

"She's already technically a Career. And so are you," dad said. "You're both district partners."

The Peacekeepers started to motion for him to leave. Already. And we spent most of the time talking about my district partner.

"Well, I'll see you soon." Dad left the room, and I was left by myself until the Peacekeepers came to get me.

They took me to the train station, where I just glared at the reporters. Sure enough, they seemed to like Ionia.

Esther eventually got us on to the train and I just felt even worse about what had happened at the Reaping.

That just about set the mood for the rest of the train ride.

I was almost relieved when I finally spotted a bright patch of lights up ahead.

The Capitol.

Strong Contestant: Vitality Falon, District 5 Female Tribute

Time to get ready for the Reaping, I told myself mentally.

Our Reaping was one of the later ones-it took place at about two o'clock in the afternoon. Some of the districts had their Reaping at a time that would be just way too early for me.

I walked over to my dresser. It had been a larger birthday present from my dad when I turned seventeen. He was always doing things like that, coming up with nice surprises. And we certainly had the money for him to do so. My mom was a victor, after all, so we were some of the richest people in the district.

I stopped and examined the dark, smooth wood that turned in to drawers. Above it, still attached, was a large mirror that reflected the room, and myself, perfectly.

My Reaping outfit was stored by itself in the top drawer. I pulled it out gently, much more gently than I normally would've. The main part was an elegant golden dress. I laid it out on top of the dresser and went to retrieve the shoes-tall, black heels.

After I got dressed, I examined it in the mirror. I left my dark brown hair loose the way it was, but still modified the outfit by adding a locket to it.

"Vitality!"

I heard my dad calling me from downstairs.

"Coming!"

I ran down the steps, (well, as fast as you can run while wearing heels), until I reached the main room.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Mom was there, too, glaring at the wall. She hated the Games. More than anything. It was probably because she had gone through them, herself. She had barely mentored anyone since she became a victor, convincing the other victors to volunteer to mentor the tributes each year. But she still considered herself to be just a bit above the rest of us, winning at such a young age of fourteen.

"Good." Mom's voice, not dad's. Flat, non-praising.

"Shall we head out, then?" Dad, this time.

"Guess so."

We all walked to the central part of town where the Reaping would take place. It didn't take long to sign in, and mom went to her place on the stage while dad joined the crowd. I headed over to the seventeen-year-old section.

It wasn't long before the Reaping began.

The mayor told the history of Panem. I couldn't say that I listened much.

He read the list of past victors, but the only names I really picked out were mom's and the two mentors for this year's: Aquifer Vertex and Faden Doom. I've heard good things about Aquifer, even mom seems to think relatively positively of her, but Faden... I've heard rumors of him attacking his tributes.

Then the mayor introduced our escort. Our escort didn't seem very promising. She seems to forget about the tributes a lot once you get past the Reaping. Laureellee Jaames, (the escort), had gold hair with black streaks in it, a typical, Capitolistic alteration.

She gave her speech, which I actually managed to listen to part of, just so I could laugh at it later. "Oh, I'm just so happy to be here!" Give me a break.

"I actually have an announcement for this year!" she called out, as if this was a ridiculous notion. "It's time for the reading of the card!"

Say what?

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

Oh, excellent.

"Let's get some tributes!"

Before I was even conscious of what she was saying, I heard, "Vitality Falon!"

You could hear a collective gasp in the square. Personally, not a lot of people know me, but everyone knows that I'm the daughter of a victor.

I stood.

Right foot, left foot. Right, left, right, left.

My dad wanted me in the Games.

Right, left, right, left.

My mom didn't.

Right, left, right, left.

I reached the stage.

Laureellee Jaames didn't seem to realize who I was or what was going on. She hadn't been my mother's escort. Did she really not recognize me? At least the last name?

Even with that knowledge, no one volunteered.

She was already calling the name of the male tribute.

"Replican Tally!"

The name rang a bell, somewhere in my head. I remembered that his dad was a Peacekeeper in the district, and not a particularly nice one. His mom, who I only recognized from the last name, was apparently a high-ranking scientist. I thought I'd heard of both of his parents before.

He made his way to the stage.

No volunteers for him, either.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, (oh, great, another thing to tune out), and then he gestured for me and Replican to shake hands. We did so, just as the anthem began to play. Then we were taken to the Justice Building.

I only had three visitors, in total.

I was very focused on how nice the room I was in looked.

My first two were my mom and dad, together. Mom just seemed distressed, mumbling something about wishing that she was actually mentoring this year. Dad beamed, clearly pleased that I was in the Games at last. He'd dropped the idea of volunteering by me, but I never had. I guessed I would've considered it more seriously my last year in the Reaping.

Their visit was short.

I don't think mom said anything, really, the whole time.

Dad, however, chattered away. "Well, I figure that you stand a pretty good chance! You come from a family of champions, and the audience is sure to love you. How could they not? I'm so proud..." After a while, I even tuned him out. I didn't bother pointing out that the only "champion" in our family so far was mom, and I wasn't sure how much she counted anymore.

They both left, eventually.

Michael, one of my only friends, was next.

He wasn't as distressed as mom was, but not as cheery as dad, either.

Somewhere in the middle.

Confident in me, but nervous about the possibilities.

Just like how I felt.

"Well," he started, "your dad must be happy."

"Of course. He couldn't stop beaming when he visited me."

"I would think so. And he does have a point. You have a good chance."

"Even against the Careers?"

"Especially against the Careers. They're all idiots, anyway. And, at least you don't have your mom as a mentor."

"I'd rather have her than what's-his-face."

"Yeah, maybe; but your mom would be miserable the whole time."

The Peacekeepers were already signaling that it was time for him to leave. Already?

And Michael left without a fight, saying just two more words:

"Come home."

And then he was gone.

I was taken to the train station. I managed to smile and wave for the cameras, as did Replican.

But it was over very quickly, just like the visitation time.

We got on the train, and the ride, too, sped by. When we got to the Capitol, I only really saw one sight.

A glowing sun peaking over the distant mountains, making the city shine in the light of a new dawn.

Trained Planner: Replican Tally, District 5 Male Tribute

Reaping Day. It came every year-hated by most, and loved by only the Careers and the Capitol. District Five was not included in that group of people who loved the Games. Definitely not. What was there to like about them? The death, violence, and bloodshed that was sought out only by those strongest tributes that almost made it home?

There wasn't too much time left before I had to go to the Reaping, whether I liked it or not. Dad had left already, since he was a Peacekeeper in the district and was supposed to be ready to control the crowd. Mom was still at work in the lab-she'd probably go straight to the Reaping. I was on my own.

That was okay; I couldn't say that I minded it too much. At least dad wasn't pushing more training on me and mom wasn't being too pathetic in her attempts to pretend that she wasn't completely exhausted. It was just me.

I knew that the Reaping was going to start on time, and no one was going to be walking around, saying, "Wait a minute, we can't start yet! Replican Tally is missing!" Running late was more like it, so I started to walk towards the center of town, where the Reaping would take place.It was a nice walk, I had to admit. The atmosphere on the way there seemed pleasant enough, and the weather, though not quite suting, was perfect for an event like the Reaping. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the air was just warm enough to be at a comfortable temperature.

But, still, it couldn't quell my uneasiness about the Reaping.

I finally reached the sign-in place, only to find that the line was huge, filled with all of the others who had delayed leaving for as long as possible. Maybe some of them had better reasons than me. Maybe they didn't.

I finally reached the front, signed in quickly, and headed over to the sixteen-year-old section.

The Reaping began before everyone was even signed in.

The mayor told the history of Panem. The only interesting part was when he listed the disasters-they were scientific, and therefore were of interest to me. My mom had taught me about all types of science.

Then he flawlessly moved in to the reading of the list of past victors. This year's mentors were to be Aquifer Vertex and Faden Doom. I'd heard some relatively good things about Aquifer, but I wasn't so sure about the other mentor-I hadn't heard much about him. The only specific thing I remember about either of them is how Aquifer won by poisoning the water supply in the arena of her Games.

Then our escort, Laureellee Jaames, was introduced. She was positively bursting with excitement. I was wondering if it was because she was honestly happy that she was promoted from her District Twelve escort job a few years back, or if it was because she was genuinely excited about watching innocent little kids die. Either way, she gave her speech, saying things

like, "Oh, I'm just so happy to be here!" and, "Isn't District Five just the best district ever?" in a ridiculous Capitol accent, naturally.

"I actually have an announcement for this year!" she called out, sounding like this should be overly shocking to all of us. "It's time for the reading of the card!"

Okay, so maybe it was shocking. It wasn't a Quell year, right? Let's see, last year was the four-hundred-fourth Games...

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

"Let's get some tributes!"

"Vitality Falon!"

I couldn't help but gasp, and then I discovered that I wasn't alone-nearly everybody in the whole district did. Vitality was universally known within District Five, since her mom was a victor. Someone just had to volunteer for her.

But no one did. Our escort didn't even seem to realize this. I couldn't help but feel bad for whoever went in with her-the other victors would realize who she was instantly and favor her. Vitality just made her way to the stage, and then Laureellee Jaames was moving over to the other side of the stage, pulling out a name, and calling out, "Replican Tally!"

Wait a second... that was me... I went by Tal, but, still... that was my name...

Move! I commanded myself. I finally forced myself up and towards the stage. Nobody volunteered.

Which meant that I was the male tribute from District Five for the four-hundred-fifth Hunger Games. And I was going to die.

Probably at the terrifying hands of a mutation or something.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, which I couldn't even make myself pay attention to. I watched myself on a big screen, which helped to keep the sheer terror off my face. I didn't look like a future victor, just like a kid-with my red hair that won't stay flat, with the friendship bracelet from my best friend, Laz, almost falling off my wrist, with the sneakers on my feet that don't even begin to match my much more formal Reaping outfit...

All of the thoughts blurred together.

And then it was over, and I shook hands with Vitality before the anthem played, seeming

to last forever. It was only moments afterwards that we were led in to the Justice Building, just spiraling in to the blur.

I had exactly three visitors that day.

My parents were first.

My mom just seemed even more tired than usual, and dad didn't look as tough, not having quite the same, solid expression that he did when he tried to train me.

I realized that my mom was trying to say something. "V-Vi-Vitality... m-mentors... favor... odds... di-different..."

I knew that she was having the same sort of thoughts that I'd had about who my mentors would favor. I mean, come on, you had Vitality, the daughter of a victor that was probably one of their friends, or, me, Tal, the son of a Peacekeeper and a scientist... who were they going to bet on?

"At least I got some training in before all of this," my dad commented. "Not everyone could say that."

"True," I agreed.

And then, for nearly the rest of their time, there was silence. It wasn't particularly uncomfortable or tense, just... depressing. One of the Peacekeepers started to signal that we were nearing time to go, but dad just sort of shook his head. The two guards were probably old friends from the Peacekeeper force. They weren't going to force them out just yet.

But dad didn't say anything else, and the silence continued until two other, less friendly Peacekeepers, came to take them away and bring in my next visitor-Laz.

He, too, brought up Vitality, but not quite in the same way that mom had.

Mostly, we just talked, and he tried to convince me that I still had a chance (more than he did, anyway), I could still live, I could still come home...

I almost didn't want to believe him. There was nothing that I could do.

"And... and you have training... some, at least," he said conclusively.

I nodded.

He, too, left.

I was brought to the train station shortly afterwards, where Vitality and I both smiled and waved for the cameras, both already trying to win over the crowd's favor. For me, it was

probably just a lost attempt.

The train ride proved me right, if anything. Our mentors seemed to dote over Vitality the whole time, and she didn't even notice.

Everyone ignored me, almost, unless you counted the Avoxes.

So when we pulled in to the Capitol, I was ready to find a way to come home.

Tough Orphan: Kizzy Ericssen, District 6 Female Tribute

I learned a few things on that fateful Reaping Day. The first was that sleeping in a tree

was a bad idea, which was proved when I woke up by nearly falling out of it. Just as I thought that my fingertips were going to slide off of the branch, I swung myself back on to it steadily. Not the best way to wake up. Since I was already awake, I just grabbed my backpack and climbed down-a little more gracefully this time. Once I hit the ground, I discovered that it wasn't quite yet dawn, which was fine with me, don't get me wrong; all it meant was that navigating the district would be a bit harder than usual. But I was used to that, as I had been ever since that epidemic a few years ago that left me where I am now.

The next thing that I was aware of, as usual, was that I was hungry. Really hungry. Again, this I was used to, but it was annoying more than anything, just the same. Alright, I thought. Food. Where can you find it? Think! There was always food around-if you could find it, that was. I started walking, aiming myself a bit more towards the center of town, where the shops were. As I walked, I dug through my backpack, looking for a bit of money that I might have saved up. Occasionally, I'd do odd jobs just long enough to earn enough money to stay alive. I'd had some of the basics on me for years, but things like food ran out quickly.

In the center of town, just a few people were starting to open up their shops. I spotted the open door to the bakery and walked inside, if for no other reason than to just get out of the cold for a minute or two. Sure enough, the baker, or whatever his "official" title was, was there at the counter, waiting for potential costumers. I got ready to use my best acting skills, and put on my most convincing, sweet smile. "Good morning, sir," I greeted cheerfully. In my head, I was thinking something more like: Wow I sound so stupid. I hate people that are actually like this. Good thing I'm acting...

The baker, however, bought it and even genuinely smiled back. "Good morning. What can I help you with today?" I couldn't believe that he was actually a. buying this and b. not completely annoyed with people who were like who I was pretending to be. Oh, well.

"What do you have that I could buy for..." I trailed off, checking my stock of cash. "Two dollars?" That sounded pathetic, I tell myself mentally. Just pathetic.

"Hmm, well, let me see, now..." He walked in to the back of the bakery and came back, holding a small, brown paper bag. "This'd be your best deal. Three biscuits for exactly those two dollars. And, tell you what, sweetie, I'll throw in an extra one, just for you." Okay, the calling me "sweetie" was annoying and kind of creepy, but I ignored it.

"Oh, thank you," I said, handing over the money already and taking the food. "Have a nice day, now!"

"You too," he said as I walked out.

I sighed in relief as I walk out, just relieved that I didn't have to keep up that dumb act anymore. One of the biscuits was already half gone before I was off of the sidewalk again. No, I scolded myself, one now, one for after the reaping, one for tonight, and one for breakfast tomorrow. I finished it off, forcing myself to bite, chew, and swallow each bit, so I could at least pretend that I had some self-control.

Hey, they'd be stale by tomorrow, but at least I'd have some food, and it had to be better than nothing at all. I wasn't complaining. On my way to the Reaping, I stopped and picked some berries that were growing in a small patch of shrubs near the square. They seemed alright to me, and I threw them in a little compartment of my bag.

I reached the Reaping in plenty of time and signed in before heading over to the seventeen-year-old section. I didn't talk to anyone, just waited for the Reaping to start, which it did soon enough.

The mayor read the history of Panem, her voice flat and monotonous. Then she read the list of past victors, along with the announcement that Nate and Antara were the mentors for this year. I almost felt bad for Nate. Almost. He'd just won last year, and he was still seventeen, and terrified to death of the Games, especially now.

Our escort, a woman who's quite full of herself, named Hesperide Twine, (though everyone just calls her "Mrs. Twine", for whatever reason), was introduced just then, and she gave a speech about how District Six was almost as wonderful as she was. I scowled.

Then she said, "I have a very, very, very special announcement! It's time for this year's reading of the card!"

Oh, you had to be kidding me, now.

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

Before I was even conscious of what she was doing, she was already calling out:

"Kizzy Ericssen!"

Oh, great. Just excellent. Wonderful. That was me.

I walked up to the stage, and she called out the name of the next tribute, as there were no volunteers.

"Tod Barringer!"

Whoever he was, he made his way to the stage, positively glaring at all of the cameras. His glare only deepened when nobody volunteered for him, either.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, and then I shook Tod's hand, and the anthem played.

We were escorted to the Justice Building.

I didn't have any visitors.

I didn't expect any.

At the train station, Tod just glares even more. I put on the same act that I had just that morning, smiling and waving for everyone. But on the inside, I was deeply annoyed.

The train ride went by quickly. The only thing that I really paid attention to was the food. I was used to providing for myself, and I hated it when the Capitol tried to do everything for me, so I just ate the food that I'd brought with me. I was out of it by the time we pulled in to the train station, though; so I didn't know what I was going to do then.

But it didn't matter, because we were already at our destination.

And I knew that I was ready.

Ready for all of this.

Ready to let the Games begin.

Confident Fighter: Tod Barringer, District 6 Male Tribute

Fact: Eventually, every single human dies.

Fact: This will never change. It is a fact.

Opinion: Everyone deserves this and it is my job to make sure that this happens.

It was Reaping Day, and one of the things that I was aware of was that I hated the weather. It didn't suit the day-it was sunny and bright and cheery. Ugh. It reminded me of my sister, who was always so optimistic and naive that it was extremely annoying. Extremely. Annoying. Do you hear me?

Either way, what was really annoying me at that moment was how my left hand was shaking. It always did, unless it had a weapon in it. But it generally didn't. Not too many weapons here in District Six.

So, basically, I was mad at even the day itself, and the fact that it was almost time for the Reaping wasn't helping any.

I finally left, not even waiting for dad or Lucy, my sister. Having to be outside in the weather was possibly the only thing worse than having to think about it.

The Reaping started very quickly, once I was in my place in the sixteen-year-old section. Good, I thought. I won't have to wait long to get all of this over with.

Basically, I zoned out. Completely. Don't bother asking me what was going on, I truly had no clue. I couldn't have even told you who the mentors for the year were-only that they deserved to die. Finally, I heard a few words that actually managed to shock me:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

But I only really paid attention to the drawing, or the actual Reaping in itself. First, our escort, someone whose name I didn't know and didn't care about who seemed quite full of herself and deserved to die, called the girl, whose name didn't ring a bell. And also deserved to die. Though she, unlike our escort, probably would actually die relatively soon. Then the escort called my name, and I was just about ready to punch her in the face, especially when no one volunteered.

This only added to the opinion of mine that I stated earlier.

Every other tribute in that arena will die.

I promise you that, right now.

The rest of the Reaping, truly, was just one big blur.

Until we went to the Justice Building.

Lucy was my first visitor. Dad didn't even show up to the Reaping-nothing good was waiting for him.

Not that I cared.

Everyone deserved to die anyway.

Including him.

Especially him.

"You could win." Lucy's voice interrupted my thoughts. "And then you could come home, and we could all live in the Victor's Village, and-"

"Will you just shut up already?"

She was quiet.

I was satisfied.

But she didn't leave, and I frowned. "What are you still here for?"

"Well, I thought that'd be nice to visit my brother before he goes off to-"

"To die? That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?"

She tried to backtrack, but it was useless. "No; no! I was going to say 'to the Games', really!"

"No, you weren't. It's too late for that. Go, just... go! Leave! Now!"

She backed out of the room.

Nellie came in next. She was my best friend, technically, though she still deserved to die, just like everyone else. Plus she was sort of demented, wanting to sell dead people who had already gotten their fate to Peacekeepers, just to freak 'em out, I guessed. What was now my district token was from Nellie, a simple wire ring.

"So..." she started. "What was all of that yelling about?"

"My sister was being annoying," I mumbled.

"Isn't she always?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Our discussion wasn't about too much in particular, and, eventually, Nellie left, too, without even really saying goodbye. I still didn't care. At least, that was what I was telling myself.

Finally, I got to go to the train station, where I glared at the cameras, and my district partner, what's-her-face, waved and smiled. I was wondering if it was real or not, because she seemed slightly irritated by it all after a while.

Our escort dragged us on to the train, and the first thing I did was take advantage of all of the Capitol luxuries. The shower, first of all, and then the closets that picked out your clothes for you, and then the bed, for, well, sleeping. And then, lastly, the food, of course. I showed up to dinner in pajamas, and no one seemed to really notice.

I ate so much food that I was wondering how I wasn't sick, until I fell asleep again. No time to be picky.

The morning was the same routine, and I amused myself by ordering random items off of the menu, just to see what it was that the Avoxes brought me seconds later.

The train ride still seemed to take way too long. Much too long. As in, by a lot. I was dying to get some real air sometime. Mostly, I just thought. Partially about what was going on back home, with dad and Lucy, if dad wasn't dead already for not showing up to the Reaping. Partially about the Games. Partially about the Capitol. Partially about everything else.

Finally, our train started to pull, slowly, slowly, in to the Capitol's train station.

The Capitol couldn't be captured in words.

It was... really something.

And that meant a lot, comin' from me.

Really something...

Psychological Avox: Kildaire Kalitlin , District 7 Female Tribute

I was sitting at yet another meeting where the people who ran the community home of District Seven were trying to decide just what to do with me. "Seventeen-years-old, and has never spoken a single word," they'd say. Or, perhaps, something more along the lines of, "Parents abandoned her, can't help but feel bad, but there's really nothing we can do for her now." Or, better yet, "She always seems so dazed, unless she's running for her life or somethin'."

All of those statements were absolutely, one-hundred-percent true. But they just didn't understand, sometimes. I fingered the beaded necklace that I'd gotten from my mother before she left. "She'll turn eighteen next year," someone finally commented-a member of the board, maybe? "Be out of the Reaping, you can kick her out then."

"That seems a bit harsh," someone else put in. "She'd never be able to fight for herself, or even survive-make it at all, for that matter." That brought me back to their whole "not understanding" ordeal. Yes, yes, I could, in fact, fight for myself, thank you very much. Try me. I, Kildaire of District Seven, would never go down without a fight. No matter how weak or even straight-out pathetic it was.

"Still..."

"So she has a communication problem-so what?" Thank you.

"So she won't be able to be successful, at this rate, just like half of your kids here!" someone blurted out.

"Nothing we can do at the moment." The words seemed to end the meeting, and everyone left the conference room, including me, as I went down to breakfast with everyone else.

It had already started, but I apparently hadn't missed much. For breakfast, there was simply some form of grainy mixture that they were calling oatmeal. I decided to nickname it "oatmush". The thought greatly amused me, for some reason.

I sat down at an empty table and ate, in silence, naturally. Of course. I was left alone, with just my thoughts.

I thought about a lot of things at that breakfast before the Reaping. Mostly about what everyone had said at that meeting. Not only did it bother me, but at least one of those facts was true. They could kick me out next year-it was my last year in the Reaping.

Breakfast was over soon enough, and we were all taken to the Reaping.

It started very shortly after we got there, after I signed in and took my place.

I tried to listen, for the simple reason that I had nothing else to do. First, the mayor told the story of Panem. She did a relatively good job of it, too; she made it actually seem interesting and... useful.

Then she read the list of past District Seven victors. It wasn't that long of a list, and the two mentors for this year were Firth Adrien and Mati Harrison. I wasn't quite sure what to think of either of them.

Then, the mayor introduced our escort, Cordelia Carruthers. She gave a rather insincere speech, and then said, "I have an announcement!" She sounded really excited by it, and then began to read:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

Wow.

I did not see that one coming.

Then she proceeded to draw the names of the tributes.

"Kildaire Kalitlin!"

That was me. That was my name. Kildaire Kalitlin: the girl who wasn't going to go down without a fight.

I went up to the stage.

Then she called the boy's name.

"Ellink Lamont!"

Oh, great; my district partner was the boy who was famous for filming duet comedies in the square that we were standing in right now.

He, too, went up to the stage.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, and then I shook hands with Link (as I'd heard he proffered to be called), and then the anthem played.

I tried to let the oh-so-familiar music of the anthem calm me.

Unsuccessfully.

In the Justice Building, (which was really quite nice, by the way), no one came to visit me. I didn't mind too much. It wasn't like I would've said anything, anyway. No one was close enough or cared enough about me to visit, I guess.

At the train station, I just watched a point in the distance, and Link entertained the film crews. Came naturally for him, I suppose. He'd give the audience what they wanted- a good show. I'd seen his... "act", with one of his friends, a few times, when the orphanage directors would take us to see them perform. They were always funny, and had decent singing voices, though they were opposite, too.

We finally got on to the train, which made the room in the Justice Building look like... oatmush, to be honest. I actually managed to get a bit of sleep that night and enjoy the food. Link, I guess, knew enough about me, (which I found sort of stalkerish), to tell our mentors about my little, er... communication problem.

Early the next morning, we finally started to pull in to the Capitol train station. It was still quiet out on the Capitol streets, giving off a feeling of peace.

A fake one.

Because Panem would never truly be at peace.

Clever Comedian: Ellink Lamont, District 7 Male Tribute

"One, two, three."

I hit record and my best friend, Rhett, started to sing as I held the camera. It had been my turn a few minutes before, and now it was his-my turn to film. Later, we were planning to put the two together and possibly find a way to play it in the square. That would require a lot to organize, though, I thought. The audience set up, the screen, the lights, the speakers...

Rhett finished, and I stopped recording. "Sounded good," he commented. "Did it come out okay?"

"Yup," I said, already re-playing the clip, holding it out for Rhett to see.

"Perfect."

"This may be the best one yet."

"Should we start putting it together now?"

"After the Reaping. We're almost out of time, anyway."

"Good point."

I put the camera away in its place and Rhett said, "I'd better be getting home so my parents will know when I've left for the Reaping. See ya' later."

"See ya'."

After Rhett left, I started to get ready for the Reaping myself. It didn't take too long, and I ended up putting on skinny jeans, a navy blue knit scarf, a white-and-blue plaid button-up shirt with a white vest over, and black-and-white checkered shoes, with a pair of gloves in my back pocket. I added a tiny camera that I put in another pocket just in case any good film opportunities came up.

Downstairs, mother, father, my sister, Lillah, and my brothers, Lidkoan and Lyngra, were waiting, already. Well, they work fast, I observed to myself.

Without a word, we started to walk towards the square. I'd walked the route many times, mainly for my comedian act with Rhett. But today it was for the Reaping, and the set up was very different.

I caught a glimpse of myself on one of the screens (which I noticed wasn't very steady), and checked my appearance one last time. I looked like I usually did, as described by Rhett: an elf with glasses.

I signed in and took my place in the sixteen-year-old section.

The Reaping began not long after, and the mayor took the stage, telling the story of

Panem first. I sort of wished that it were more... entertaining, though I knew that the mayor was doing the best that she could. Then she read the rather short list of past victors, saying that Firth Adrien and Mati Harrison were going to be the mentors for this year.

Then she introduced our escort, Cordelia Carruthers, who gave a speech that I found slightly more amusing, and then said, "I have an announcement!" She began to read:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

False preparation. It always annoyed me, but this Quell still just didn't seem right.

"Kildaire Kalitlin!"

I was snapped out of my thoughts when she called the girl's name. I'd heard about her at school. She didn't talk. She went up to the stage.

"Ellink Lamont!"

That... that was... that was my... that was my name.

I went up to the stage, hearing a bit of recognition in the whispers of the crowd.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, and then I shook hands with Kildaire. The anthem played. We were taken to the Justice Building.

My first visitors were, predictably, my family.

Mother was talking all about how I was going to die.

Father told me some strategy ideas.

Lillah was basically giving me orders, like, "Come home alive or I'll kill you."

Lidkoan was just joining in with dad every once and a while, offering a few more ideas.

Lyngra was taking mother's side, as if he couldn't wait for the bloodbath.

Eventually, mother, Lillah, and Lyngra left first, leaving just father and Lidkoan, who were still rambling quietly about strategy. They too, left, and the whole mess of the situation only seemed worse.

My only other visitor was Rhett.

To summarize, this is how he started the conversation, "I guess I'll be writing solos rather than duets, now."

"No," I said. "Just during the Games. Then we can go back to our duets."

"Maybe," he said, sounding just sad, and... defeated, for once.

"We will," I promised. "Really."

"Maybe," he repeated.

"Yes," I insisted.

He didn't really seem to be listening, and it was hard to think of what to say at all. The Peacekeepers told him to leave at one point, but, even in the silence, we'd already said everything that needed to be said.

While I was waiting to be taken to the train station, I started up the tiny camera, and filmed the room around me, bored.

I continued filming during the car ride, finally turning it off and putting it away once we were settled in the train station.

Kildaire, my district partner, seemed pretty zoned out. I tried to amuse the people who had cameras. Maybe sponsors would see it.

Once we got on the train, I started talking to my mentor, Firth. He seemed to be a lot like me, and a fast thinker. I made sure to tell him about Kildaire and her "not talking" thing. He seemed to understand.

The train ride was also filmed, though only by me. I explored with the camera, figuring that maybe the footage could be used as a backdrop one day or something; I also filmed whatever flew by the window.

Finally, we pulled in to the Capitol train station.

I started to walk down the steps with Kildaire, and the Capitol was now what surrounded us.

Observant Student: Charity Reed, District 8 Female Tribute

Bring!

Bring!

Bring!

Within approximately fifteen minutes, I'd gotten up, turned off the alarm clock, made my bed, gotten dressed and washed, grabbed my backpack, and was ready to set out for the day.

Mother, father, and Kelt weren't awake yet, so I was quiet as I opened the door and started to walk along the streets of District Eight.

Garret, (one of my best friends), and I had to agreed to meet at the library today to study for a bit before the Reaping. Yes, it sounded nerdy, but after the Games, we were already nearing the standardized tests for the quarter. The reason that Garret and I were even friends was because he was one of the few people who was as smart as I was-he had transferred to my school from a private school a while back.

I'd arranged it with my parents last night, as well, and they said it was fine as long as I was home in time for my mother to get me ready for the Reaping. It was one of the few times every year that I let her "dress me up", just like she always wanted to.

It wasn't that long of a walk to the library, and Garret wasn't even there yet. I went ahead inside to make sure that we would get a table. The library was barely open on Reaping Day, and I was the only person there apart from the librarians. Kind of creepy, really.

It wasn't long before he got there, and, to be honest, there was mostly silence while we both set to work.

Most of the time, for me, at least, was spent on history,

I had to leave soon, though, and Garret stayed behind while I went home to get ready, or rather, let my mother get me ready, for the Reaping.

The dress had way too much lace for my liking, but I decided to not tell my mother that, and we all headed out for the Reaping.

We were there early, despite everything. Not that I was complaining.

I signed in and took my place in the seventeen-year-old section.

Once it did start, the mayor told the story of our country, Panem. Basically: a review of the history that I had just been studying.

Then she read the list of our past victors, which was also another history review, announcing that Ash Reming and Saxony would be the mentors for this year. All I knew about either of them was that Saxony was very closed off. Usually, I would've known more about the

two mentors by now.

Then she introduced our escort, a young woman named Hime. Anyone could tell that her initial enthusiasm for being an escort was wearing off, and she only kept the job to help keep us district kids alive. Not that she succeeded too often.

Either way, Hime gave a speech, and then said, "I have an announcement!"

She began to read:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

According to all of that history I studied, that isn't even legal...

The next thing I was aware of?

"Charity Reed!"

Me. My name. Being called to go in to the arena. The arena of nearly certain death.

I started to move towards the stage. It felt like it was a lifetime later, but I reached it eventually.

"Kyler Hail!"

The boy who was now my district partner started to walk towards the stage. He looked kind enough.

There were no volunteers. No one was about to volunteer to die.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, and then I shook hands with Kyler before the anthem played.

Once I was inside the Justice Building, mother, father, and Kelt came to visit me first.

Maybe you've never had to say goodbye to your family before you got shipped off to imminent death, but let me tell you, it's not a pleasant experience.

Especially since my family was a complete and total wreck by the time they got there, particularly mother.

"Everything!" she cried. "Everything is ruined!" And then, a bit more quietly, to herself, she mumbled, "We'll never be the ideal family now."

Kelt said, "Well, maybe she'll come home."

Liar, I thought to myself. We all knew that I wasn't coming home. Then again, Kelt was never the sharpest knife in the drawer.

Father was oddly silent; it seemed to show that he knew what was going to happen, yet wouldn't admit it out loud.

Their visit ended abruptly when the Peacekeepers came to retrieve them. "We love you!" mother called as the Peacekeepers practically dragged them out of the room. "Don't forget that!"

Garret was next; he was a lot calmer than my family was. He tried to be reassuring. "You're one of the older tributes," he reminded me. "You'll probably only really have to look out for the Careers. And you're smart-that can always be an advantage in any arena."

He was right, of course, but I almost didn't want to believe him. "But that'll be my downfall!" I blurted out. "The Careers! They don't need to be smart, they've got every sponsor in the entire Capitol!"

"There has to be someone out there who would be willing to sponsor someone like you," Garret pointed out.

Again, a good point that I ignored.

"Good luck," he said finally. "But you won't need it."

And then he walked out.

"Yes," I whispered after him. "I will need it."

But, of course, these Games weren't about luck.

I was brought to the train station, where Kyler was actually smiling for the cameras. I didn't. I just sort of stood there. I found the cameras annoying, to be honest.

Once we were on the train, I started to go to my room immediately.

I didn't do too much until a while later, when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," I said, turning around to see whom it was.

It was Kyler, and he smiled at me before saying, "Hime said to tell you that it's time for dinner."

"And...?"

"Um, you should come?"

"What if I don't want to?"

Kyler thought about it for a second, and then laughed. "Then I guess you don't have to. But you should."

"Why?" He, too, was starting to annoy me.

But he just changed the subject so abruptly that I was caught off guard. "We could be allies, you know."

"What?"

"A-Allies. You know, in the arena, and all."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose we could."

"Well, do you want to be?"

"Allies?" I wasn't really thinking, but then a thought came to me, and I actually smiled for the first time that day. "Yes; I guess I would like to be allies with you."

"Alright, then." We shook hands for the second time, and the deal was set. We went to dinner.

"So," Ash, Kyler's mentor, started, "What's your plan for the arena?" The question was directed at both of us as we sat down.

"We're going to be allies," Kyler said.

"Great idea," Ash commented, already filling his plate absently.

"Where's Saxony?" I asked. Her absence irritated me.

"Who knows?" Ash said. "On the train, hopefully."

I groaned, and Kyler just kept smiling.

It was going to be a long train ride.

The next morning, we pulled in to the Capitol train station. I watched Kyler prepare for the next round of cameras with an odd fascination. We weren't even off of the train yet, and already, I had a plan.

A good plan.

A plan that I could just hope would work.

Kind Ally: Kyler Hail, District 8 Male Tribute

"Time to get up!"

My eyes flew open and the District Eight community home came in to view-the blandly colored walls, hardwood floors, bright white ceiling... all of it.

"Time to get up!" the same, harsh voice repeated.

I knew that I didn't have a lot of time. They only gave us about ten minutes to be completely ready for breakfast each morning. Even though it was Reaping Day, there were no exceptions.

The only thing that I really noticed while I was getting ready was the gold necklace that I put on. It was from my mom-one of the few things that I had left from my family. The other thing that I had left was my sword that I still practiced with every day.

I was one of the first people to get to the cafeteria downstairs. Today's breakfast was disappointingly small, and consisted of just a slice of bread and butter with a piece of fruit each. I sat down at an empty table, making a mental note to save a seat for my best friend, Aaron. It wasn't like anyone was desperately going to want the spot, though.

He got to breakfast shortly afterwards and sat down, ending up as the only other person at the table.

We didn't really talk, just ate hurriedly until the directors were practically shoving everyone out the main doors to get to the Reaping on time.

I signed in and headed over to the sixteen-year-old section with Aaron.

The Reaping didn't begin for a while, since we were one of the very first groups there.

I just looked around and waited for everything to get moving, which it did eventually.

The mayor read the history of Panem, which I knew that no one listened to. It had to make the mayor feel bad, I guess, so I tried to listen. It wasn't too much of a success, but at least I can say that I tried. I bet a lot of people can't say that.

Then she read the list of past District Two victors, announcing that Ash Reming and Saxony would be the mentors for this year. Ash was generally a pretty good, likable mentor, but Saxony just seemed to be a bit... shy, at times.

Then our escort was introduced. I didn't think that she liked being an escort a lot, but you had to admire the fact that she stuck with it, especially escorting for a poorer district like Eight. She just wanted to help.

Hime gave her speech, which I also tried to listen too. It was almost a bit painful at times when her high-pitched accent made the microphone crack. District Eight couldn't afford very good equipment, even for a special event like the Reaping.

Hime finally said, "I have an announcement!"

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

The Quarter Quell was... interesting. I can't say that I really thought about it too much. It was just another way to make life more miserable for us: the districts.

She called out the name of the first tribute.

"Charity Reed!"

I watched the girl who started to walk towards the stage. She looked positively terrified and on the edge of tears, clearly trying to hide it. You could sense the sympathy of the crowd, but there was still the unfair feeling of relief from the parents who knew that their child had been spared for just another year.

The cameras found the people who must've been her family in the crowd, and they were all already a mess.

It just wasn't fair, what the Capitol forced on us. This girl had a life to live. She could've grown up to fulfill dreams that most of Panem would never know about, had a family and been happy... maybe.

There are no volunteers.

But, no. Now she's being sent to her cruel, undeserved death.

"Kyler Hail!"

And so am I, I added mentally, walking towards the stage.

Everyone in the home was forced to take tessera to help support the kitchens. I'd had a lot of slips by now. The odds were not in my favor.

They never were.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, which I didn't even bother to try to pay attention to.

Then I shook hands with Charity, and the anthem played.

We were taken to the Justice Building shortly afterwards.

I had exactly one visitor that day: Aaron.

He was going to be all alone now, once I died. He didn't have a lot of other friends, and of course, he, like me, had no family.

That's what we'd always had in common:

We were all alone in the world.

"Y-you're going to w-win, r-right?" he asked. His voice was shaky and uneven, the words barely choked out.

"I'm going to try," I replied. I wasn't going to make a promise that I wasn't going to keep. "I'll try and stay alive."

"B-but, you h-have t-to come... come h-home!"

I'd never seen Aaron this... unstable.

"I'll try," I repeated.

"O-okay."

"Good."

"I-I'll see you again, then... right?"

Before I could answer, Aaron left.

Forever.

I was taken to the train station after a while, and I tried to smile and such for the camera crews. I noted that Charity was still holding herself together.

We finally got on to the train, and Charity stormed off right away.

I just went to my room, carefully changing out of my Reaping outfit in to a more casual attire.

Most of the time, I was just pacing the room, until Hime came in. "Hello, Kyler," she said. "It's almost time for dinner! Will you go get Charity?"

"Okay, sure," I said, a bit awkwardly.

Hime left and I went to Charity's room.

I knocked on her door, and I heard her call softly, "Come in."

I did, and she turned around so that she was facing me. She still looked miserable, and I smiled at her, unsuccessfully trying to cheer her up. "Hime said to tell you that it's time for dinner."

"And...?"

"Um, you should come?" I didn't quite understand her response.

"What if I don't want to?"

I had to think about it for a second, but I ended up finding it a bit funny, at least, compared to everything else that'd been happening, and laughed. "Then I guess you don't have to. But you should."

"Why?" She was starting to sound irritated, and I felt bad. I did want her to come, for some reason.

So I changed the subject, and the words came out before I could even stop them. "We could be allies, you know."

"What?"

"A-Allies. You know, in the arena, and all."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose we could."

"Well, do you want to be?"

"Allies?" She smiled, and it actually helped to improve my day. "Yes; I guess I would like to be allies with you."

"Alright, then."

We shook hands to seal the deal and went to dinner.

After we sat down, Ash asked, "So, what's your plan for the arena?"

"We're going to be allies," I blurted out. It seemed like a good idea to tell him.

"Great idea," Ash commented encouragingly.

"Where's Saxony?" Charity asked. Her tone was still annoyed.

"Who knows?" Ash said. "On the train, hopefully."

I nearly laughed, but since he was serious, I just barely managed to suppress it.

Charity, on the other hand, groaned.

The rest of dinner was eaten in relative silence. I ate a ton of food-more than I should have, probably. It was just more food than I'd ever dreamed of.

I watched the recap of the Reapings afterwards, though Charity just went straight to her room. I figured that she was tired.

I was too, so it was pretty soon afterwards that I fell fast asleep.

But the peace didn't last long.

In the morning, I had to prepare myself for the cameras, and then we pulled in to the Capitol station.

The train doors opened, and the next part of the Games began.

Deadly Competitor: Caladium Velius, District 9 Female Tribute

Cala!

"What, Kane?"

You have to get ready for the Reaping.

"How?"

You need to get in to your dress.

"Which one?"

The white one. Your favorite one, stupid!

"Oh."

I started to walk over to the dresser. Hmm, the dresser was brown. My mother's eyes were brown, too. She was probably waiting for me downstairs. I should get ready to go now so I can meet her there. For the Reaping...

Yes, the Reaping! Remember? The Reaping!

"Cala! Are you ready for the Reaping?"

"Who was that talking? Was it my mom? I think it was... was it just Kane?"

"Cala?"

"Coming!"

I walked down the stairs. "Are there going to be stairs at the Reaping? I don't think I like stairs too much, they could be dangerous, you know. You should be-"

"Cala, dear, you aren't ready for the Reaping! You still have to get into your dress and do your hair, and-oh, let me just get things ready for you." Mother went up the stairs.

"You should be careful on the stairs. They might be dangerous. The arena is dangerous. The arena... it's outside. Will the Reaping be outside?"

"Cala?"

"Yes, Kane?"

"It isn't Kane, that's your mother!" dad called back from somewhere.

"Oh... yes?"

"Your dress is ready. It's on your bed. You just need to put it on. Can you repeat that, Cala?" Mother was now at the foot of the stairs.

"My dress is ready on my bed and I need to put it on."

"Um... good. Now, you should go do that."

I went up the stairs again, more carefully this time. "Careful, careful..." I heard someone whisper that. "Was that me? It sounded like my voice... Was it you, Kane?"

No! It was yourself, genius!

"Oh."

I went upstairs. The dress was on my bed. It was the white one. The white reminded me of snow. Wasn't there a president named Snow once? Yes, I think there was...

I put on the dress. There was also an anklet right by the dress. Right. I write with my right hand... I put it on my right hand.

Now you actually need to brush your hair for once!

"Oh; okay." I did what Kane said and then I went back down the stairs. "Careful, careful..."

"Cala, it's time to go to the Reaping!" I thought that was my dad talking. Talking. I was supposed to talk to Tariya today. Tariya was my friend. I wondered if she would be at the Reaping. Did everyone go to the Reaping? Why was I going?

"Cala!"

"Coming?" I went to where the front door was. But my parents weren't there. "Mother? Dad?"

"We're over here, Cala. Right by the front door. You know where it is."

"But I'm at-" The door in front of me disappeared, and I noticed where my parents were. "Okay."

I walked over to where they were, and then my parents walked with me to the Reaping. They wrote my name on a piece of paper and took me to a roped-off area labeled '14'. "I think I'm fourteen..."

Yes, Cala, you're fourteen. You have been for a while now. You should be able to remember that.

"Oh. Thanks, Kane."

The event, whatever it was, started shortly after that.

There was a person on the stage that talked for a long time. Talked. Wasn't I supposed to be talking to Tariya today? But today. Today. Today was the Reaping. Was I at the Reaping? Wasn't I supposed to be at the Reaping?

You are at the Reaping. That person is the mayor.

Then he introduced another person who seemed very odd. Odd. People called me odd... wasn't odd also used to describe a number? Number. Fourteen was a number. I was fourteen. The section I was in was fourteen. Section. I was in section two of the math textbook.

The other person also talked for a very long time.

Escort! She's the escort! Kane reminded me.

Well, then, the escort talked for a very long time. And then the crowd gasped when she said something. I gasped, too; but I didn't know why.

Then she called out, "Caladium Velius!"

"What?"

A lot of people were staring at me. It seemed normal. I stared a lot, when I was thinking...Go to the stage. Put your left foot in front. Now your right foot. Come on, Cala! Don't act like a little kid!

Huh. Right, left; right, left. I write with my right hand. I had that silver thing on my right hand. Why? What was it?

It's your district token. Honestly? You couldn't remember that?

What's a district token?

Right, left; right left.

I went up the stairs. I had to be very careful.

Then the escort asked for volunteers. There were volunteers at school sometimes. They helped me... My parents helped me, too.

"Ondrew Thyte!"

A boy moved to the stage, too, and then the escort asked again about volunteers. What was she asking for? I finally decided to try to answer her. "I'll volunteer!"

Everyone laughed. What was so funny?

Idiot, you just volunteered for the Games when you're already in them, Kane said.

Everyone ignored my offer, though. I wondered why. I thought that volunteering was a good thing to do. It had to be, it meant helping people. People needed help sometimes.

Then the mayor talked for a long time again. He was the mayor now, right? Right? Right?Then Ondrew shook my hand. It seemed like an odd gesture. Why would he try and shake my hand?

Then there was music for a little while, and then people walked me in to a different place.The carpet there was green. Trees were green and-

"Cala?" My parents entered the room.

They started talking, but I felt like I couldn't really hear them. I only heard little bits of it. "Cala, just do what Kane tells you."

Didn't I always?

For good reason.

"But Kane told her to choke that kid at school! And burn down the bakery!"

"And she didn't, did she? But those will be good things in the arena."

"Good?"

"Destruction is good in the arena."

They kept talking and then people came to tell them to leave.

Tariya came in next, and she did a lot of talking as well. She sounded very happy and cheery, and kept telling me about how I was going to get to win this big contest.

Then people came to take her away, too, and then they put me inside something that moved, and then I got out of it and I was somewhere else.

Smile and wave, Kane instructed.

I did.

And then I got in to something else that was like a bigger version of the moving object I was just in. I was there for a long time, I knew.

Then I got out of it, and I was in a different place.

I think it was called the Capitol.

Outgoing Hunter: Ondrew Thyte, District 9 Male Tribute

"Ondrew! It's time to go to the Reaping!"

Really? Seriously? Already? Are you kidding me?

I jogged down the stairs, which I knew my mom would disapprove of, since she'd already forced me in to my way-too-formal Reaping outfit. She was already waiting by the front door, with my dad and four sisters. I noted that she had forced all of them in to overly formal clothes, too. "Actually, just a minute," mom corrected herself, straightening one of my sister's dresses.

"Mom, it's fine! Can we just go already and get it over with?" Olisa whined.

"Like I said, just a minute," mom insisted.

I drummed my hand on the coffee table impatiently. Tick, tock; tick, tock...

Mom was finally satisfied and nodded to confirm that we could go. Finally, I thought as we headed out the door. The walk to the Reaping was much too long for my liking. The weather was dismal; it wasn't raining, but the sky was filled with dark, threatening-looking clouds and it was oddly cold. I almost just tried to not notice it. The Reaping was depressing enough, and I didn't want anything else interfering with what could be a pleasant day otherwise.

Once we got there, we signed in with the check-in person. "Hello," she said, smiling at us. "How are you all?"

"Oh, just fine; how are you?" mom asked.

"Good, good. Did you all sign in?"

"No, maybe I just don't want to go to the Reaping this year. Could I skip it, you think? Go next year?" I joked, realizing that I hadn't checked in yet; but no one else seemed amused.

"Sign in," the woman said sternly, sliding the clipboard over to me. I just sighed and signed my name before I headed over to the fifteen-year-old section. After a while, I got pretty bored, so I started fiddling with a poker chip that I'd won from one of my friends, Reed, during our first game. I hadn't won a game of poker since then.

The Reaping finally got going, and the mayor told the story of Panem. I had to admit that it wasn't a particularly funny story. Disasters, wars, rebellion, apocalypse... blah, blah, blah... It would've been more amusing if, say, Panem had been taken over by bright pink elephants at one point or something. I could have thought of something better than that, but I didn't feel like it.

Then the mayor read the list of past victors and announced that Tor Michaels and Katrina Opaque would be the mentors for this year. They were sort of an odd pair, since Katrina never killed anyone during her Games, winning by extreme luck, and Tor could barely even talk because of his speech impediment.

Eisha Cuthlin, our escort, was introduced just then. She gave a speech, which was definitely a lot funnier than the story of Panem. It wasn't so much what she said as how it sounded in her Capitol accent. It all sounded like a question. "I'm so happy to be here? District Nine is the best district I could've asked for?" That's what it sounded like, alright. Ha, more like, "This is really a statement?" Would've been even more hilarious if she'd said that.

She moved on, though, and announced, "It's time for the reading of the card!"

Okay, wait, hold on a minute... huh?

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

A Quarter Quell? What?

"Caladium Velius!"

A girl walked up to the stage. She seemed pretty normal to me, at first, but there was just something off about her... And then, I heard, "Ondrew Thyte!"

Oh, great. Just great. That was me. I was Ondrew Thyte. I walked up to the stage.

"Any volunteers?" Eisha asked. "Any at all?"

I closed my eyes and wished and hoped and dreamed...

"I'll volunteer!"

Yes! But then I just heard a lot of laughter. I opened my eyes, and I finally realized who had spoken. Cala. The girl that was just called. And there was something definitely off about her... I ended up joining in with the laughing, despite myself. Even with everything, I thought that just made my day. The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, which just about killed the laughs, and then I shook hands with Cala. We were taken to the Justice Building.

My first visitors, out of many, were my mom, dad, and four sisters: Olisa, Ophelia, Olive, and Orica. Yeah, my family liked names that started with the letter "o". For example, my parents' first names were Oyana and Otrick. In the room after the Reaping, my dad was pretty much silent. He very rarely said anything, normally. Mom was trying to be supportive. "Well, you could win," she pointed out. "You've been hunting with your father, and you can use some weapons, as long as you can get your hands on one..."

"Yeah, and that's the hard part," I commented.

"More likely you'd die of an allergic reaction," Olisa said. "You're allergic, to like,

everything."

"But that might not matter, if he's a good enough fighter," Olive said.

"The odds are in your favor; sort of..." Ophelia put in.

"I wonder what the arena'll be like. Maybe it'll be like our district, and then that would help you a lot!" Orica exclaimed, sort of randomly, really.

"Alright, well, we love you," mom said at last. We all sort of group-hugged, and then they left. And I might not see them ever again.

Next up was my friend, Reed. He was clearly trying to cheer me up. "Hey, just remember what I told you about girls while you're in the Capitol. Maybe-"

"Unlikely," I interrupted, knowing what he was thinking. "And besides," I added. "Livida would never approve, because it's probably against some rule." Livida was my other best friend, but the utter opposite of Reed.

"Oh, don't listen to that girl, she wouldn't know," Reed teased. "Speaking of which, I think she's coming to see you know, so on that note, I'm gonna go now... bye! See you after the Games!" I hoped so.

Livida did come in, eventually, and was already lecturing me with advice before I could even say anything. "You have to get your support team on your side. And don't trust anyone, especially not the Careers, they can't be trusted. Get your hands on those five objects early; early, you hear me? And don't go to the cornucopia, because if you die in the bloodbath, I will kill you."

"That doesn't even make sense-"

"Whatever! Just don't be a bloodbath tribute just like the rest of 'em, alright? For me?"

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good. In that case, I'll see you again." And then Livida left, too.

My next visitors were unexpected. I found out after a brief introduction that they were Cala's mom and dad. "Could we ask a favor of you?" Cala's mom asked.

"Sure. What is it?"

"Could you... could you try and take care of Cala, for us? I'm not going to ask you to be allies with her, I wouldn't ask a child to put himself in danger, but at least let her mentors know this... she's schizophrenic, and has some, er... issues. But could you just let them know?"

"Of course."

"And... one more thing?"

"Sure; anything."

The dad was the one to continue. "Just... just take care of her, for us. You don't even have to be allies, we wouldn't ask that of you, we know how hard that could be... just, before that. In the Capitol, and such. Alright?"

"Will do."

"Thank you. Thank you so much," Cala's mom said.

Then the two of them left.

I had some more visitors, just kids from school that sort of knew me; but I wasn't really paying attention to them. The people I cared about had already said goodbye. They finally took me to the train station, and I smiled and waved. Cala did, too, I was surprised to see. Maybe she wasn't as insane as she seemed. Once we were on the train, I helped show Cala where her room was. "Um... do you need help with anything?" I asked, hesitantly. She didn't answer, so I just left, making sure to let her mentor know what her parents had told me.

The train ride went by quickly after that, and, finally, we arrived at our destination: the Capitol.

Our next trip would be to a fight to the death.

Unique Cowgirl: Namitha Gol, District 10 Female Tribute

"Namitha, should I ask you why you're riding a horse while wearing a dress?"

"You could!" I called back. "But you already know why!" I always wore something similar to what I was wearing at that moment-a dress and cowboy boots, whether I was riding a horse or not. My little sister, Nellie, just went back inside the house without replying, leaving me to the riding once again.

It didn't last long, though, annoyingly enough, because my mom came outside just a few minutes later. "Namitha!"

"What?"

"It's time to start getting ready for the Reaping!"

"Oh, alright!" I pulled on the reins just slightly, almost automatically, and my horse came to a gradual stop. I climbed off and led him back in to his stall, closing the door behind me as I went back inside the house. Glancing at the clock, I noticed that mom hadn't given me too much time to get ready. I washed up as fast as I could and then changed in to a clean dress for the Reaping. At the last minute, I ended up adding a top hat that I'd added a string to so I could still wear it when I ran, with a boa around it. I also put a beaded necklace around the brim of the hat. Finally, I was ready to go.

"Ready yet?" I heard my dad's voice from downstairs.

"Yeah! Comin'!" I ran down the stairs to find him, mom, and Nellie all waiting in the living room. We set out for the Reaping; it was already mid-afternoon and the sun was beating down on us from over District Ten, surrounded by an almost oddly bright blue sky. It didn't take us long to get to the Reaping, so I signed in and took my place in the sixteen-year-old section next to my friend, Kayla.

"Hey," she said, fairly casually. I could sense the slightest amount of tension behind it, from the Reaping. Even friendship only went so far on Reaping Day.

"Hey," I replied. "You nervous?"

"What do you think?"

I shrugged, and before I could say anything, the mayor started to speak. She told the story of Panem, listing all of the disasters and such. It wasn't hard to hear the edge in her voice whenever she had to talk about the Capitol. You'd think that she'd be more... well, discreet, about it. It wasn't like the districts really liked the Capitol, with maybe the exceptions of the Careers, but we weren't about to go around announcing it! The edge vanished once she read the list of past victors. We hadn't exactly had a ton, but she announced that Tara Gol and Kashton Garrison were mentoring for this year. I couldn't help but smile at that first one-Tara was my cousin.

Then our escort, Myra Schnitt, was introduced. She was fairly plain, as far as Capitol standards went, and blended in well. She gave her annual speech, and then said, "There is an

announcement for this year!" She began to read:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

The Quarter Quells were all so carefully designed, all having a purpose in showing something to the districts... but this one seemed less obvious than most. The false preparation seemed almost like, well, a cover-up, really. I was snapped out of my thoughts when Myra began to speak again.

"Namitha Gol!"

N-Namitha... Gol? That was my name-it always had been. And now it was the name of just another kid who was being sent off to death in the Games.

"No!" I looked up at the voice, half-expecting it to be Tara; I already knew that it wasn't Kayla-she was completely frozen right next to me, and it was definitely the voice of a girl on the younger side. But it wasn't Tara.

It was Nellie. "No!" she repeated, racing forwards. "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute! I volunteer!"

Nellie always acted so brave, but really, she wasn't; she was even younger than I was, and still just a little kid, really. Just like so many of the kids who died in that arena... "No," I said to her sternly once she reached where I was. "You're not volunteering for me." Could you even turn down volunteers? I knew that there was a system for the Career districts, but maybe there wasn't here, and I wasn't going to let my little sister die for me! I was older! I was supposed to be the big sister that protected her!

The escort finally decided that would be a good time to speak up. "I... I do believe that you can not accept volunteers, if you wish to participate... You couldn't, originally, but I think there was a rule change a few years ago..."

"I'm not accepting her as a volunteer," I said. I knew that there were no other volunteers; otherwise, they would've spoken up by now. "I'm going in to the arena."

"No!" Nellie's cries grew more and more desperate, but I was ignoring her now, as I climbed on to the stage.

"I guess it's decided, then," Myra said. "Namitha Gol will be our female tribute."

Mom and dad led of Nellie just as Myra called out the next name. "Gavin Tryst!"

A rather small boy made his way up to the stage. There were no volunteers for him, and

the mayor read the Treaty of Treason. Then the anthem played, and we were taken to the Justice Building, where my first visitors were my mom and dad. "Where's Nellie?" I asked the second they walked in.

"She said that she wanted to see you by herself," dad said.

"Oh."

"You can probably guess why," dad added.

"Yeah."

Mom tried to get off the subject. "Well, you have the best mentor you could ask for; she's your cousin, after all," she said.

"I guess so," I started. "But that might not help me too much."

"Sure it will; you can't think like that," dad said.

"Your father has a point," mom put in. The Peacekeepers were starting to signal that their time was short. "Alright, well, we love you," mom continued, giving me a hug. Dad did, too, and then they were both escorted out as Nellie came in. She didn't look happy with me.

"What?" I demanded.

"You should've let me volunteer for you!" she practically whined.

"You're my little sister!" I blurted out, getting frustrated. "I'm the one who's supposed to be protecting you, not the other way around!"

"But that doesn't mean you should die!"

"I never said anything about dying!" I snapped. "Who said that I'm going to die?"

"Common sense!" Nellie retorted.

"Well, I'm not dying anytime soon, and neither are you; we are both going to live long, healthy lives!" Our family had been put through having someone in the Games once, and she'd come out alive-I was going to, too.

"Fine!"

"Fine!" It was the lamest end to an argument ever, but Nellie left.

Kayla and my other best friend, Ryan, were next. They were my last visitors.

"Y-you could win," Kayla said.

Ryan, however, took a different approach to starting the conversation. "What was all that yelling about?"

"You know." And they did. They both knew.

Kayla tried to change the subject again. "Are you... are you going to stay vegetarian? In the arena, I mean?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I don't see any reason not to stay how I am." Sure, it was a fight to the death. But that didn't mean that I should change... right? Their visit didn't last all that long. They were gone before I knew it. Just. Like. That. I was taken to the train station, and Gavin and I waved and smiled for the cameras. Then we got on to the train.

The train ride wasn't too long, and we got there early the next morning.

It was now time to let the Games begin.

Daring Teenager: Gavin Tryst, District 10 Male Tribute

It was your average day in District Ten, except for the fact that it was the day of the Reaping. There was no way to tell that a dismal event would soon take place-the sky was blue, the sun was shining, and even the square itself, where the event would be held, was decorated to be celebratory. I walked along the streets with my sister, Genevieve, and my mom and dad. It wouldn't be long before the Reaping started, so we were already walking towards the square. Once we reached the sign-in table, I signed my name and walked over to the thirteen-year-old section, where my friends, Dylan and Darryl Rosser, the "twins down the road" were waiting for me.

"Hey," they both greeted, in perfect unison, naturally.

"Nice outfit," Darryl teased. My Reaping outfit, though formal, was slightly degraded by the dirt on it from when we had all been goofing around before we had to leave for the Reaping. The only other part that stuck out was the necklace that I was wearing-it was braided from three different colored fabrics-red from my dad, blue from my mom, and pink from Genevieve.

"Oh, totally," I replied. "Are there any plans for today?" Those twins were always up to something.

"Just for after the Reaping," Dylan said carefully.

"What?" There was no mistaking the... mischievous, looks on both of their faces.

"You know how are families are supposed to have a dinner-type-thing afterwards?"

I nodded.

Darryl finished for him. "Well, we thought it would be cool if there was a little bit of chaos."

"Chaos is good," I said. "Very good. But of what kind?"

"Explosions!" they both blurted out.

"Shh! Don't go telling the whole district about it-whatever it is!" I whisper-shouted.

"Oh; right. Well, let's just say to meet us in our backyard after the Reaping. We'll be setting everything up to go off there."

"Fine." I was still wondering exactly what it was, but I didn't get to think about it for too long, because the mayor began to speak just then. She told the story of Panem, and it was pitifully obvious just how much she hated the Capitol. Then she read the list of past victors, announcing that Tara Gol and Kashton Garrison were going to be the mentors for this year.

Then she introduced our escort, Myra Schnitt. She gave her annual speech, and then said, "There is an announcement for this year!" The escort began to read off of a small card:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their' downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

So the Capitol's always up to something, too.

She called out the name of the first tribute. "Namitha Gol!"

The last name rang a bell. Wasn't the female mentor's last name Gol?

"No!" There was the scream of a young girl from the section adjacent to the one I was in-the one for thirteen-year-old girls. "No!" She repeated herself. And what she did next shocked everyone. "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute! I volunteer!" She was already racing towards the stage. Who was she? Why was she volunteering? Was she insane?

"No," Namitha said to the volunteer. "You're not volunteering for me."

There was something to be admired in that, I thought. How she wouldn't let anyone die for her. But why was she so determined? It finally started to dawn on me that this girl had to be related to her. Was she her sister maybe? She had to be. Whoever she was, she didn't look happy. Not at all.

. "I... I do believe that you can not accept volunteers, if you wish to participate... You couldn't, originally, but I think there was a rule change a few years ago..." our escort said.

That's right, I thought. There has to be some sort of system for things like this. There has to be in the Career districts...

"I'm not accepting her as a volunteer," Namitha said. "I'm going in to the arena."

"No!" The parents were leading off the girl who was trying to volunteer.

"I guess it's decided, then," Myra said. "Namitha Gol will be our female tribute."

Before I could even process anything else, I heard, "Gavin Tryst!"

Was that a joke? You had to be kidding me! I started to walk towards the stage, and there were no volunteers, so the mayor read the Treaty of Treason. Then I shook hands with Namitha, the anthem played, and we were taken to the Justice Building.

My first visitors were my family: mom and dad and Genevieve. My little sister, who was usually all smiles and laughs, looked positively miserable. She wasn't crying, or saying anything, or even particularly frowning, but she still looked unnerved. My parents were doing an okay job of holding it all together. I hoped that I was, too, but I doubted that I was on the outside.

"At least you know how to use knives," dad said. "Not a lot of non-Career tributes can say that."

"True." My dad was a butcher, so I liked to play around with some of his knives, and, occasionally, I'd nab one of 'em and try to find a good use for 'em.

"You have to win," Genevieve said right then, hugging me spontaneously. "Have to. Or else you'll die, because I'll kill you."

It actually got me to laugh as I hugged her back. "Yeah, sure. I'd like to see you have a go at that."

Mom frowned. "I've seen a lot of kids go through my after-school program," she commented. "Not a lot of them would even stand as much of a chance as you have in the Games. If the other districts are like that, all you've got to worry about are the Careers."

I nodded, and there was silence for just a few moments, before I finally said, "Well, the Careers are something to worry about." More silence. The Peacekeepers started to signal that our time was short. After a very corny-sounding final goodbye, my family was gone.

My only other visitors were Darryl and Dylan, both at the same time. Their "goodbye" seemed to go similar to my family's, except for something that Dylan brought up:

"I should've volunteered for you! What was I thinking? I could've volunteered! That girl, Nellie, she had the right idea! And at least she can say that she tried and she's a way better person than I am right now!"

"Oh, shush. I can go in to the arena for myself, thanks." But Darryl just made the same argument, and, eventually, I gave up, and they, too, left. I was taken to the train station, where my district partner and I both waved and smiled for the cameras. Hopefully someone with money would see it soon. Once on the train, everything turned in to a blur. I really only remembered a few strategy conversations with my mentor that I didn't really get a lot out of. Finally, we reached the Capitol, and I remembered what I had thought earlier:

The Capitol was always up to something, and now would be no exception.

Bossy Sibling: November Sky, District 11 Female Tribute

"February!"

"April!"

"May!"

"June!"

"July!"

"August!"

"September!"

"October!"

"December!"

My parents called out the names of all of my siblings, well, just sisters, except for the ones who had already gotten married and left. My eleven sisters and myself were all named after the months of the year.

I was the only one up so far, which was a surprise even though the sun wasn't up yet. Mother liked to have us all up early, particularly on Reaping Day, and, even though I didn't really like it, I did this one thing that she wanted, just to be her favorite. I wasn't really sure if that was working for me or not, though.

"November, will you please set the table for breakfast?" mother asked.

"Why can't February do it?" I whined. "She never does anything other than read!"

"Because you're the one that's already up," father pointed out. "Why is it that you can't set the table?"

"Because I don't want to!" I blurted out.

"November," mother warned. "Just set the table. Please?"

I continued complaining, but set the table for mother, father, myself, and the mob of kids coming down the stairs. I wondered how they'd all gotten ready so fast. Especially for Reaping Day, of all days! Either way, we all sat down at the table as mother served breakfast. There wasn't nearly enough food for all of us, which I didn't even bother to comment on after a few glares from various people.

Finally, mother and father sent us all back upstairs to finish getting ready for the Reaping. I was already ready to go, but I didn't want to be the only person left downstairs, so I went to the

room that I shared with December, October and September and added a small doll to my Reaping outfit, putting it in my pocket.

We set out for the Reaping shortly afterwards, and it was way too hot outside for my liking. Once we finally reached the sign in table, we had to wait for ever before we got to just sign in already! The Reaping took place much too early, in my opinion.

I headed over to the twelve-year-old section without saying 'hi' to any of my other family members who had showed up. There, it was so crowded that I barely got in. It finally got so annoying that I finally grabbed a chair from the audience section (which, no, they didn't provide for us, thank you very much), and stood on it to face everyone in the twelve-year-old section.

"Okay! Everyone! Attention! Hello! I said attention!" I called out over the chaos. Eventually, just about all of them finally shut up. "We need to make some more room over here! Even more people are coming! So, everyone, move as far as you can to your left!" Most of them obeyed, but a few people started to move the wrong way, so I said, "The left, geniuses! The left! Do you know which way the left is?"

"Go all the way to the ropes, people!" I spotted my friend, Rhythm, among them, who helped guide people for me. "Now, move back! Back, back, back! Move it!" Everyone moved as far as they could in to the left-hand corner. "Good! You know how to move backwards. Congratulations, and thank you!" I dramatically leaped off the chair, returning it to its section, and then also joined everyone in the section. My plan worked perfectly, and there was a lot more room for all of us.

The mayor took the stage and talked for much too long a time, telling the story of Panem, reading the list of past victors, announcing this years' mentors: Carla and Simmons. Then he let our escort, Clover Foil, talk for almost an equally long time, and she gave a speech, too. Then, she said, "There's a very, very exciting announcement for these Games!" She began to read:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

The Quarter Quell was just so, so pointless. "Let's pick our tributes!" Before anyone could even register what she was doing, Clover called out, "November Sky!"

Someone had better volunteer, I thought, walking to the stage. But no one did. No one volunteered. No one volunteered and I was going to die. I felt tears fill my eyes and start to fall down my face. Great, now everyone's going to think I'm a little kid or something. But, at that moment, I couldn't have said that I cared all that much what anyone really thought.

"Maine Hofman!" Clover called. I didn't even pay attention to whomever it was that walked to the stage. There were no volunteers. The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, and then we were taken to the Justice Building.

My first visitors were my parents and my siblings that still lived at home. Mother and father and most of my siblings seemed to be having an even harder time than I was holding it together. September and December, especially, out of my sisters, seemed upset. "I sh-should've, should've volunteered! I was supposed to volunteer for you!" September cried. December was too young to even be in the Reaping, at only nine; she hugged my spontaneously, and I actually hugged her back for just a few moments.

"You didn't have to volunteer," I said, contradicting my earlier thoughts. I couldn't have said that I would've wanted any of my sisters to die for me, as much as I had wished for a volunteer. January, February, March, and April were all already too old to volunteer, anyways. "And besides, I'll come back."

"B-but, what if you don't?" June asked, almost uncharacteristically.

"I will, so whatever happens in that case won't happen and doesn't matter," I said decisively. The Peacekeepers were signaling that time was already short. I felt like they didn't even give us the full three minutes that we were supposed to have here. I hugged everyone in my first group of visitors and said goodbye. It brought on fresh tears from everyone, even me. "We all love you," mother and father said at nearly the same time. And then my family just left me there.

My next two rounds of visitors were my sisters January and March. Neither of their visits lasted long-I hadn't been particularly as close to either of them since they got married and moved out. Both of them had even changed their last names-January changed it to Marc and March to Jar. Then my friend, Rhythm, came in. She was my last visitor. Her visit was the shortest out of everyone's-barely existent.

I didn't even pay attention to my time at the train station. Once I got on the train, I went straight to my room. At dinner that night and breakfast the next day, the one thing that I noticed was that Maine seemed talkative. He seemed incapable of sitting next to someone and not talking to them. I would actually join in the conversation, just to try to forget about everything.

But once we pulled in to the Capitol, I knew that I was never going to be able to forget these Games, whether I lived through them or not.

Dignified Conversationalist: Maine Hofman, District 11 Male Tribute

At least there's no work on Reaping Day.

Though that's true, we still got paid on Reaping Day, so I was walking back towards where people lived in District Eleven with my friend, Sigma. We'd just recently left the designated area of the orchards, and it was a long walk back. I didn't mind, though. It was nice outside-it almost always was in our district. We mostly walked in silence, for once. There was nothing to be said. Not on Reaping Day.

Once we actually reached the path, which is where we had to start heading in different directions, we paused. "I'll see you at the Reaping," Sigma said, quietly.

"You'll be on time, right?" It came out like a joke, though it wasn't fully meant to be.

"Yes."

"Good," I replied, before walking in the other direction, towards my house. Sigma headed in the other direction. The final leg of the "journey" was relatively short, or, at least, shorter than the first. At home, the only person waiting for me would be dad. A few years ago, mom would've been, too. But she wouldn't be, now. She was dead-just like a lot of people were.

I came to a stop again once I was in front of where we lived. It resembled a small hut, and was made entirely of wood, out in one of the district's many meadows in the middle of nowhere. Our nearest neighbor was probably nearly a mile away. I walked inside and went immediately to my room to get ready for the Reaping, putting on my best tawny pants and a long-sleeved green shirt. But I rolled up the sleeves on the shirt, even though I knew that dad would disapprove.

We set out for the Reaping, (yet another long walk), and once we got there, I signed in and went over to the fourteen-year-old section. It wasn't really all that long before the Reaping started, and the mayor began to speak. He told the story of Panem, and then read the list of past, District Eleven victors, announcing that Simmons and Carla will be the mentors for this year. Then he introduced our escort, Clover Foil, and she gave her annual speech before saying, "There's a very, very exciting announcement for these Games!"

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

The Quarter Quell... it just had to have a purpose, a deeper reason, right? I thought about it for as long as I could, but nothing came to mind.

"Let's pick our tributes!"

Not Sigma, I thought, and it repeated itself in my mind over and over again until I heard:

"November Sky!"

A small girl walked to the stage from the twelve-year-olds section. I let out a sigh of relief, but felt bad when no one volunteered and November's tears began to flow.

"Maine Hofman!"

Me. I was Maine Hofman. I tried to look confident, which normally came naturally for me, and I walked up to the stage. The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, and then I shook hands with November, the anthem played, and we were taken to the Justice Building.

My first visitor was my dad.

He was even more distant than usual, just watching the wall of the fancy room in the Justice Building.

"Dad?"

He stopped staring at the wall and turned to me. "You have to win. Your mom..." He paused for just slightly too long, so that you could clearly tell that whatever he was going to finish that with wasn't what he wanted to say. "She would want you to."

"Of course she would, dad," I said. "And I will. For mom. And for us. I'll take down the Careers myself if I have to."

This got a laugh out of him. "You always were such a rebel," he commented. He was probably referring to when I stole an apple a while back. Well, tried to. That turned in to a bit of a long story.

But I ended up laughing, too. "Well, I'll be the best victor that District Eleven has ever seen."

"I bet you will be." The Peacekeepers were signaling that our time was short. My dad said goodbye, and then left. My next, and last visitor was Sigma. Tears were in her eyes as well, and her voice shook slightly, unsteadily.

"Y-You'll come back," she said.

I nodded. "Of course."

Sig changed the subject abruptly. "What do you think of t-the... of the Quarter Quell?"

"I think that there's more to it than we think. But... I just don't know what it is... yet."

"I think you're right."

"Really? You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Oh, I think you're crazy. No-I know you're crazy. Everyone is. But, I still think you're right."

The Peacekeepers signaled again, and after a quick hug and goodbye, Sigma, too, left.

At the train station, November still seemed too upset to really be focusing on the cameras. I focused on the people who wanted to ask us some questions, and answered them as best I could.

On the train, I went to my room almost straightaway, and changed in to fresh clothes and washed up. At dinner that night, I tried to make conversation, since no one else was. "So... did you have any training strategies in mind?" I asked, addressing our mentors.

Simmons jumped in. "Let's take it all one step at a time. First thing's first. When we get to the Capitol, get the crowd on your side. You'll need them, even more than you know, in the arena. And..." He faltered for just a second. "Listen to your stylists and prep teams tomorrow. I don't know what they've got planned, but just do what they say, unless it's completely crazy. In that case, you come to me; ya' hear?"

I nodded. November scowled.

"And, we'll see how all of that goes before we start looking at the actual training," Simmons finished.

In the morning, I tried to do as he suggested and get the crowd's favor. There had to be hundreds of people waiting for our train to pull in to the station, and I was already at the window, waving for all of them. I thought November was still off hiding somewhere.

But I, for one, was ready to face the mob of people waiting for us.

Small Flier: Carolina Rowan, District 12 Female Tribute

District Twelve could be described in one word: gray. It really lived up to its industry as

the coal-mining district. But the shade of gray that could describe District Twelve was that same shade as most of the eyes of people from the Seam were. It wasn't exactly light, not like the color that the sky was after a cool, summer rain-but rather, darker-almost like the shadows that were cast by the very vague lighting of a glowing sunset.

Part of the description was just from the setting of the district itself-the layer of coal dust that settled on to everything, particularly in the Seam. Part of it was from the level of certainty-how nothing was definite, not on one side of the gray scale; everything was always in the middle, in the actual gray. And part of it, for that one fateful Reaping Day, was the weather. More specifically, the sky. It, certainly, was gray, though, a lighter shade. It made the whole atmosphere seem damp, dark, and dismal. The three d's.

I was finishing up getting ready for the Reaping inside my small house in the middle of the Seam. My Reaping outfit was a rather simple, plain, long-sleeved dress that used to belong to my mother. It was worn out, surely-just like we were. My mother had added a crimson bow to the ensemble, tying my hair with it. Some might have said that it made me look like a small child, but I disagreed. It complimented my classic Seam appearance and I liked it; I almost always approved of my mother's choices. Except for possibly whom she married, but she regretted it, too, I was sure, so I couldn't really blame her. And we were all stuck like this, now. My dad was... interesting, to say the least, and in nice terms, at that.

He didn't even come to the Reaping with us. Probably passed out, err, "asleep", somewhere. Whether it was even in our house or not didn't matter to me. "Now, Lina, after the Reaping, you'll meet me just at the front edge of the square, right?" mother asked tiredly.

"Yes," I assured her. "I'll meet you there."

"Good," she answered, just as we approached the sign-in table. I signed my name and headed over to the fifteen-year-olds section just as the Reaping began, and the mayor started to tell the story of Panem. After the reading, he read the list of past victors, which was a very short list, and then announced that Kalina and Keira will be the mentors for this year. I found it odd that there were two female mentors for this year.

Then he introduced our escort, Laetitia Leolin, who had to be the strangest looking person I'd ever seen. She had violet hair that went all the way to her waist, and cat-eye glasses. She made her speech, and then said, "There is an announcement for this year!" And then, quietly, more to herself than anyone, though the microphones still caught it, "Now, where'd I put that card?" I couldn't help but giggle to myself. Things seemed to be chaotic wherever our escort was involved. "Ah, here it is!" she exclaimed, a bit louder, and she began to read:

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

It was just another way for the Capitol to torment the districts, in my mind.

And then, in the classic District Twelve tradition that's been around for ever, she said, "Ladies first!" Then our escort walked over to the glass Reaping ball that had all of the girls' names in it.

"Carolina Rowan!"

No, no, no! That wasn't possible! This wasn't happening! It couldn't have been me!

But it was me. I was the girl who was going to die for our district this year. I felt tears fill my eyes for the first time in what must have been a long time-I wasn't really a crier. I started to walk towards the stage, feeling like I was having some sort of out-of-body experience, that I was paralyzed and couldn't move, couldn't breathe...

"Mist Stainsleew!"

The name of my district partner rang out through the square. I didn't know who he was. I'd never heard of him in my whole life. Yet, now, we were going off to die together. Going off to our deaths...

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, as there were no volunteers. Of course, there wasn't. This was District Twelve, the district that I'd always been so proud to be from, despite everything... We weren't the Careers. We weren't the tributes that came home. I looked for my mom in the crowd for reassurance, but I found her frozen with fear and worry. It wasn't the sense of safety that I'd been looking for.

Then I shook hands with Mist, finding his grip oddly strong, and then the anthem played right before we were taken to the Justice Building.

My first visitor was my mom. She gave me a big, tight hug the second that she walked in. We were both a mess by that point. We'd always been part of a family of three-but, truly, it'd always been just us. Just my mom and me. Maybe that was why we were both so unstable now.

"You'll win," she told me. "You'll come back home. You'll make me even prouder of you."

"B-but w-what if I d-don't? What if I... what if I d-don't c-come b-back? If I don't m-make it h-home?" I hated how much my voice was shaking, but I couldn't help it. It wasn't every day that I found out that I was going to die, after all!

"You will," mother insisted. "You're a strong girl, Carolina. You've always shown me that. And you'll need all of that strength to get through these Games."

"B-but what if I c-can't?"

"You will win. You have a family to come back to, a whole district of people that'll be

waiting."

The Peacekeepers were showing that our remaining time together was short. Mother hugged me again. "I love you. Good luck."

"I love you, too." More tears ran down my face as she left.

York was next. He was technically my best friend, and helped me get some more food sometimes. I rely on him-we relied on each other. I'd always felt safer at his house, when father was in one of his moods...

"You have to come back," he said. "Lina, there are people that care about you here. Your parents, and me, and even my family. I'm sure that there are others, too."

I shook my head. "No one else even knows me. And my dad... he doesn't... he doesn't care about me. About any of us."

"I think he does," York practically interrupted. "He just has an odd way of showing it sometimes."

I didn't believe him, but I so badly wanted to that I went along with it.

"Here," he said, handing me something. "You can use this as your token. For good luck." His tone implied that it was supposed to mean something more, something that he didn't say out loud. I hoped that it did, anyway. Maybe it was just me seeing too far in to it. In my hand now was a leather cord with a silver key dangling from it. I put it around my neck like a necklace, with some help from York.

"Thank you," I barely managed to choke out as a whisper.

The Peacekeepers were making those signals again.

"I guess this is goodbye," I said.

"No. We'll see each other again. I know it." York's answer surprised even me.

"I sure hope so, York." I sure hope so...

He left, and I didn't have any other visitors, so I was taken to the train station, where I was too miserable to smile for the cameras, for once, and Mist just seemed... out of it. Our escort finally got us on to the train, and I just disappeared in to my room for as much of the ride as I could, barely coming out to enjoy the Capitol food.

But once we get to the Capitol, I know that I can't hide from the truth, from these Games. Not anymore. Not ever again.

Dedicated Worker: Mist Stainsleew, District 12 Male Tribute

In the world of community homes, nothing ever took long. Nothing was a big deal. Nothing mattered. It was all informal, every day just another day, every night-just another night. There was never something that stood out. Except for possibly being sent off to your death. A disruption, in essence, of this routine pattern. I remembered nearly everything about that Reaping Day, something I rarely did. I was not so great at remembering things.

What was there to remember, really?

But I do remember walking with the group from the community home of District Twelve to the square, signing in, walking over to the seventeen-year-old section. I had no friends waiting there for me-all of my family had died in a mining accident, and I only had one friend, who wouldn't be attending the Reaping. A small bird that waited for me every day just outside the coal mines and sang for me. I loved working in the mines, as odd as it sounded-it was a nice distraction, not that I needed more of them.

I did see that bird, though. First it was just a glimpse of a black and white wing overhead, but, then, it seemed to be approaching me. It landed on the rope near me, silently, just sitting there, and I smiled.

That small bird was always something that could make me smile.

But no one was smiling, now. Not a single person. We had been one of the last large groups to get to the Reaping, and the mayor began shortly afterwards. I was not paying much attention to what he said, instead focusing on my own thoughts. It was certainly not a pleasant day-it was cold and rainy; the square seemed run down...

I caught the names Kalina and Keira at one point, and assumed that they were the mentors for this year, because I thought that was the tradition, announcing them right before I caught the next name, of our escort, I believe: Laetitia Leolin. She was talking in a ridiculous Capitol accent for a while, before announcing, "There is an announcement for this year!" She continued, a bit under her breath, "Now, where'd I put that card? Ah, here it is!" Then she started to read off of it.

"On the four-hundred-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that false preparation was their downfall in the war, this Quarter Quell will be twenty years early, and, to be released from the arena, the final tribute must be in possession of five special objects that will be hidden throughout the arena. These objects will be made obvious once the Games begin."

A Quarter Quell? Now I was really confused...

Then she said, "Ladies first!" I'd heard some of the workers at the community home say it a lot.

"Carolina Rowan!"

A girl who looked like she was also from the Seam walked up to the stage, very shakily.

"Mist Stainsleew!"

Somone near me almost instantly nudged me before I could even respond. "That's you," they whispered to me, almost harshly. "Go!" I'd never met that person, never heard of them. From their appearance as I glanced at them one last time, I couldn't even tell if they were Seam or merchant, poor or rich. Nothing. Why were they so insistent on me going to the stage? Did they just want to make sure that it wasn't them? It seemed reasonable, but... they seemed oddly intent on it. I chose to ignore it.

I went up the steps and took my place. No one volunteered, for either of us. The mayor proceeded to read the Treaty of Treason, and then I shook hands with Carolina, finding her grip very oddly weak, and music played. I liked the music-it reminded me of that little bird that waited outside the coal mines.

We were taken in to a different, fancy building, in different rooms. I was left there, alone, for a long time, until some people in very clean uniforms came to take me to the train station. During the car ride there, I just kept looking out the window, looking at the district zooming past us at a higher speed than I'd ever gone before. It was still a dismal day, and raindrops splattered against the windows-plop, plop, plop.

I got out as someone opened the door for me, and then we had to stand at the train station for a while before we got on to the train itself. There, it was much warmer and dry, and there were fresh clothes to change in to. I took a nap for a while, though my sleep wasn't restful, and then we ate dinner.

There was more food than I could have ever, ever, possibly imagined. Afterwards, it was all I could do to watch the other Reapings with everyone else and play a bit with my mockingjay pendant. I wasn't interested in talking to anyone-I rarely was, so after dinner, I just left and tried to sleep. It didn't work.

In the morning, there were a lot of people with cameras and notebooks waiting for us at another train station in the Capitol, cheering and screaming and waving. I looked out the window again, getting lost in my train of thought. A train of thought, if anyone would even get that joke. People didn't get my jokes a lot. But there were tons of them just outside the windows, now.

I watched all of the people out the window, thinking that if I had to introduce myself to one of them, I'd probably say something along the lines of: "Hi. I'm Mist Stainsleew. And I'm going to die."

Gray Dresses and Ice Cream: Samantha Caim, District 2 Female Tribute

I watched as my stylist, December, hit a button on the arm of the chair she was sitting in and a table rose up from beneath the floor. On it were more delicacies than I'd ever dreamed of, even living in District Two.

"Go ahead and eat," December offered kindly. "No sense in heading out to the opening ceremonies on an empty stomach."

I actually managed to laugh. "I guess not," I replied, still eyeing various items on the table. My breath caught when I saw one of the items. There was nothing special about it, but that was what made it catch my attention. It was only ice cream. But it brought back so many memories...

Grandfather and I used to go out and get ice cream after training sometimes. On a hot summer day, Lily and Daniel might have tagged along. I'd always gotten chocolate. It was just perfect after a long, early-morning training session that was held to get it out of the way before the sun broiled us all. The ice-cream shop nearest to my grandfather's house was one of the cheeriest places in town, but rarely that busy. Maybe that was why we liked it. It was always just... ours.

But now it probably wouldn't be. Not if I didn't go home. And I knew that I had to.

"Something wrong?" December asked. Even through her Capitol accent, you could tell that she genuinely cared.

I shook my head, blinking back a sudden rush of tears at the memory. "No," I said, attempting a smile. "Just something that my grandfather used to tell me about ice-cream, that's all."

December looked confused, but smiled nonetheless. "What did he say?"

My attempt at smiling suddenly wasn't so pathetic. "He always said that ice-cream was like life. It melted if you didn't go for it fast enough, but it was always waiting for you if you had enough sense to put it in the freezer."

"And what did that mean to you?" It almost sounded like a therapy session, which, maybe, it sort of was.

"It meant... it meant that you always just had to go for it, take the chances. And... that if you had sense to find a way to make life wait for you to catch up to it, it would. But I don't know quite how that last part would work."

"You'll figure it out."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

We continued to eat lunch, but for that whole time, I didn't once go near the ice cream. There would be plenty of it in the freezer when I got home.

A bit of the remaining sunlight in the distance shined its way through the room on to the mirror, and I blinked, looking away from it as it blinded me.

"What do you think?" I heard December's voice quietly from behind me. I turned slightly to examine the full outfit in the mirror. It was a charcoal-gray dress that reached to the floor, the part towards the bottom seeming to be swept to the side. The scar on my arm was creatively covered with an armband, and I was wearing a large diamond necklace that even the richest girls in my school would be jealous of. My hair was tightly braided and put up in a bun with even more small diamonds in it.

"It's beautiful," I said, turning again. "And just perfect."

"I had a good feeling you'd say that. Can you tell me how it relates to District Two?"

"Um... it's gray, I guess. Like, for mining? And, the diamonds, too?"

December nodded. "Very good. Did you have your own plan for how to act on the chariots?"

"Well... no."

December nodded again. "That's what I thought. All of the Career stylists were working together to try and come up with what could be a common... attitude, for the Career districts."

"And?"

"Friendly."

"Really? It doesn't seem very... Career-like."

"Exactly. It isn't supposed to. People don't want to sponsor the Careers anymore, Samantha. They're tired of the same old tributes winning and always being the best. We thought that we'd try a slightly different angle."

"I guess I could try it," I commented.

"I'm sure that it will suit you," December said, almost flatly, her accent suddenly not so obvious. "But, you have to remember that some of your fellow Careers might be a bit... hesitant. Don't be too hard on them."

"I won't be."

"Good. Now, go down to the stable, will you? I have to go address your prep team."

I did, finding the clothes easy enough to move around in. I was pretty used to them from various parties and such. So I hurried down the stairs to meet up with my fellow Careers.

There they are, I thought. Marco, Chenille, Fabian, Ionia, Arsin...

I was the last one out of the pack to get there, though as an alliance, we seemed to be some of the earlier tributes. Without hesitation, I walked over to the group. "Hey," I greeted, as casually as I could, pretending that we wouldn't be trying to kill each other in a few days.

I got a few responses back, mostly 'hi' or even a 'nice to meet you' from Ionia. I decided that I might have liked her the best out of the others. "Love your dress," I commented, adressing Ionia.

"Thanks," she said, looking down at it slightly. It was clearly meant to represent the ocean waves of District Four, seeming to shift and move, particularly when Ionia was walking around, and it couldn't have been more brilliantly designed.

"So..." Arsin started, "Are we going to be having the typical alliance, this year, then?" He was almost oddly blunt about it; I hadn't expected it to be brought up quite like that, or so soon! It was only the opening ceremonies!

"Fine by me," I said, the first to respond.

"Sure," Ionia said.

"Mentor would kill me if I didn't agree," Chenille put in.

"Okay," Fabian said. "And... same here, on the mentor thing."

"Guess we wouldn't be the Careers without an alliance." Marco's comment made everyone stop for just a second. It was such a good point, even if it wasn't inentional. Who were we without faithful allies by our side? "What?" Marco snapped, noting that everyone was watching him.

"Nothing, nothing," several of us said in almost-unison, under our breaths.

"We should get in to our chariots now," Ionia said, just as an announcement came over the loud speaker:

"Will all tributes please take their places? Repeat: All tributes, please take your places. Thank you."

I wondered how Ionia had known that we had to move, but didn't dwell on it long. I climbed in to my chariot beside Marco, and got ready to smile for the crowd.

Of course, I thought. Smile for all of the people who want you dead.

What Time Is It Where There Is No Time?: Callia Marshan, District 3 Female Tribute

The crowd was cheering, the tributes were waving, and everywhere, cameras were flashing.

Somewhere in District Three, my family was watching me. I could almost close my eyes and picture them now: my mother and father, Sathia, Vince, my aunt and uncle. They'd all be huddled around the television, watching the opening ceremonies. I wondered what time it was in District Three right now, if it was early evening here in the Capitol. But I didn't dwell on it too long. What was the point of time in these Games? In the arena, it didn't really matter. There almost was no time. Of course, it was there. But it was only in the background, lurking in the shadows. Like I'd been a lot of the time.

It took some effort, but now, I managed to smile for the crowd. Wave, even. At least my outfit wasn't as bad as it could've been-it was a simple, black jumpsuit with "wires" all over it. My mother wouldn't have liked the outfit too much, if she'd had a say in it, but she was probably proud of how I was acting around the cameras. I hoped she was proud of me...

But I might've never known.

So I just continued-smile, wave. Wave, smile. Had it always really been this easy?

When the ceremonies were over, and we reached the end of our journey what almost felt like hours later, I climbed off of the chariot carefully. Newcomb got out on the other side, and we were sucked in to a vat of praise and other commentary from everyone waiting for us-our stylists, mentors, and escort.

"It would've looked better if you'd just worn your contacts!" Dom, my stylist, whined. "And if you'd stopped being so hunched over for once!"

"Well-" I started to talk, only to be interrupted.

"What's done is done," he sighed. "Shall we go back to the Training Center?" Without really answering, we all did. I was given a few minutes of peace in my room, which was even better than the train. I immediately pulled my hair back in to a ponytail and washed off every sign of a Capitol alteration on me, even just the simple layers of make-up. Then I cleaned my glasses, quickly putting them back on. For dinner, which I had the feeling wasn't going to be all that formal, I changed in to sweatpants and a t-shirt that was slightly big on me.

By that time, people were already coming to get me, so I headed to the dining room. I was the last person there-everyone was already at the table. They all turned when I walked in, and I suddenly felt even more self-conscious and felt myself turn slightly pink in the face as I sat down, silently, next to Newcomb. I noted that he seems to have found an adaptation of what he wore to the Reaping-a rather dark set of a suit-jacket type article and slacks. It suited him best, in my opinion. Not that I know anything about fashion, of course. I could literally hear Dom tut at my appearance as I sat down.

Dinner is a worthless combination of small-talk and food. I let myself enjoy the edible part of the meal, savoring each and every bite, and tuned out the talking unless someone directly addressed me. Newcomb seemed happy to jump in, but I didn't know about half of the words he said, which was unusual for me, to be honest, and most of his "normal" conversing seemed to be just between him and his stylist, anyway.

I caught some talk of strategies and tried to tune in again. But it was mostly just Alya talking from the mentor pair, and even if she was my mentor, I wasn't listening all that much. I was only half-listening.

After the last course, we watched the recap of the whole opening ceremonies. Not a lot of tributes had particularly stunning outfits this year. It was just your usual lot. But that didn't stop Dom, Collon, and Alya from making their comments, naturally.

Newcomb and I finally managed to escape from the adults and we started to head back to our rooms, not really saying anything. But with just the two of us, I suddenly found that the silence seemed slightly awkward, the hallway just a bit too long. Newcomb seemed to sense it, too, and broke the silence. "So... did you have any ideas about allies in the arena yet?"

"Allies?" I repeated, softly.

Newcomb nodded. "Because, you know..." He trailed off, not uncertainly, but rather, hesitantly. "I was just thinking that, um..."

"That...?" I prompted.

"That we could, uh, form an alliance."

"Yes, I guess we could," I said, starting to warm up to the idea slightly. Maybe I'd even been thinking it myself, and decided to say so: "I was just thinking the same thing, actually."

"Really?" Newcomb sounded almost eager, and even a bit surprised.

"Really," I assured him. "Allies?"

Newcomb stuck out his hand, and we shook on the deal. "Definitely. Allies it is. Should we name ourselves?"

"What?"

"Should we come up with a name for our alliance? Like how the tributes from one, two, and four call themselves 'the Careers'?"

"Well, did you have an idea for a name?" I asked curiously.

"I was thinking... 'The Alliance of the Mockingjays'."

"You certainly had all of this planned out," I laughed. "I like it, though. Any particular inspirations for it?"

Newcomb said, "No; not really. The first part is obvious, and then I was just thinking about how mockingjays are free and they can fly and... and, do whatever they want, to really!"

"Yeah," I agreed. "I guess so." I paused for just a second, and then said, "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning." As I started to walk down the hallway, I called back to him. "'Night!"

"Goodnight."

I fell asleep that night, and my dreams were scattered with the small, black-and-white birds.

The Alliance of the Mockingjays...

A Sea of Memories and Fish: Arsin Locke, District 4 Male Tribute

Friendly.

As soon as my stylist, Alexius, told me that that was supposed to be my angle for the opening ceremonies, I knew that it was the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. I wouldn't pull that off in a million years, and I didn't want to, even if I could. Some of the other Careers for this year, now, maybe they could. They were pathetic in the great line of Career tributes, but they could pull it off. I couldn't--I wasn't them. I wasn't pathetic.

I walked out in to the stable, Alexius and the prep team having faded in to the blur of a background. I was glad for their absence; it wasn't like I was some little kid that needed to be escorted everywhere by some Capitol airheads.

Speaking of airheads, or, well, not really, just people doing air-headed things, Arbenia came to my mind. What she had done at the Reaping was reckless, and probably destructive in terms of her life. I'd been planning to propose to her when I won, but now... I just hoped that she'd be alive for it.

The thought was wiped out of my mind when I spotted some of the other, so-called "Careers" over by the line of chariots. The only ones to arrive at that point were Chenille, Fabian, Marco, and, (to my great disappointment), Ionia. Okay, so, it was everyone else except for Samantha. She seemed even more naive than Ionia did.

I walked over to them. Before I could even say anything, (which was quite a feat, considering that this was me involved), Chenille smirked, "Nice outfit."

No one else dared to comment after the glare that I shot her, no matter just how much I agreed. It was a black, skin-tight wetsuit, with vertical stripes of sea green running vertically up the sides. Not Alexius' best work.

Fabian just seemed amused at her outburst, and it was hard to tell what Ionia or Marco were thinking. "Well, you, on the other hand, Chenille," Fabian started, "look positively stunning. Don't you just love the some-what matching, themed effect?"

Chenille scowled at him. "We're not matching."

"Ah, but that's just what you say, my dearest district partner. I am dressed as a king! And you, as a princess."

"I'm not a princess! What am I, five?" She was dressed in a spaghetti-strap, white dress that had small white jewels sewn in cascading down from the neckline. It wasn't a perfect 'princess' outfit, but I could see where Fabian was coming from.

"Shade would claim differently."

"Who?"

I might've been hallucinating, but I thought I heard Fabian sigh. "My sister--Shade," he explained, a bit hurriedly, with a new tone of worry in his voice.

"What, is she dead or something?" I asked, coming in to their conversation.

"No," Fabian said, his smirk starting to come back. "Just staying with a friend of mine, Devena, while I'm in the Games--to avoid my dad. He's... interesting."

"Who's she stayin' with, again? That your girlfriend?" I taunted.

"No," he said, more firmly now. But in a mumble, he added, "My ex-girlfriend, if you have to know."

Just about everyone burst out laughing right then. Except for Ionia. Gosh, that girl needed a sense of humor. She wasn't really giving me a lot to work with.

"Oh, did she break your heart--or was it the other way around?" Chenille teased.

"No, we're friends now, if you didn't catch that," Fabian defended. "There was no heart-breaking, romantic moments, or straight-out drama involved."

"But you love drama!" Chenille blurted out, as if she'd known him her whole life. Which, for all I knew, could've been true.

Then we were all, (well, almost all--thank you, Ionia), laughing again, just as Samantha walked over. "Hey," she greeted, casually. It seemed to confirm just how naive she really was, but the general response was 'hi' or 'hey'--except from Ionia, whose response was somewhere along the lines of 'nice to meet you'. I resisted the urge to tell her that this wasn't the place to be polite.

"Love your dress," Samantha commented to Ionia.

"Thanks," Ionia replied, watching the ground. Her outfit was better than mine; I had to give that to her stylist. It modeled the ocean in District Four, moving and swirling on its own.

"So..." I started, changing the subject, "Are we going to be having the typical alliance, this year, then?"

"Fine by me," Samantha said, surprisingly the first person to answer me.

"Sure," Ionia said. Was it just me, or was she positively glaring at me while she said it?

"Mentor would kill me if I didn't agree," Chenille put in. I almost wanted to laugh at the thought of Chenille actually doing something her mentor said.

"Okay," Fabian said. "And... same here, on the mentor thing." Same mental comment for

him, too, really.

"Guess we wouldn't be the Careers without an alliance," Marco said. We all stared at him--he'd barely spoken at all, and now, he had a point. What?" he snapped.

"Nothing, nothing," most of us muttered.

"We should get in to our chariots now," Ionia said, just as an announcement came over the loud speaker:

"Will all tributes please take their places? Repeat: All tributes, please take your places. Thank you."

I hated how she'd known exactly when we had to go, and I had to admit that it was sort of eerie, really. But I just got in to the chariot and prepared myself to try and pull off the stupidest Career angle ever invented. Ever.

The Power of Allies: Charity Reed, District 8 Female Tribute

The Remake Center was huge, but, in perspective, the room I was in was small. The walls and tile-floors were a plain white, and the lighting was very bland and unflattering.

My stylist, Evelyn, and prep team--consisting of Dot, Yetit, and Iliana--circled me, making the final modifications to my outfit for the chariot rides. It was a rather simple dress that consisted of what had to be sheer hundreds of needles, blunt, of course. The outfit fell just above my knees. It wasn't quite a work of sheer genius on Evelyn's part, but the District Eight outfits rarely were. I couldn't precisely say that she reminded me of my mother, but she sort of did, in an odd way.

"Perfect!" Iliana squealed, just at the same time as Yetit did. I'd gotten the impression that the two were very good friends from the second that I'd been dragged in to the Remake Center. Neither of them seemed particularly bright, but, then again, neither did anyone on my styling team.

"Yes, just positively brilliant!" Yetit added. "Really! It looks great on you! Very complimenting."

"Oh, thank you," I said, accepting the relative compliment. My voice came across as a bit oddly sweet, and I couldn't decide if I liked it like that or not. But now wasn't a time for finding my voice.

Dot was silent--he didn't seem to really care about anything regarding my styling. Or anything else, really, for that matter. He just seemed like the type to not care.

"Let's get you down to the stable so that everyone can see it!" Evelyn exclaimed.

"Alright," I said. All of their enthusiasm was a bit irritating, but I went along with it, trying to get/keep them all on my side. I'd need all of the support that I could get in the arena, no matter what, really.

They escorted me down to the stable, which I always thought was my escort's job, but then disappeared at my command, which was in the form of a nicely timed glare.

Kyler was already sitting in our chariot, which was clearly labeled 'District Eight'. I reluctantly sat down next to him. "Hey," he said. He wasn't even facing me, but was watching something off in the distance, closer to the audience.

"What're you lookin' at?" I asked him.

He finally turned to me. "Nothing," he shrugged, smiling. "Just all of the cameras that are already on us right now, in here."

"There are cameras in here?" I asked, mostly just for confirmation, already looking around suspiciously. I was so used to noticing these things that I was surprised that they had slipped right under my nose.

"Yeah," he said. "They like to show tributes' conversations later on in the Games, sometimes. And, of course, make sure that we're not saying anything... rebellious. There are always cameras on us, Charity."

I was about to question his nerve in bringing up anything "rebellious", when the music began to play, and the conversation was lost in sea of music notes. Just as we pulled out in to the circle a few minutes later, I noted that Kyler wasn't particularly doing a lot, but he smiled for all of the cameras, just like he had at the train. I remembered how I hadn't, and for the sake of survival, I gave it a try--just smiling. Not waving or even moving. Just smiling.

It probably wasn't enough to buy over sponsors, but it was all that they were going to get. If they still didn't want to sponsor me, than that would just be another mistake on their record for them.

The ceremonies seemed to just be a bit of a blur, where I was tired of smiling after a while. It's sort of hard to concentrate on something when you know that you might die in a few days.

When we got off at the other end, Ash was the first person to greet us, even before our stylists. "You guys were great!" he encouraged. "Not too naive, but not too arrogant-looking either. Perfect for District Eight. Nice work."

He whisked us to the Training Center, where dinner was served almost instantly after we arrived, giving little time for things like changing out of our costumes or relaxing. But I managed to enjoy all of the food that was served before the recap of all of the chariot rides.

During the recap, I only noted the appearances of a few tributes. The Careers, who were for the most part poorly dressed, but acting friendly. I tried to find their motivation, but come up blank, for once. The girl from District Six, whose stylists worked a miracle on. Her scars were gone, her face and hair actually remarkably clean. Kyler and me. And then the boy from 12 whose outfit was smoking. No, not in that way--as in, literally.

Afterwards, I went straight to my room and changed in to pajamas before I went to bed, but I didn't end up sleeping. I thought of everything else. Of home and my family and Garret and my alliance with Kyler and training tomorrow and the Careers and my plan. After a while, I could only really be deep for so long, and my thoughts turned to the history that I was studying before the Reaping. It was almost just so relevant now. To the Games, and to everything around me. But I was surrounded by the Games. It was all that was left in my life. Probably all that would ever be left in my life.

Because that's what these Games did. They took over, they controlled, they intimidated. They were like your average Career tribute. Except even more deadly.Victor of the Opening Ceremonies: Vitality Falon, District 5 Female Tribute

My prep team deemed me "acceptable", and my stylist went ahead and got me in to my

costume. Once I caught a glance of myself in the mirror, I gasped.

I was a robot.

You know, some people always had really awful opening ceremonies outfits. (But mine probably topped them all.)

I was a robot.

Who, in their right mind, dressed their tribute in a robot outfit? My stylists, apparently, (though they were far from being 'in their right minds').

Jesse, my stylist, was offering encouragement, as I now knew that he had a habit of doing. But it was hard to focus on any praise while I was suffocating in a costume of an electronic device. Still, I accepted their compliments before heading down to the stable. It seemed a bit... demeaning, to be launched in to the opening ceremonies, and the Capitol itself, from a stable. Which, quite frankly, smelled, from all of the horses.

The only people that seemed to really actually like the horses were the District Ten pair, (which I guess sort of made sense, really). What with them being from District Ten and all. Livestock, naturally.

I couldn't help but look around to see if there was anyone who looked worse than I did. And, I'll admit, some of these costumes were pretty unimpressive. The classic tree from an orchard for the District 11 girl (and she did not look happy about that). Another tree for the District Seven boy, though that was in the form of some sort of weird body paint.

I finally settled for just climbing in to the chariot next to Tal to avoid any more embarrassment (than necessary, since all of Panem was going to see us in just a minute). I thought that I would love all of the attention from the opening ceremonies, but I guess I overestimated my stylists (or underestimated their stupidity).

"I'd comment on your outfit," I told Tal, "but I can't really see it because of my costume."

Tal just sort of nodded, before saying, "Our stylists are just great, huh?"

"Yeah. Impressive." I knew that he was being sarcastic, but I just wasn't in the mood to hear it from anyone else. "I'm not exactly the 'victor' of the opening ceremonies, I guess," I said. "And neither are you, from what you've said."

"Well, my veins are painted all over me, so I'm not all that higher than you are," he informed me.

"Good to know," I replied.

The music started to play, cutting off our conversation. Since we're the District Five

tributes (District Five being one of the lower-numbered districts), it wasn't long before we were pulling out of the stable. I tried to smile and wave for the crowd, even though they couldn't see my smile through the costume's mask, and my waving was weighed-down and awkward. I noted that Tal did, too, (from what I could see, at least), and couldn't help but feel bad for just a moment. He was still just a kid, really.

But weren't we all?

The opening ceremonies were all a blur (as in, literally, since I could barely see any more than just that--a blur). So I was relieved when we finally got to go to dinner at the Training Center. The dinner itself was nice, (even coming from me), and very elegant... classy. I rather liked it.

We watched the recap of the ceremonies, which were just as awful as I expected. Most of the kids just looked pathetic. Especially me, for once.

I finally got to go to bed, but I didn't sleep. I couldn't say that I'd been expecting to. I was still thinking. I was wondering if my mom had seen me, and what she would've thought about my stylists. There were all of my thoughts about training the next day, and if my mentor was going to attempt to attack me again or not, and how the private session with the Gamemakers would go, and the interviews, and, of course, the Games...

Finally, I couldn't take it any more. I needed something. I needed... air. Something.

I thought of where I could go. I could stay here, in my room. I could lurk around the District Five floor. I could go up to the tribute's lounge. (It was introduced just a few years ago, located on the top floor of the Training Center.) Yes, I could go there. That sounded like a good idea.

So I snuck out towards the staircase, and headed up, not even bothering with the elevator--I'd be faster this way.

The lounge wasn't empty. It was far from it, even though it was two o'clock in the morning. Who was there, who was there...? Tal was already there, too, (so I wasn't the first District Five tribute to think of the idea that night). Link, the District Seven boy, was there was well... filming things? The District Nine boy, the District Ten pair, and Maine. Seven out of twenty-four tributes were up and in the tribute's lounge at two o'clock in the morning. Oh, yeah, that totally didn't seem suspicious. Not at all.

I wasn't sure what I really wanted there, so I went for getting the number one thing that I probably shouldn't have gotten, (considering the time)--coffee. Yes, there was seriously a coffee machine set up. Well, I guess I couldn't ask for too much more than that!

Some of the tributes were talking. Maine, mostly. Link was... interviewing. Tal and the District Nine and District Ten boys were talking. The other District Ten tribute (...Nemita? Was that her name?) was just lurking, as if she didn't want to miss out on any action, but wasn't

particularly social, either. She looked like her district partner may have dragged her up here.

I just lingered around the edges as well, sipping my coffee. There was no way that I was going to fall back asleep now, but I didn't care anymore. If for any reason I happened to die, I didn't want to sleep away what may be my last few days.

Why Did It Have to be Us?: Tod Barringer, District 6 Male Tribute

I believe that we'd been over the fact that everyone deserves to die, so there was no need for repetition. But by the time that my prep was almost over, I was starting to wish that my stylist and prep team were fellow tributes, so that I could settle on the thought that I'd be able to just kill them off in a few days. But they weren't, and that just wasn't right, now, was it? No, it was only us, we, the tributes, that were going off to our highly deserved deaths.

My stylist, who I think was named Viola DeMesselini, which was really a stupid name when you thought about it, at least to me, anyways, apparently couldn't make up her mind about if she wanted to be an official part of my prep or not. She'd come in to the room, linger for a few minutes, usually babbling about something in a ridiculous Capitol accent, and then leave again, only to return about half an hour later.

She went through that cycle approximately six times, which meant that my prep time took an obnoxious total of three whole hours. Whoever gave them the time to take that long with it absolutely deserved to die, possibly even more than the average person.

Finally, they got to getting me dressed in my costume, though I'd never thought that I'd say that before. My costume consisted of a black leotard with gold and silver lightning streaks. It was definitely... interesting.

I was almost thankful when I got down to the stable, just to avoid the comments of my stylist and prep team. Once I was there, I looked around and tried to sort tributes in to categories: first of all, people who deserved to die, which included everyone, and then bloodbath tributes and potential competition, and people who I was undecided about.

The District Two boy, who was dressed in a typical Peacekeeper’s outfit, looked like he might have a shot at being the victor. I didn't bother looking at the tributes from the last few districts--ten, eleven, and twelve--they were almost always bloodbaths. The District Eight boy also might've had a chance, but his costume already made him look dead, as if he'd already received his fate.

Finally, I just got in to the chariot next to Kizzy, who was wearing a dress with sparking wires and lights on it. It wasn't completely awful, at least, but it wasn't as good as it could've been. I didn't know what her styling team was like, but they probably deserved to die, too.

"District Seven is pathetic," Kizzy commented. And they were, I had to admit that she was right, which was irritating. They were both trees, as always.

Before I could even answer, the anthem started to blast overhead, and the opening ceremonies began, much to my dismay.

Moving on: dinner was uneventful. You might want to know why. Well, good question, person who deserves to die. It would be because I was the only tribute there. Let's back up a little bit: this is what really happened--

After the opening ceremonies, when Kizzy and I where allowed to just roam around our

floor until dinner, she came in to my room--without permission, naturally, which is why I just scowled at first.

"Could I ask a favor of you?" Her tone seemed innocent enough, and she almost sounded like Lucy, but she was glaring at me in a way that made me not want to argue with her.

"Depends on what's in it for me," I answered after a bit of thought.

"Any weapon. Your choice. To hide and take in to the arena with you." Her tone was flat, now. Less innocent, which made sense.

"You're crazy," I decided on at last. "How are you going to get it?"

"Hold on a second," she said. "Let me explain. I'm not letting the Capitol baby me for the whole time I'm here, so I'm going to try and get my own food--stealing the edible plants from the training station. So, if you cover for me at dinner, I'll grab you a weapon while I'm down there."

"How in Panem are you going to get in the training room unnoticed?"

"It's not locked, and there's a back way in. I already had two seconds to sneak down and check. But sorting through the plants might take longer, which is why I need you to agree to this."

"Fine," I said. "Get me a knife and I'll say that you're not feeling good and taking a nap."

"Fine," she agreed.

I didn't know how I'd hide the knife that she got me, but I'd think of something. It would be a huge advantage to have in the arena.

So, at dinner I gave my cover story, and that was that. Mrs. Twine (as she apparently had to be called), earned her way on to my "kill when given opportunity" list when she continually insisted on going to see how sick Kizzy was because she "dared to miss a potential opportunity to interact with her".

Later that night, when Kizzy managed to sneak back up to our floor, she left the sleek weapon in my room before disappearing again. I turned it over in my left hand several times, noting that it did, in fact, stop shaking. I slipped it in to an empty drawer by the bed in my room, and my thoughts of my district partner changed slightly.

And so I moved Kizzy Ericssen from my "undecided" list to my list of those who might kill me.

Help From the Innocent: Ondrew Thyte, District 9 Male Tribute

"Cala, please! You just need to get in to the chariot!" I pleaded. It was the day of the opening ceremonies, and we were both already in our costumes--traditional hunting outfits. I was trying to keep my promise and keep Cala a bit under control, but, now, she only backed away from me, watching the air around me like I was going to kill her on the spot or something. "Cala!"

She mumbled something to herself that even I couldn't hear, even though we were the only people to arrive yet. Why was she so bent on not getting in to the chariot? She wasn't moving any closer to it, actually backing away from it. Wasn't this her stylist's job or something? Or at least her mentor's? Why was I the only person here? You had to be kidding me with this!

In the few moments I was trying to think of a solution, I noticed that Cala had gotten in to the chariot. What the...?

I finally noticed the person who was talking to her. It was the girl from District Twelve... Caroline? Cara-lynn? Something like that? She had to be from Twelve, though; there was no doubt about that. Black hair, gray eyes, olive skin, and dressed in a poorly made coal miner's outfit that didn't even fit her small, bird-like frame.

"It's alright," she, whoever it was, told Cala. "You just have to stay in this chariot for a while. Here, sit down; it'll be more comfortable that way. And you'll remember to smile, right? That's what... Kane, would want you to do, okay? Well, good luck!"

And, get this, you'll love it--Cala was nodding and doing what this girl said.

But before she could go back over to her own chariot, I stopped her. "Wait a second--who are you?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm Lina," she said quietly.

"How'd you know about Kane and Cala's being schizophrenic and all?"

"She kept saying something about Kane when I tried to help you get her in to the chariot," Lina explained. "And I didn't know that she was schizophrenic, necessarily--just that you needed help."

I nodded. "Well... thanks, I guess." Then I laughed, "My own attempts were pretty pathetic, huh?"

Lina laughed, too. "Not too bad," she answered. "You just needed a different strategy, that's all." And then she walked over to the District Twelve chariot just as some more tributes started to arrive.

I sure could've used some of that help later, though. Our mentors were able to help out Cala until after the recap of the opening ceremonies, but after that, I was pretty much on my

own. I got Cala to her room and locked all of the exits except for the door that led in to the hallway, and then closed that behind me and just left her there. Whether she was going to sleep or not was up to her.

I'd thought over what I'd told her parents on Reaping Day. They said that we didn't have to be allies, but if I could just get her to trust me enough, could we? It would mean putting myself in actual serious danger, but it did seem like the right thing. It had to be... right?

But I'd already told myself the hard part--getting Cala to trust me enough to become allies. I couldn't really see myself just asking her about forming an alliance, so maybe I'd just need her trust...

The thought finally hit me, right then and there. What about Lina? She'd seemed like she'd had a way to get Cala to listen to sense. It had worked for the chariot rides... why wouldn't it work in the arena?

I had to find her and talk to her: right then. I didn't want to put it off and then back out of asking for her help. So I headed up to the tribute's lounge, which was the first place I thought of where she might be, and the only place where tributes from different districts could really interact after the ceremonies and outside of training.

She was there, and the only person so far who was. "Hey," I greeted as I walked in.

"Hey," she said.

"I was hoping that you'd be up here." It took me about... oh, give it two seconds, to realize how weird that sounded. "Sorry," I said quickly. "That sounded really stalkerish, huh?"

Lina just smiled. "Oh, no; not at all."

"Well, would you look at that? The 'quiet girl from District Twelve' has a sense of humor."

"And so does the 'overly outgoing tribute from District Nine'," she replied, a bit shyly. Seeming to snap out of it, she asked, "So... why was it that you wanted me to be up here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"No, you did? Really? Are you sure? Do you have the right person?"

"I'm sure," I laughed. "I just wanted to ask you something." I took a deep breath. "I wanted to know if you would be allies with me and Cala."

"With you and Cala?" she asked.

"Yup."

"Sure," Lina answered. "I think I'd like that."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." She sounded genuine, now.

"Okay, then. Well... thanks, I suppose."

"Anytime. But... I should go. I don't think my mentor really wants me up here."

"Alright. See ya' in training."

"See ya'." Lina left the room, and I was alone for a bit before a few other tributes started to come in. I ended up talking with two tributes that I came to know as Tal and Gavin. They seemed nice enough, but that might be a problem later on, I realized.

Because, really, I didn't have a problem with them.

And there wasn't really anyone that I wanted to kill.

Crimson Streaks and Orchard Trees: November Sky, District 11 Female Tribute

I had a bit of a rant about my stylist and prep team. First of all, I was sitting near a window with the sun shining through it for the beginning of my prep, so they noticed the sort-of red streaks in my hair that you can only really see in the sun. And what did they decide to do? Why, they had to actually die those streaks, of course! They made them red, but not the shade that they were naturally-more of a darker, more noticeable, blood red crimson.

It made me look sort of... dangerous.

And I was not quite sure if I liked it like that or not.

The next part of my rant was the part that I was sure I didn't like-my costume. I was the oh-so-classic orchard tree. My district partner, Maine? His outfit, on the other hand, was tan pants and a burgundy tunic. I didn't get how that really had anything to do with District Eleven, but at least he wasn't a stupid tree!

During the ceremonies, I just watched the chariot in front of us, which was District Ten, of course. The girl was dressed as a cowgirl, and the other tribute was dressed as... wait for it... a cow. As in, the huge, ugly animal with black spots all over it. Outfit complete with tail.

Right, because we tributes needed to be even more humiliated.

Maine was great at the whole "winning over sponsors" thing, but I didn't want to wave or smile for anyone in that audience. They didn't deserve it-they were all just Capitol.

After the ceremonies, we went to dinner, where the district's industry was shoved in front of us even more.

The whole dinner was themed around District Eleven:

A big platter in the middle of the table held a freshly prepared groosling, a common animal in our district. Around the edges of that same plate were perfectly alternated, green-and-red, apple slices, and the platter itself had pictures of trees carved in to the silver.

The tablecloth showed a design of leaves in the fall-red and orange and yellow and brown-as they would appear on the ground at the orchards. I had seen them so many times on the way home from school...

Of course, there was even more to come, but that first course, which was an odd selection to start out with, in my opinion, was the one that really... hurt. It just made me even more homesick than I already was. It made me think of how familiar everything was in District Eleven, and how much I never thought I would want to be there but I do...

I didn't feel up to talking, and Maine and his mentor were doing most of the talking, really. I didn't feel like joining in, and besides, the two of them seemed happy enough. But I did have to admit that I was listening in, and they would try and bring me in to the conversation where it concerned me, like when Simmons, Maine's mentor, got around to the training

strategies. "You know," he had said, "I'm curious to see if either of you have a plan for tomorrow."

"Well, I was planning on going to training, personally," I answered. "And then, coming back here, maybe?"

"Good to know that you're not a ditcher," Maine joked.

"Anything more specific than that?" Simmons asked, not to be ignored, and the question was mostly directed at Maine.

"Maybe try to figure out how to use a weapon, or-"

"An excellent idea, Maine!" Simmons interrupted. "Great, great, great."

"Or work on combat," Maine finished lamely.

"What about you, November?" Simmons asked. "Any more plans?"

"I... am going to... work on... something."

"Something...?"

"Yes. Something. As in, a thing. Like, one of the stations. Maybe I'll try my hand at gymnastics or something else like that."

"Gymnastics?" Simmons inquired. "You sure that's what you want to be spending your time on?"

"I don't know!" I blurted out, annoyed by now. "Just something!"

The two of them, Maine and Simmons, seemed to back off a bit after that and resumed their chattering.

After dinner, we watched the recap of the opening ceremonies, which weren't really all that impressive. Simmons made his comments, which were a bit excessive and mostly about how there weren't a lot of good stylists this year. At that moment, I just wanted to get out of there already!

I decided to go to bed almost right away, even though I knew that I would never sleep.

So I really just closed my door and turned off my lights and paced around the room. I washed off every bit of makeup from the opening ceremonies-the only thing that was still different from me in District Eleven were the red streaks in my hair.

And as I looked at them again in the mirror, I could not help but think: That isn't me. This

isn't me. This isn't really happening.

The makeup, for the most part, washed away, evidence of the changes gone, I changed in to clothes that were a ton more comfortable than my costume had been.

Even though I knew that it was useless, I finally got in to bed.

And I was right about not sleeping-I didn't sleep at all that night. At least it wasn't like I expected to.

Because these Games are definitely unpredictable.

A New Kind of Family: Newcomb Birambau, District 3 Male Tribute

"Wake up! Wake up! Get ready and be at breakfast in ten minutes or suffer!"

That was what I woke up to on my first day of training. My eyes shot open and I literally jumped out of bed. The voice was easily recognized--Callia's mentor, Alya. She was a bit... demanding.

"Your training outfits are on your dressers!" Her voice faded as she started to walk down the hallway.

My next thoughts reminded me of my thoughts from when I woke up on Reaping Day. Ten minutes. That was six-hundred seconds. I glanced at the clock to check on what time it would be in ten minutes. In ten minutes, it would be... five o'clock in the morning. Great.

I got washed up and threw on the training outfit that Alya had laid out for me, mainly: combat boots, black pants, and a light green t-shirt. Her laying out clothes and waking us up and everything sort of made me feel like a little kid again. I went to breakfast, to find her waiting. Callia had beaten me there, and it was just the three of us.

"Sit," Alya instructed, and we all did so. She shoved two pre-prepared breakfast trays over to us. "Eat this--it's the best you could have for training today."

I looked at what was on the tray--a small glass of orange juice, a bowl of grainy-looking cereal in milk, and a small fruit and vegetable assortment on the side, along with a slice of toasted bread with peanut-butter on it.

Callia and I didn't argue and started to eat. I noted that we were dressed identically, and we were both given the exact same food. Interesting.

As we ate, Alya was already giving orders: "After breakfast, I'm going to take you both down to training early, and I'll give you some exercises to do as a warm-up for today. Then you can get your tribute outfits all taken care of, and I'll be there to give you some guidance with that. And then you'll both be ready to wait for the others to come."

We both finished eating, eating everything on our plates. As promised, Alya took us downstairs and we started out with some exercises--mostly stretching, running, and some other warm-up type things like push-ups and crunches.

After all of that, Alya took us to the room where Callia and I would fill out the form for our tribute outfits. We both sat down at a table with the form and a pen. Alya was walking us through the form. "Name, age, gender, district, clothing size, shoe size, hair type and length," she read over our shoulders. "Fill it in--neatly."

We were both apparently fine until we got to "hair length". Because, really, how many people know exactly how long their hair is? And I didn't even see why it would affect our tribute outfits, but Alya actually got out a bunch of files from our stylists and told us what to write down.

Then there was the next part of the form, which was a bunch of 'yes or no' questions.

Do you wear glasses, contacts, or any other form of vision corrector? If so, what kind? I put down no.

There were more, about your district token, and if you would want 'any form of hair restraints', if you had any sort of disability that would require you to wear a brace, or anything else. Alya was able to sign both of ours to confirm that "the above was true and accurate", even though that statement was rather redundant, in my opinion.

Then there was only the part of the form that read: Please list the other garments that you would like to wear in to the arena--maximum eight:

Alya listed out what to write for both of us, and they were only slightly different really, but, in essence, the same, and very similar to our training outfits: Basic underclothes, ankle-socks, combat boots (which she seemed to be a fan of), snug-fitting, cotton black pants, and a darker-beige, long-sleeve shirt.

Afterwards, she led us to the center of the main room, which was still empty, and said, "Wait here for everyone to come, and stay with each other and whatever other allies you might gain for training and during lunch. Come back to our floor immediately after training and meet me at the place where we ate breakfast. I'll be checking in with you at lunch, and during training, be sure to try a variety of new things."

Then she left, and I could almost say that I was grateful.

The person who was in charge of explaining all of the stations came next, and waited with us, making conversation occasionally. Other tributes started to come in, and once everyone was there, the stations, which were all standard, were explained, and we were released.

"Where do you want to head first?" Callia asked.

I glanced around the room at the various stations. "Hmm... what looks good to you?"

"What about that one?" Callia suggested, pointing to a corner of the room that was sectioned off with a sub-wall. "Horses. Has to be some sort of animal handling, right? Sounds fun."

"Sure," I agreed. I was curious to see what it was like, anyways. We quickly crossed the room and approached the station. The floor was covered in hay, and a barn-style door is open, leading outside in to a wide, closed-in field. There were three tributes there--the District Ten pair, naturally, and Ellink, the boy from District Seven. Ellink and the District Ten girl seem to be working together, and the District Ten boy is on his own.

"Alright, tributes, gather 'round, gather 'round," the instructor at the station said. "We're

going to get you all saddled up here in just a moment, and then head out this door to practice riding. Why don't you folks all try it on your own first, getting on your horses, that is?" I approached the horse nearest to me--a medium-sized one that was a pale, dusty brown with a darker mane and tail. Now, how do I get on this thing?

"Want some help?" The District Ten girl walked over to Callia and me. She seemed a bit odd at first glance--her long, clearly curly, black hair was put in to one tight braid that hung over her left shoulder; she was wearing a simple, lavender dress and cowgirl boots that were the same dark brown as her eyes, but still several shades darker than her relatively dark-olive skin. Perhaps the weirdest part of the ensemble was the top hat--which had a boa and beaded necklace tied around the brim, with a string attached to the hat itself so that it could slip down to the back of her neck.

I glanced around and noticed that Ellink was already on his horse, but he'd clearly had help--probably from the girl in front of us. The District Ten boy was on his, too, but probably without help.

"Uh... yeah," I admitted, with a small laugh.

"Great. Well, alright, then, here's what you do..." She showed me how to get one foot in to the stirrup and then swing myself over the side. "Make sure you hold on tight, if it's your first time around," she said, already moving over to help out Callia, explaining the same things to her. Oh, I was holding on tight, alright. The horse started to back up slightly, and, I'll admit, I started to panic.

The District Ten girl just laughed. "Don't worry, that's normal. He's probably just excited."

Once Callia was on her horse, she walked back over to her own and hopped on with ease. "I'm Namitha, by the way," she called over to us. "My district partner, Gavin," she added, gesturing to him. "And Link, my ally." She gestured to Ellink, who I guess just went by "Link".

"Are we all ready to start?" the instructor asked from his position on top of his horse. We all nodded. "Let's start moving, then. Dig your heels in to your horse's side a bit." We all did so. "And try to use the reins to guide them outside. Easy, though; take it slow." It was surprisingly easier than I thought--the horses were probably trained.

Once we were out in the field, the instructor called, "Just try to get 'em to walk around the edges for a bit. Experiment, see what works, what doesn't. Don't worry, they won't run you in to the fence."

Namitha got her horse to trot over to where Callia and I were. "You know, I just started my alliance with Link last night, but we were already sort of speculating other people who could be allies with us, and he seemed to think that you two would be a good bet. Do you want to ally-up with us?"

More allies? Already? I glanced over at Callia, and she nodded at me, as if to say "just do what you think is right". So I nodded, too. "Sure."

We started talking as Link caught up to us and we all walked our horses around the field for a bit. Callia told them about how we had named our alliance, and they agreed that they liked the name. Link filmed some of the scenery that we passed by, and eventually, we were all comfortable enough with the horses to climb off of 'em and go back inside.

We all stayed together for the rest of the morning, going around to various survival stations. At lunch, Alya was there to greet us, give Callia and I our lunch trays, and make sure that we were eating at a table together with our allies. I resisted the urge to tell her that we weren't small children and could take care of ourselves.

In the afternoon, we focused more on combat stations--knife throwing, archery, hand-to-hand combat. None of us took to them particularly well.

Right after training, as we had been instructed, Callia and I went to meet Alya. She gave us our dinner, and we ate while we reported to her everything that had happened that day, which she consistently insisted on details on.

Afterwards, she sent us straight to get ready for bed and sleep. Callia and I did as we were told.

The next day was much of the same, as was the last day of training, except for after lunch. It was time for our private sessions with the Gamemakers. When it was Callia's turn to go in, our whole alliance told her good luck. I needed a plan for what I was going to do. What was I good at? I was good with electronics, but had there been any in there? I wracked my brains and came up blank. No, I hadn't seen any in there.

Then they were calling out my name and I entered the gymnasium. Think, Newcomb, think! What can you do?

I thought for a few more moments, and then I walked over to the gymnastics station. I climbed up on to the balance bar, and then up the sides of one of the higher ones, since I wasn't going to be able to jump, and got on to that one, repeating the cycle as necessary until I could reach one of the lights that were hanging from the ceiling. As I'd suspected from the accuracy of the lighting, these lights weren't just your average lights. They'd have internal generators--ones so small that they would fit inside of the bulb itself to power it--like a very, very small flashlight, probably complete with mini batteries. The covering of the light itself around it was probably just for protection and decoration. But the light bulb apparently didn't need protection--I couldn't break it by myself once I had removed it from the fixture, when I tried. So, still balancing carefully, now slightly in the dark, I threw the light bulb as hard as I could in the Gamemakers' directions. There was a force field in front of them, I knew from the small patches of air that were wavering, and as soon as the light bulb hit the force field, the shock shattered the glass, shut down the generator, and it fell to the floor again. I climbed down and retrieved it.

There was a little, almost barely-visible switch on the generator itself. I unclipped the wire that went to another part of the generator (now disconnected due to the shock) and put it off to the side. The electricity would now flow from the generator straight through the wire, but it would be cut off at the other end, since it now just went to the other metal clasp. But that would create a spark at the end, almost instantly, once the generator was turned on. For just a second.

I went over to the fire starting station, and arranged the twigs in the "A" shape that I'd been shown, placing kindling at the bottom. I put a circular layer of rocks around it carefully, to make sure that the fire didn't spread, put the middle clasp in the right position, and hit the switch on the generator.

It worked. The spark traveled quickly, and I added some more of the kindling, mostly pine needles to the pile, coaxing it in to a larger blaze. It burned brightly in front of me, and I was satisfied. The plan was really just to prove that I knew my way around electronics enough to pull off something like that.

They dismissed me, and I went back up to the District Three floor.

When I tried to explain what I'd done to Callia and Alya, they just seemed confused. My own mentor wasn't even at dinner, and neither of our stylists had bothered to show up at all. Callia said that she'd done some of the obstacle-course things, to show her speed, mostly.

We watched for the training scores nervously.

Callia got a six.

I got a seven.

Good. We got reasonable scores, then.

The only other scores that stuck out to me were the District Five pair's--the girl got a seven, and the boy got a five. The girl was one of the higher non-Career scorers, but her district partner was average. I tried to keep an eye out for the scores of others in our alliance, but I only caught Link's, who got also got a five. And then there was the District Nine girl's--she got the lowest score--a two. I wondered what it was that she did.

The seven made me happy, though. It was a good score, a very good score, for someone who wasn't in the Career pack.

I fell asleep easier that night, knowing that I was ready to face the interviews, and whatever else was coming next.

We Are the Tributes: Kyler Hail, District 8 Male Tribute

Growing up in the community home, you were sort of forced to be a morning person. So it was natural that I was the first person up on our first day of training. Capitol citizens apparently always liked to sleep in, so Hime, our escort, would probably be asleep for a while longer. Both of our mentors most likely suffered from the nightmares that were common amongst victors, so they had chosen to sleep in. Charity was probably... somewhere.

After I got ready for the day, I went to see if she was in her room, and sure enough, there she was--still fast asleep. I felt like I was already getting to know her in the few days it had been since we'd met. I glanced at the clock to check the time, and I knew that we'd have to start getting ready for training soon, so I shook her shoulder gently. "Charity."

"What do you want?"

"It's time to start getting ready for training."

"And why are you the one waking me up?"

"No one else is awake yet."

"Then it can't be time to get ready for training, now, can it?" she snapped, not even looking at me.

"But it is time," I insisted.

"Oh, fine. I'm up now, anyway. Get out."

I left the room and went to where we'd eaten dinner the night before, and found it empty other than the few Avoxes and other servants who were carrying in trays to the table. Sitting down in a seat at random, I started putting together my breakfast plate absently, just piling on whatever looked good.

"Is there anything I could get you, sir?" one of the servants asked. "Anything at all?"

I thought for just a moment, and, remembering the breakfast that we'd had on the train, said, "No, but I think Charity'll want some orange juice once she's up."

"I'll have that for you in just a moment." He walked off again, just as Charity came in. She sat down in the seat that was as far away from me as possible, and the servant returned with a glass of orange juice in hand, setting it on the glass table-top delicately in front of Charity. "Anything else for you, miss?"

"No."

We were left pretty much alone again, until a few minutes later when Hime and Ash come to join us. "Oh, good," Hime said. "You two are up."

"Wouldn't want to be late for your first day of training, now, would you?" Ash added.

There was a bit of conversation during the remainder of breakfast, mostly from Ash and me, and a little bit from Hime. Charity only pitched in when she really had to, and Saxony never even showed up.

Eventually, Charity and I headed down to the training room, and we had to fill out the tribute outfit form first thing. I didn't pay too much attention to it, really--it seemed sort of unimportant compared to training, which started shortly after we got there.

"Where do you want to head first?" I asked Charity.

She looked around the room and then said, very decisively, "Edible plants."

"Okay."

Charity seemed to do well enough with the plants after a few tests, but I couldn't really get a hold of them. They just weren't really my thing, I guess. "How do you not get this?" Charity asked me impatiently. "All of the tricks are pretty easy, you know."

I shrugged. "I guess that you're just more of a plants person."

"Probably." She turned back to the pile of berries that the instructor had given her to sort in to two piles--the ones that were edible and the ones that weren't.

"Remember that you'll be betting your life on this in the arena," he said, walking back over to us from another group of tributes. "It's better to not eat something that turns out to be edible than it is to eat something that's poisonous. Never eat something that you're not sure about, no matter how hungry you are. You're a lot less likely to die of starvation."

After a few more minutes, I just gave up on the plants and watched Charity finish her sorting. "What?" she asked, looking up once she finished.

"Nothing," I said. "Just watching."

"Well, than, try your own pile."

I looked at the pile and sighed, trying to remember what we'd learned. I picked up one of the berries and rolled in around in my fingers, examining it, before I set it on the side of the piece of paper in front of me labeled "Edible".

But someone's hand reached forwards, picked up the berry, and moved it over to the "Poisonous" side. I looked behind me to see who it was, and my eyes fell on the girl from District Seven. Was she the one who didn't talk?

"Hi," I said.

She did a sort of wave with one hand.

"Thanks for metaphorically saving my life."

She nodded and smiled a little.

Charity said, "We should go to another station. Come on, Kyler." She practically dragged me over to the sword-fighting station. Ignoring the instructor that approached us, I raced over to the main supply of the swords and picked up the one that looked the most familiar. It felt natural and familiar in my hands, just like my one back home.

I ran my hand over the smooth part of the blade and just savored the moment. "What are you doing?" Charity asked from behind me.

"Nothing," I said. "Just... thinking."

"You're crazy."

"I know."

We got to practice for a while, and I did well naturally, but it was just because of all of my practice. Charity was struggling with them a bit more, but whenever I tried to help her, she just shoved off my advice and listened to the instructor.

Charity just kept holding her sword the wrong way, though, her hand much too close to the blade to even be safe. Before I could tell her one more time how to do it the right way, someone shifted the sword for her. And when I looked up again, it was that same girl from District Seven. Kildaire? Was that her name?

The same sort of thing happened at the next few stations we went to--knot tying, fishhook making, and working with snares. Kildaire was always right behind us, offering help whenever we needed it. She seemed to have a knack for everything we did.

"Do you think we should ask her to join our alliance?" I finally asked Charity at lunch, when we were able to shake her for a few minutes.

"Who? The creepy D7 girl? Probably not."

"Why not?"

"Because she's clearly trying to find our weaknesses so she could kill us," Charity pointed out, sounding tired.

"But what if she's not? We'd all do better together."

"Oh, fine. Have it your way. But I decide when we break it off."

"Deal."

I walked over and sat down across from Kildaire at the empty table she was at. "Hey," I said. "Charity and I have a question for you. Would you be interested in joining our alliance?"

Kildaire nodded, and then pointed at each of the three of us in turn, before drawing a big circle over us in the air with her hand. Then she nodded again.

"Is that a yes?" Charity demanded impatiently.

Kildaire nodded.

"Good." Charity still sounded annoyed with me, but she didn't say anything further.

So for the rest of training, wherever we went, Kildaire tagged along. She did seem pretty bright, even if she looked a bit dazed.

On the third day, it was time for us to have our private sessions with the Gamemakers, and I knew exactly what I was going to do. I was the last person in our alliance to go in, but I tried to look as confident as I could before I approached the sword station.

I dragged a few of the training dummies out in to the middle of the room, and picked up the same sword that I'd used on the very first day of training. Within five minutes, the training dummies laid in shreds over the training room floor. It almost hurt to look at it at the end, all of those pieces just lying limp on the ground...

But I have to admit that it hurt a bit less when they showed the scores later on that night. Kildaire had gotten a five, and Charity also got a five. I got a six, just barely higher than they had. Charity told me that she had tried showing off what she had learned with the knot tying and noose-making.

I had to admit that I was sort of glad that training was over, though.

Even if the Games were only growing closer.

The Three Keys to Training: Kizzy Ericssen, District 6 Female Tribute

When my mom was still alive, she always said that you only needed three things to survive: food/water, shelter, and common sense. Especially at first, it was what had gotten me

through years of living in the slums of District Six. Especially that last bit of the advice, if you could call it that. So on the night of the opening ceremonies, it seemed like just that--common sense--that got me in to the training room to steal the food and knife for Tod. I'd been reluctant about getting the knife for my district partner, but it was the only compromise that would keep my trip a secret.

My initial supply had lasted for the train ride, and then I'd just had to be hungry--something that I was used to--until I got the food that night, after the opening ceremonies. And now, I hoped that I had enough food to last me until I got in to the arena.

I got myself ready for training quickly--throwing on the first clean set of clothes that I found, washing up quickly, eating a quick breakfast of some of the tree bark from the training room, pulling my hair back out of my face. But even trying to stick to my regular routine, I still couldn't help but think that I didn't seem like myself. First of all, thanks to my stylists, I was actually clean, my scars were all gone, and my hair was somewhat manageable.

I didn't dwell on it for long before I just went ahead and started to go down to the training room on my own. "Where do you think you're going?" Mrs. Twine asked from behind me.

"Training," I said. "That's generally what tributes do while they're in the Capitol."

"But you haven't had breakfast yet."

"Yes, I have."

Mrs. Twine just sighed. "Very well. Go."

I turned around and ran down the stairs as fast as I could so she couldn't change her mind.

Once I got there, I realized that I seemed to get there at about an average time, since there was a pretty steady flow of tributes. The stations were explained, we were all reminded to fill in our tribute outfit forms, and then we were released. I took care of the tribute outfit form, not really paying attention to it. We all got to choose our own tribute outfits, someone had decided on that at some time in the past.

Finally, the fun part began. I looked around and tried to decide on my first station. In the arena, food would be a high concern, and so would water and defense. So where did I head? Fire-making, of course! Because that just totally fit in to those categories.

I seemed to be pretty good at it. I'd had to make fires for myself plenty of times, so most of the materials were familiar. But the instructor seemed frustrated with me because I was terrible when it came to materials that I'd never had to use before (and I'd used nearly everything), and I didn't use a proper "form" for making my fire. I mean, seriously? A specific "form" for making a fire? How about this: just set something on fire and see what happens! It had always worked for me.

Eventually, I got annoyed enough that I moved on to the fishing station. There aren't really a lot of fishing opportunities in District Six, so I wasn't the best at it. I could construct a fishing pole out of some pretty weird materials, alright, but the actual fishing wasn't going so well for me.

Lunchtime came and went, with me sneaking back upstairs to grab some of the food from my supply to eat. Our mentors and escort were so busy dealing with... whatever it is that they do, or maybe they were all just asleep or something, that they didn't notice me, and it wasn't like anyone was paying me much attention in the cafeteria, except for the guards who made sure that I didn't get out of the building entirely.

I was almost sort of glad, though, when it was finally time for our private sessions with the Gamemakers. Still not quite sure of what to do when I walked in, I just decided to do what felt "natural", as my mentor, Antara, had instructed. Usually, I wouldn't dream of doing what I was told, but it did seem right, so I went for it.

I made a small pile of fire-making materials in an area of the room close to the Gamemakers. I actually walked out then, but just to the pool room, which had been put in a long, long time ago, but hadn't been there since the beginning of the Games. There, I found exactly what I needed. Liquid Chlorine.

I went back in to the main gymnasium and grabbed a box of matches from the fire-making station. Quickly, I poured some of the chlorine on to my pile, and struck a match to it.

I proceeded to sprint out of the room without being dismissed, smiling.

I had known exactly what I was doing--the chlorine would light on fire, and it would release gasses that shouldn't have been deadly, but would certainly be irritating for the Gamemakers. It would probably wear off quickly, however, so the next tribute up--Tod--wouldn't be all that affected. The plan, at least in my mind, was brilliant--but it was dangerous to try--it meant losing sponsors for my surely low score, getting the Gamemakers on my bad side, and possible other punishment.

But it all seemed worth it when the Gamemakers rushed out of the room after me, coughing and sputtering.

I went back up to the District Six floor, and later that night, I got my score--a three. Predictable. Tod got an eight, and he supposedly just showed off by destroying some of the dummies. Antara, in a word, was not so happy about my score--not so much that it was low, just how dangerous what I'd done was.

I couldn't sleep later on that night, and after standing out on my balcony for a while, which still felt all too suffocating, what with the other force field around it and all, I went up to the Tribute's Lounge.

The only others there were the Career pack. I just sat on one of the sofas and watched them. They really didn't seem to notice me too much--they acknowledged that I was there, but then went on talking about nothing really important. I was pretty tuned in, eavesdropping on the nonsense that they were talking about.

"It's sort of just like in that one song," the District Four girl commented at one point. With the blank stares she got from everyone else, she gasped, "You guys have to know the song I'm talking about, right?"

But the others just shook their heads, and some scowled.

The girl began to sing. "Though their tears may fall, when you hear them call, another song will rise--"

One of the other girls, from District Two, I think, seemed to remember it, now. She joined in with the next line: "Another song will rise--"

Two more people joined--the District One pair, if I was correct--finished it with them: "Another song will ri-ise..."

There was supposed to be more, I could tell, but an awkward silence took over all of them. "Fabian, how do you know that song?" his district partner teased.

"My sister likes it--it's one of her favorites," he said, suddenly a bit dreamily. He snapped out of it and asked, "How do you know it?"

"My father taught it to me," the girl who had started to song answered, a bit sadly.

"I learned it at school," the other two girls said in perfect unison.

I don't know why the incident lingered in my mind so much--it just seemed odd, how the Careers were starting to cooperate with each other a bit. I snuck out of the room, pretty much unnoticed, and was able to fall asleep.

No Time to be Abandoned: Chenille Anders, District 1 Female Tribute

"Don't abandon each other. Ever."

My mentor's words hung in the air above the dining room table. Fabian's mentor, Haven, was silent, as was our escort, Feriah. No one spoke. It just wasn't practical advice for a Career--they weren't supposed to be concerned with their allies 'till the end, or even at all, depending on

the Games. I wasn't going to let anything get in my way of winning these Games. Not my allies, not my mentor's advice, and certainly not anything else.

"You should go to training now," Haven suggested quietly.

I couldn't have agreed more; I cleared my throat and stood abruptly from the table. Without another word, I started to head towards the elevator. Fabian was close behind me, clearly also eager to get out of there.

"You have a habit of storming off without saying anything," he informed me. "And you're also not a fan of 'family breakfasts'. Both could be potentially fatal flaws of character."

"Shut up," I told him as the elevator doors opened and I walked out, towards the training room.

"There you go again, with the storming off thing!" Fabian called from behind me.

"That's not my only skill, which I think you'll learn very clearly if you choose to annoy me again in the arena," I hissed at him, barely even turning around.

"They say that anger is a form of passion."

"Well, 'they' can just go--"

"Whoa." The word was in unison from the two of us as we entered the gymnasium. It was huge, and I mean huge. There were more weapons and tools than I'd ever seen in my whole life. And it was all just there in front of me at once.

Spotting the knife throwing station, I had to resist the urge to sprint over there as fast as I could. My favorite weapon--in mass amounts--was just there, waiting for me.

"Let's go," Fabian said, already approaching the gathered group of tributes. We were the last tributes of the Career pack to get to training, so we approached the others.

After the initial greetings, Samantha said, "We were talking about our tribute outfits--like, if we'd want them to be matching or not."

I nodded in a pretty general response. "Sounds reasonable."

"What are we, little kids?" Arsin argued.

"He has a point," Marco put in.

Fabian shrugged. "I don't really care."

"I think it'd be cool!" Samantha added.

Only the District Four girl, Ionia, really gave a reason. "They'd be good for recognition," she commented. "So, I say yes."

"That's three for matching, two against it, and one who doesn't care," I said. "Fabian? If you pick matching, that's it. If you pick going against it, it's a tie."

"This isn't a democracy!" Arsin blurted out.

"Oh, whatever," Fabian said, ignoring him. "I'm with the girls--I say yes."

"So, what're our outfits going to be, then?" Samantha asked.

Since we still had time before training started, we decided on our outfits and filled in the forms, being very specific, probably just to annoy the people who had to supply them: basic undergarments and socks (which didn't count towards our maximum amount of clothing, apparently), tight-fitting, rather simple black boots made of leather, beige denim pants, a dark green t-shirt and camo jacket, as well as a belt.

Just as we were finishing, someone was starting to explain all of the stations to us. But I wasn't listening--I didn't need an explanation.

All I knew was that once we were released, I felt barely conscious of my fellow Careers. "Where do you guys want--"

"Knife throwing," I heard myself say, as if in a trance, not even knowing who it was that had spoken.

"Swimming." The District Four pair must've said that.

"Climbing or sword practice." That one I wasn't so sure of, but I was pretty sure that it was the District Two girl.

"Let's do all of those," Fabian suggested, and those things took up all of our first day, with some debate on the order.

We started at knife throwing, at my insistence. I was the first person out of all twenty-four tributes to reach it. "Pick a knife, any one will do as long as ya' got one," the instructor told us.

I picked up one of the sleek blades that looked the most like my main practice one at home. But I could tell that it wasn't the same--it was lighter and shinier than my usual one. He started us off with some basic throwing techniques, but quickly learned better, at least, when it came to me. If anyone else was advanced as fast, I wasn't paying any attention. I talked him in to letting me do a demonstration of basic combat with them with his help. My fellow Careers seemed somewhat impressed, even if they weren't about to admit it.

I wasn't such a big fan of swimming, even though the District Four pair, were, naturally, better at it than the rest of us. It was annoying for them to be so much better at something than the rest of us, but Ionia seemed to be an okay teacher.

When we had first got to the swimming room, we were given bathing suits to go in to the bathrooms and change in to. After that, the lesson began, though the instructor really seemed less than interested in us, so it was a good thing that we had both of the District Four tributes as a part of our alliance.

Ionia basically taught us how to not drown and move quickly and smoothly through the water, about holding our breath and being as quiet as possible. Arsin was also a natural at the swimming, but he didn't seem to be all that interested in helping the rest of us. "What are the odds that all of us will need it?" he said.

Climbing. Had it really only been two days ago that I'd been practicing it in my backyard? With mother back on the ground, offering instructions, and Laecia in the tree next to mine? Just two days? Was I already that absorbed by the Games?

I shook my head as we approached the station, blocking out the thoughts. I was a Career. Careers were supposed to get engulfed by the Games.

Samantha was our teacher at this station, helping us get ready to scale the rock-climbing wall in front of us. "Just look at how I'm stepping!" she called down to us, already several feet up. I did try to watch, though scowling. I couldn't see anything from where I was on the ground.

Finally, we all started to climb up. The District Four tributes were positively awful at it, not slipping or falling, but going so slowly that if mutts were chasing them, they'd be done for. Marco was hesitant to even start climbing, though he was clearly trying to swallow his fear. But he wasn't doing too much better than District Four--he was a lot less steady, though a bit faster. Fabian was actually doing pretty good, once he got started.

It was going all right for me, until I hit a rough section where there were very few pegs about ten feet up. I studied it for only a second before I tried to stretch my leg up to the next spot. But I missed and just hit the wall itself. My leg slipped out from under me, dragging my other one down with it, until I was just dangling in the harness, holding on to one of the pegs for dear life with one hand.

Okay, so, looking back on it, it might not have been "for dear life", thanks to the harness, but, still.

I started to repel back down the wall, but something must've gone wrong with the harness, because about a yard or two off the ground, it just dropped me down.

It didn't really hurt, but I did fall on my left leg sort of weirdly. The instructor rushed over to me, already babbling out questions, and gesturing for one of the medics that was always

standing guard to come over. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Here, let's get you out of that harness."

It did feel good to get out of the climbing equipment, I'll admit. The medic looked at the instructor like he was being overdramatic, which he was. "She has a twisted ankle," he informed the instructor. "She'll live. Really."

"But shouldn't we wrap it?"

"Yup. Maybe put in an ice pack, too. But that's about it, really. It takes about a week to heal, and she won't be able to wear the wrap in to the arena. But it might be all fixed by then--it all depends on how bad it is."

"That won't be necessary," I said, trying to sound sweet. "I'm fine, really."

"No, no, no, we wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself anymore than you have to." There was just something so wrong about that sentence that I couldn't quite put my finger on. In the end, I let him wrap it up with the ice pack from the medical kit. My ankle was starting to ache a bit.

But I ignored it, and tried to not favor it too much.

The next station, sword fighting, had a much-preferred instructor. It wasn't really my thing, though--the weapons were too heavy for me, since I was the youngest Career. In fact, I was the only one who wasn't eighteen!

We'd added first aid to our list of things that we had to do, in honor of my so-called "injury". "Guess that twisted ankle'll give you a pretty big disadvantage in the arena, huh?" Arsin taunted as the first-aid instructor went over the contents of the first-aid kit. I glared at him, and I thought I heard Marco laugh.

"Just another flaw of character," Fabian whispered to me. "Tendency to get injured." I shoved him in to the conveniently nearby wall in response.

The rest of training wasn't really all that interesting. The first day was the most impressive, by far. When it came time for our private sessions with the Gamemakers, I was the first tribute up. Good. I'd have the Gamemakers attention.

I walked in to the room, trying to look innocent yet confident, and stood in front of the Gamemakers silently.

"You may begin."

I walked over to the knife station automatically, not quite sure what I was doing there. I picked up the same knife that I'd used on the first day, and a few others like it, holding them all

in one hand. I looked around the room for a good target. The ones set for the actual knife station were too close.

No, my eyes fell on the dummies used for archery--across the room.

I started to run sideways, away from the Gamemakers, wincing at the slight extra pain in my ankle as I did so. By the time I was halfway across the room from the Gamemakers--horizontally--I'd sent the three knives hurling towards one of the dummies, all three lodging themselves deep in the arm, leg, and stomach of the dummy.

But I wasn't done yet, as I sprinted forwards, towards the dummy, retrieving the knives and throwing one back towards the targets at the knife station, one to the slightly closer targets at the spear station, and the third one upwards to hit the little bell at the top of the rock-climbing wall. It rings as the knife bounces off of it, and it's such a perfect rebound that I catch it in my hand--my left hand. My bad one.

Then I put down all of my weapons, and walked back to stand in front of the Gamemakers.

"You are dismissed, Chenille Anders."

I nodded politely and walked back out of the room, allowing myself the smallest of smiles.

Later that night, I saw my score: a ten. Fabian got a nine, Samantha got a seven, Marco and Ionia got eights, and Arsin got a ten. Average Career scores, but I was glad that mine was tied for the highest score out of all of the tributes.

So I fell asleep with the number still running through my mind.

Of Butterflies, Scores, and Independence: Maine Hofman, District 11 Male Tribute

As my eyes flew open, I sat up quickly, stifling a yawn and stretching. I was still in the Tributes' Lounge. Sunlight streamed in through an uncovered window, just enough to show that it still had to be a decent hour of the morning. The clock confirmed that it was time to start getting ready for training, but I didn't want to race down the two flights of stairs to the District

Eleven floor quite yet. There was food for breakfast here, after all, so what would the purpose have been in it?

I forced myself off of the couch in the lounge and up on to my feet. There were still some other tributes there, I wasn't surprised to see. There was Vitality, the District Five girl, and then there was Gavin, the boy from District Ten. Neither of them was really talking, so I said, "Mornin', guys!"

"Morning," Vitality mumbled.

"Hi." That was Gavin, with a bit more energy.

"So, did you two have any trouble with sleeping' last night?" I asked, walking over towards the breakfast table.

"Didn't sleep." That was the general response.

"Oh. Well, that's okay, too," I replied, already filling my plate. The District Ten boy, who I'd come to know as someone with a lot of energy, just seemed tired by now, and the District Five girl just didn't seem to be a very friendly person.

I sat down at the table with my plate, turned to the others, and asked, "Are you going to get some food?" Then I realized that I probably sounded like their moms, which was, admittedly, a bit of a disturbing thought.

"I think I'll be going back to my floor now," Vitality answered, already walking clear out of the room.

"Sure, why not?" Gavin replied, and he, too, grabbed some food and sat down.

"So, what were you up to, being up here?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing..." There was no mistaking the... mischievous smile on his face.

"Come on, what was it?"

"Just messing with some tributes' heads, that's all," he finally answered. We had a bit more meaningless conversation before we both really had to get back down to our floors. "I'll see you in training, then," Gavin said.

"See ya' then." I took the elevator back down to the District Eleven floor, changed in to clothes for training and washed up. Without bothering to check on anyone else, I started to head to training, only to be stopped at the elevator by our escort, Clover.

"I need help!" she whined. "Your district partner refuses to go to training! She won't move from the breakfast table!"

I sighed, but then put on the most convincing smile I could. "Alright, let me see what I can do." You'd expect that maybe our escort would hang around after that, or, maybe, I don't know, actually care, but, of course, no. She went back to her so-called "office", and disappeared.

I went to the dining room, where only November remained now, sitting stubbornly in one of the chairs, facing out the window. I sat down in the chair next to her, and she moved hers farther away. "So, why don't you want to go to training?" I asked.

"Why do you care?"

"Because, I should care. I'm your district partner, after all."

"That doesn't mean we're allies."

"I know that."

She was quiet for just a second, and then said, "Well, I don't want to go because if I go, that means that I feel like I'm getting closer to being in the arena."

"You'll be getting closer to the arena either way."

"You think I don't know that?" she snaps. "I said that it would feel like time was going faster."

"Training well is your best shot of winning, you know," I pointed out. "And they say that time flies when you're having fun, so maybe that means that you really think that training will be fun. So, in that case, you should go."

November just groans. "Oh, okay. Just to get you to shut up, I'll go."

I smiled, and we both walked towards the elevator to go down to training. The ride down there was fast, and filling in the tribute outfit forms flew by so fast that the only thing I really remembered about them was that I had selected light khaki pants and a dark green tunic to be the main part of my tribute outfit. Pretty similar to what I wore on Reaping Day...

Could that have really been just two days ago?

Either way, once the stations were all explained, I decided to head out to my first station. Where to go, where to go...

I tried opening a door towards the back of the room, where I found myself standing alongside Tod and Mist, as well as the instructor. "Welcome to the camouflage station," the instructor said. "You can call me Ari, and I'll be your supervisor for the next approximate half and hour. Here's what we're going to do. This is basically a different version of the main camouflage station. Hence it being in a different room. I'm going to give each of you a little

cutout butterfly on a sheet of paper, and some coloring tools. You're going to color it to camouflage it against one of the surfaces in this room. It has to be in plain sight once you "hide" it, but don't let anyone see your butterfly until then. Then, one at a time, you'll tape them to the place you picked, and then you'll all try to find each other’s--just announce when you've found someone's. Got it?"

I understood, so once I had my supplies, I took a look around the room. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all painted to look like a forestry/woodsy setting. I made a mental note that that might be part of the arena. Finally, I colored in my butterfly to make it look like some of the leaves clustered around one of the branches. I was the first person to be able to kick everyone else out and hide mine, so I taped it against a part of the wall where the pattern that I had copied was.

Then I had to wait for everyone else, and the second we entered, I said, "Found both of them."

"Really? How in Panem--where are they?" Ari asked.

"There," I said, pointing to a spot in the corner of the room on the floor, "and there." I pointed to a high up place in the middle of the back wall.

"How in Panem did you ever find both of them so quickly?"

"Just used to it, I guess," I shrugged. "In my district, you have to be able to spot things in the trees, like bird or tracker-jacker nests, so you can stay out of the way."

"I have to say, you seem to have a knack for this. Alright, let's have everyone try to find yours now." That took a bit longer. Tod just kept glaring at me--Mist seemed a bit... out of it.

I considered using that as part of my private session with the Gamemakers. Finally, Mist pointed to a spot on the wall. There it was--my butterfly. "Good eye," Ari, the instructor, said. "Well, I suppose that that's all I have for you folks today. You all have a fun day, now, and remember that you never have to be a stranger to good ol' Ari. Any of the other instructors giving you a rough time, you're always welcome here."

We all nodded and left.

My next few stations were all me experimenting with all of the different weapons I could think of--maces, tridents, knives, spears, swords, bow-and-arrows, slingshots, you name it, I tried it. I seemed to be okay with a spear, but some of the others I just wasn't the best at.

After lunch, I went to a few more "survivaly" stations. Edible plants (yet another station that I was a natural at), water purifying, fire making, snares/trapping... Those, as a whole, I was a lot better at.

Training was done for the first day.

But it continued like that for the next one, and before lunch on the third one. The third day, for me, was just reviewing and finalizing what I was going to do for the Gamemakers. Finally, after a much too long wait, it was my turn to shine. I took my place in the Gamemakers room, and began. First, as fast as I could, and in sight of the Gamemakers, dragging some supplies out of the room, I colored in a few butterflies and stuck them up in various places of the training room, watching them fade in to the background. The Gamemakers seemed impressed, and were squinting to try to see them again. Next, also quickly, I made a trap, pushed one of the dummies in to it, and then stabbed it with a spear, making it shoot out fake blood, which I jumped out of the way of, thankfully. As my final act, I walked around the wall and pulled down each of the butterflies, and laid them out on the floor in front of the Gamemakers. It was a short session because of my speed, but I was dismissed, and I left, smiling in satisfaction.

At dinner, which was a large feast, also District Eleven style like it had been on the night of the opening ceremonies, I told my support team and November about what I'd done during my session. November just looked miserable and scowled at me. Her mentor didn't really respond, nor did Clover. Simmons seemed pleased, but quickly changed the conversation over to November. While she stalled talking about what she'd done, I noted that neither of our stylists had bothered to show up.

Finally, November said, "Well, I tried to show how I could climb and gather, but I don't think it went so well." She refused to elaborate, so we went to get our scores. November's came up first--a four. And then there was mine--a... an eleven? That was the highest score, even out of the Careers...wow. I'd always known that I was good, but even I hadn't suspected that I was that good.

Everyone seemed pleased with my score but disappointed with Novembers, which made her sneak off to her room.

I went to bed that night, not feeling like a trip to the tributes' lounge, and knew that I was ready to face whatever was going to come next.

All We Need: Carolina Rowan, District 12 Female Tribute

You know that "first day of school! first day of school!" feeling? That was my first day of training in a nutshell. I was up early, getting dressed in sensible clothes and washing up, taking a bit longer than usual on brushing out my tangled black hair. I put on my district token--the leather cord with the silver key on it from York--with particular care, letting my fingertips

linger on the leather for just a few moments before I let my hand slide back down to my side. Already, I was missing home. Not all of it--certainly not my father, who hadn't even bothered to visit me after the Reaping, or the solid gray of District Twelve--but York and even his family, my mother, the familiarity...

I shook my head to rid myself of the thoughts and went to breakfast. The table was filled with all sorts of breakfast foods, and I sat down, gathering up the first few food items that I got my hands on. It was all unbelievably good, but I finally made myself leave the District Twelve floor. Mist seemed to be in good hands with his mentor.

My first stop, before I went to training, was the District Nine floor. I figured out the elevator enough to get it to stop in the right place and got off. The first thing I heard was a lot of screaming, which, let me tell you, was not a wonderful way to start off your morning. It was clearly Cala, and it couldn't have been anyone else. I was, almost sadly, a bit used to dealing with younger kids, (though Cala could hardly be considered a child), since I spent so much time at York's house, with him and his five younger sisters.

"Cala! Please!" There was also some begging from Ondrew. "Oh, where's Lina when you need 'er?!"

"Right here," I answered quietly, stepping forwards in to the District Nine dining room, out of the shadows. Ondrew spun around so fast that he almost fell over, and it really would've been quite funny if it had been under different circumstances.

"Lina!" he exclaimed. "How in--oh, never mind! Just, please, help! Everything was going great until I tried to get her to come with me to training, and then it all just collapsed!"

"Let me try," I said, as calmly as I could. Ondrew stepped back to where I'd been just moments before and I approached a terrified Cala. "Good morning, Cala, Kane," I greeted, throwing in Kane's name just to see if it would calm her down any. She quieted slightly, but still jumped back at the sound of my voice. "Are you all ready for training?"

"Kane...? Should...?"

"Yes," I said. "Kane wants you to go to training. He says that it'll be fun." Honestly, from what I'd heard about "Kane", it seemed like he actually would, but then again, who was I to judge the voice in her head?

"Really?"

"Yup," I assured her. "That's what he said, alright."

Ondrew just sort of nodded when she glanced at him for confirmation. "Alright then," Cala said pleasantly, practically skipping off towards the elevator. "Let's go, Kane!"

I half-sighed, half-laughed. Ondrew just seemed relieved. And we both followed Cala to the elevator.

The people who were waiting for us at training agreed to let Ondrew and I help Cala with her tribute outfit form before filling out our own forms. I didn't pay too much attention to the forms, just put down what I thought was reasonable, and tried to not give Cala anything that she could use as a weapon. Ondrew and I had silently come to the conclusion that any weapons our alliance had would be better off in our hands rather than Cala's.

After the stations were all explained, we headed out to our first spot of the day, which was water purifying, the least dangerous station I could think of. Ondrew and I would need to practice with some weapons and go to other potentially hazardous stations eventually, but we still needed to think of a way to keep Cala out of immediate danger, or a situation where Kane could tell her to kill or challenge someone, so we started off small.

The station wasn't really my specialty, nor was it Ondrew's or Cala's, so we moved on quickly, this time to the main camouflage station. Ondrew seemed to have a knack for it, and Cala did too, when she focused. I seemed to be okay at it, too, as York had to use odd forms of camouflage sometimes when he was trying to steal something, and had taught me some things.

Finally, I officially voiced my concerns about Cala to Ondrew. "We need to get to some, well, real stations eventually," I said, as quietly as I could where he could still hear me. "But I don't think that handing Cala a weapon is really such a good idea."

"You're right," he whispered back, letting Cala walk ahead of us towards the next station we were planning on going to--swimming. "But how?"

"I don't know; that's the problem," I said. "Just tell her to go on to swimming while we go somewhere else and then check on her at lunch?"

"Why don't we take her back to the camouflage? She seemed to like that."

"We'll take her to the other camouflage station, the one with the butterflies," I decided. "The instructor there seemed to be really nice." We hadn't been to that station, but we'd overheard him talking to some of the other tributes.

"Alright, then."

"Cala!" I called ahead of us. She was ignoring us. "Cala, it's Kane!" I tried that, and it seemed to work. She turned around to face both of us. "You should follow me," I said, loud enough that she could hear. Cala nodded. "Come on." I led her in to the butterfly room, and while Cala wandered around the room, Ondrew and I explained the situation to the instructor, who, even to my surprise, agreed that he'd made sure that Cala stayed there and was safe while we were at another station. "Thank you so, so much," I said.

"Ah, no problem," he said. "She'll be fine here with me."

"Let's go," I said, turning to Ondrew. We did a few stations, moving quickly--fire starting, archery, knife throwing, and climbing. It ended up going until after lunch, where we got Cala to go back to the butterfly station. She really seemed to like it there.

After day one, we mostly stuck together as a group, though day two seemed like a bit of a waste, because it took the whole day to get us all through the swimming station that we'd wanted to go to originally. The instructor was a bit stubborn and impatient when it came to working with us, particularly Cala.

On the last day, we tried to help Cala practice some things that she could do during her private session with the Gamemakers, mostly things that we'd already done. Ondrew said that he was going to show off some of his hunting skills, and none of us could really tell what Cala was going to do.

During my session, however, I decided to try something that might be a bit odd, combining the stations I'd been to--I painted myself with water-proof camouflage dyes that would hopefully disguise me once I got out of the water and on to the obstacle course (I'd already changed my clothes to be as appropriate as possible), swam across the pool, got out and practically flew through the obstacle course and then tried out some of the knives, throwing them at dummies that were at close range and hitting most of them.

Once I was dismissed, I went back to my room in the Training Center and took a rather long shower to get all of the dyes and such off of me, and then I dried off and changed in to warm clothes. Dinner flew by, and Mist said that during his training session, he'd tried out some of the weapons. When we got our scores, however, I wasn't sure how well that had gone for him. He got a four, Ondrew and I both got fives, and Cala got a two, and I wondered what she'd done to get that score. Depending on what it was, the Gamemakers were probably being oddly generous.

I supposed that my score could've been better, but overall, it wasn't as bad as it could've been.

It was never as bad as it could've been.

Not So Fun Times in the Face of Death: Namitha Gol, District 10 Female Tribute

It was way, way, way early in the morning when I got up on my first day of training. I threw on my clothes for the day--a simple lavender dress and dark brown cowboy boots, along with my district token, of course--the top hat with the boa and beads from Kayla and Ryan. As I

braided my hair in to one tight braid, an idea came to me. I was going to get Link from the District Seven floor before training, but I figured that maybe I could have some fun while doing so. I'd heard that all of the floors of the Training Center were sound-proofed separately, so if I set off the fire alarm on that floor, no one else would hear it... right?

I grinned, almost evilly, to myself, and opened the door to my room. Gavin would still be in the Tributes' Lounge--he'd said to me last night that he'd wanted to stay there for as long as possible, and hadn't said why. But it was a shame, really, he'd seemed like the type who would've loved to help me with my plan. The next person I thought of that would be willing to help me (here meaning, just join in the fun), was my mentor/cousin: Tara.

So I walked towards the end of the hallway, which was on the opposite side as the dining room, and knocked on her door, as quietly as I thought would wake her up. "Tara!" I called, also quietly. "Tara!" No answer. Finally, I got sick of it and shoved open the door to her room. "Tara!" I let my voice get slightly louder, for no reason, apparently, because she wasn't there. It looked like she had been fairly recently, but she wasn't there now. Must be in the dining room, I thought, and walked down to the other end of the hallway automatically.

But when I got there, I found Tara, all right, but not in the way that I expected. Because no tribute expects to wake up and find their mentor lying on the floor of the dining room. Dead. Blood flowed from a wound in her stomach, and a knife lied on the floor next to her. When I looked up for just a moment, I caught the words messily scrawled in her blood on the wall:

Welcome to the Games

I couldn't help it; I screamed. I was frozen--I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breath. Couldn't even cry or scream again. I just couldn't function.

I was vaguely aware of the sound of running footsteps from behind me, and I whirled around so fast that I nearly fell off my feet. But it was just Myra, our escort, and Kashton, Gavin's mentor.

"What in Panem--” They both froze, just as I had, but neither screamed. I lifted one hand to point to the words scribbled on the wall.

"Welcome to the Games," Myra choked out as a whisper.

There was silence for just a few moments as we all stared at the scene in front of us. It was so crazy, so unbelievable... who would do such a thing? And, why?

My throat finally released the tears that I'd been holding back, and they slid silently down my face. No one said anything, until Myra finally said, very quietly, "I'll call the Peacekeepers." She walked out of the room to go find a phone.

"You should go on to training now," Kashton said, non-sympathetically. "This changes nothing."

I wanted to scream at him, to tell him that this changed everything. And I did. "Are you crazy! This does change something! This changes everything! I had to leave everyone else back home! Tara was the only person I had left! The only one! You'd never be able to understand that! Your mentor didn't get murdered on your first day of training, did they?! Did they?!" I could almost feel myself slipping in to hysteria.

"You're not a child--you don't need your family here with you," he scolded. "Go. To. Training... Now, Namitha."

"But I'm a witness!" I blurted out. "I can't leave here! None of us can! I'm a witness to the murder of my own cousin and mentor! None of us are going anywhere! Not until the Peacekeepers show up and I can get my hands on whoever in Panem did this--"

"Fine. So you're a witness, technically. Big deal."

I couldn't help but scream again, concentrating on the words scrawled on the wall through the hot, salty blur of tears that was blinding me. Myra returned, looking slightly shaken. "They'll be here in just a moment," she said. "They said to not move or touch anything. And to certainly not leave."

Just as the last words were out of her mouth, there was a sharp rap on the door. She opened it with uncertainty, and three Peacekeepers came in to the room. Even they couldn't help but gasp at the scene. And behind them, in walked the president of Panem herself--President Paylor. She wasn't the "original" President Paylor from several years ago--the one who had started off as a Peacekeeper in District Eight, and ended up being sent to the Capitol, going on to become president--but she was her great-great-great-granddaughter or something like that.

Her presence was almost sort of intimidating. Her hair seemed to be its natural glossy dark brown, pulled up in to a bun. Her eyes didn't seem natural, but it was hard to tell--they were such a dark shade of brown that they appeared black, except they would flash a light brown in odd lighting. Her skin seemed natural, and fairly tan, though her facial features were all just a bit too perfect and drawn out. She was wearing a gray suit-dress type of thing.

I don't know why I was paying so much attention to her, but she was just the kind of person who made you pay attention to them when they were in the same room as you, extreme circumstances or not. "Get this all cleaned up," she instructed the Peacekeepers. "It's evidence. Take it back to the main lab. We've already gained the needed information from one supposed witness."

They started to follow her orders, and she turned to us--the District Ten team. "You are not to tell anyone about this. Only whom it is necessary to tell, and that shall be the job of the District Ten mentor. Whoever is told shall be informed that Tara Gol died of an unheard of fatal illness in her sleep. That is all. No one else is to know about this, until the whole country is informed. Even then, that is the story that you will tell. Do you all understand?"

We all nodded, a bit paralyzed in fear. The president wanted us to lie...?

"Good. I know that this whole process seems a bit strange now, but it will all make sense fairly soon. Kashton will take over the duties of mentoring both of the District Ten tributes. You, young lady--" She turned to me. "--go to training. immediately. Remember, do not tell anyone about any of this. Pretend that this never happened. Go!"

I all but ran from the room, not caring to stay there a second longer. On the floor of the training room, since I was still way, way early, I stopped in the bathroom to wash up--to get rid of the tearstains and such. I took a few very shaky breaths, swallowed hard, and tried my best to smile at myself in the mirror. I needed to pretend that none of that had happened.

So I walked out of the room, only assured by the fact that I was a good liar... I hoped.

But the words still echoed in my mind: Welcome to the Games

Somehow, anything could become creepy when it was written in your mentor's blood on a dining room wall.

To stall for time, I took as long as I dared to fill out my tribute outfit form, just putting down what I usually wore--cowboy boots, underclothes/socks, dress, my district token, etc.

Finally, I remembered that I'd never gotten Link from the District Seven floor. Oh, well, I'll see him in training...

We'd formed our alliance in the tributes' lounge last night, and we'd already been talking about who else we might want to include in our alliance, and had gone with the District Three pair, whom I made a note to talk to later about that. They both seemed pretty intelligent and they could be useful. In my mind, I thought of our alliance as being sort of like an "anti-Career Pack".

I was one of the first tributes to get to training, so I was waiting for a long time. Finally, Link showed up, and I was at least able to make small talk with him, though it felt like a chore. Once we were released, I decided to try a station that would be comforting for me--horseback riding.

Gavin was there as well, seeming shaken. He glanced at me as Link and I walked over, sort of sadly, really, and nodded. I did the same back. He understood. Link didn't catch it though, thankfully. No need to tell him about anything.

And, bingo. The District Three pair comes over as well, and Link smiles at me. I don't return it, because I just can't. Not right now.

"Alright, tributes, gather 'round, gather 'round," the instructor at the station said. "We're going to get you all saddled up here in just a moment, and then head out this door to practice riding. Why don't you folks all try it on your own first, getting on your horses, that is?"

I helped Link get on to his horse first (Gavin obviously didn't need any help), and told him that I was going to go talk to Callia and Newcomb. He agreed that it sounded like a good idea.

"Want some help?" I walked over to Callia and Newcomb, the District Three tributes.

"Uh... yeah," Newcomb admitted, with a small laugh.

"Great. Well, alright, then, here's what you do..." I showed him how to start off. "Make sure you hold on tight, if it's your first time around," I said, already moving over to help out Callia, explaining the same things to her. But Newcomb's horse started to back up slightly, and it was pretty funny to be able to see him freak out.

I laughed, "Don't worry, that's normal. He's probably just excited."

Once Callia was on her horse, I got on my own. "I'm Namitha, by the way," I called over to the pair. "My district partner, Gavin," I added without really thinking, gesturing to him. "And Link, my ally." I pointed to Link.

"Are we all ready to start?" the instructor asked from his position on top of his horse. We all nodded. "Let's start moving, then. Dig your heels in to your horse's side a bit." I wasn't really listening--this was all just so automatic for me. "And try to use the reins to guide them outside. Easy, though; take it slow." The horses seemed to be a bit too... tame. A bit too... trained.

Once we were out in the field, the instructor called, "Just try to get 'em to walk around the edges for a bit. Experiment, see what works, what doesn't. Don't worry, they won't run you in to the fence."

I got my horse to trot over to where Callia and Newcomb were. I said, "You know, I just started my alliance with Link last night, but we were already sort of speculating other people who could be allies with us, and he seemed to think that you two would be a good bet. Do you want to ally-up with us?"

He glanced over at Callia, and she nodded at him. Newcomb did, too, and said, "Sure."

We started talking as Link caught up to us and we all walked our horses around the field for a bit. Callia told Link and I about how she and Newcomb had already named our alliance, and we all agreed that we liked the name. Link filmed some of the scenery that we passed by, and eventually, Newcomb and Callia were both comfortable enough with the horses to climb off of 'em and go back inside.

We did survival type stations for the rest of the morning.

In the afternoon, we focused more on combat stations--knife throwing, archery, and

hand-to-hand combat. I have to admit that none of them were really our thing, but it helped me get my mind off of everything when I had to try harder, focus more. So I threw myself in to the training with everything I had. Not that it changed my results any.

The next day was a lot less eventful, more of your average day of training. And then, on the last day, we had our private sessions with the Gamemakers. I wished each of my allies good luck as they went in, since I was going to be the last tribute to go in from our alliance.

Finally, it was my turn. I wanted to do something with the horses, but I'd need to go outside for it... how would I explain that to the Gamemakers? I did everything that I could do inside first, gathering up all of the trapping material and such that I'd need and putting it in the saddle bag, and then climbing up on to my horse. "Follow me, folks!" I called, and then I realized how stupid and air-headed that sounded.

But I rode my horse outside of the room slowly, and waited for the Gamemakers to proceed outside as well. I got my horse to full out run around the ring a couple of times, and then I had it slow down and gradually stop near a tree just outside of the fence that I could reach a branch of from my sitting position on the horse. I pulled out the trapping equipment and set up my trap on that tree branch. Then I had my horse back up a bit, pulled out the dummy of a raccoon that I had brought with me, and threw it on to the trap. It closed shut around it, suffocating the dummy. I jumped down from my horse and did a small curtsy before I just started to walk back to my floor.

Later that night, I found out that I'd gotten a seven. It wasn't really that bad of a score--quite a good one, actually. Tara would be proud of me... I shook my head to rid myself of the thought as Gavin's score came up--a five. Average. Nothing special. The most common score amongst tributes.

But despite my earlier confidence, once I started trying to fall asleep that night, I wasn't quite so sure just how ready I was to face the interviews, and everything else that might just come next.

A Series of Organized Events: Replican Tally, District 5 Male Tribute

Edible plants.

Check.

Snares.

Check.

Water Purifying.

Check.

Hunting Strategies.

Check.

Fishing.

Check.

I looked over my list, checking it mentally to make sure that I'd written down all of the stations that I wanted to go to on my first morning of training. Both of our mentors were naturally focused on Vitality, and our escort was probably... somewhere. She seemed to be very forgetful, and mostly forgot about us tributes. Still, without the mentors' attention, it was hard to not regret my district partner. But I knew that it wasn't her fault--she hadn't asked for her mother to be a victor.

So it was up to me to get myself up and ready for training, to get my own breakfast, and to walk down to training by myself on time. Not to mention filling in my own tribute outfit form and still having to be on time.

But I was, thankfully. Barely.

The second that we were released, I headed straight to my first planned station--edible plants. There were three other tributes there--the District Eight pair, and another girl, from District... Six? Seven?

I started working on the first exercise--sorting a small pile of plants on to two pieces of paper--"edible" and "poisonous". I was sitting on the floor next to the girl who wasn't part of the District Eight set, a bit of a distance off from the other pair. But she kept watching the other two, listening to them talk. I wasn't paying attention, too focused on my own pile of plants. I was doing okay for the most part, because the poisonous plants just looked sort of, well, poisonous.

The instructor walked back over to the District Eight pair, and eventually, the girl (who I was pretty sure by now was from District Seven), walked over to the other two tributes, and I was alone. Not that I minded.

After a few corrections from the instructor, I seemed to have a pretty good hold on the edible plants, so a few minutes after the others all left, I did, too, figuring that it was about time to move on to my next station: snares. Also nicknamed trapping.

I needed a bit more help there--my hands just weren't cooperating with me! I got frustrated, but I didn't want to throw off my schedule, so I didn't leave early, and just stuck with it. But that was the only reason why I did.

I was glad once I was able to move on, though--to water purifying. That one was actually rather simple, and it gave me a nice, simple, yet absorbing thing to do. There were a few different methods--using iodine, boiling it, actually just running it through a filter of some sort, and then, my favorite, the natural filtering of running it over a lot of rocks. I didn't see how thorough it was, but it seemed to work okay.

Then I went over to where the station "Hunting Strategies" was. But there was only a note on a stand put up in front of the station. It read: Instructor will return after lunch. Sorry for the inconvenience.

What?! This totally offsets my schedule, my whole plan for training today! How could they do this?! They don't really seem all that sorry about it! Otherwise they would've announced it, right?!

My thoughts after I saw that sign.

But what could I have done about it? I just sighed and walked to the station that I was supposed to go to after that, which was fishing. But I was still fuming on the inside, admittedly.

I was good at the actual fishing in itself, but I wasn't so great at the making the fish poles or setting everything else. I stayed there for an extra amount of time, just to make up for not going to the Hunting Strategies station. I suppose that I could've just gone to another station instead, and switched out the time with the huntin' station, but I didn't think of it at the time, okay?

At lunch, I made my list of afternoon stations. I put down the Hunting Strategies station as the very first thing to go to, and then worked from there. I had time for about four more stations, I figured. So I put down swimming, climbing, and even the station that was upstairs on the track (it overlooked the main training room, going around it--I could see it from the gymnasium). But that was only three. So I decided to spend twice as much time on swimming.

I was so focused on the relief of the station being open after lunch that I don't think I really focused on what was being taught in itself. I remember a lot of exercises about how to be quieter when walking though, how to sneak up on prey/other tributes. Then I had to go to swimming.

Which, by the way, didn't go so well for me, so after the original amount of time that I'd planned to spend at that station, I just decided to spend that extra amount of time at the track later. Which I was eager to get to after doing the climbing, because that was just... not so fun, either.

But the track... I was used to the running--my dad, being the Peacekeeper that he was, had made me do a lot of running in the mornings. My mom had never liked it much, but she had agreed to let him try to "train" me. I think she was just grateful that just a few years before she and dad had gotten married, they changed one of the rules regarding Peacekeepers--they were now allowed to have families, even while they were "serving".

The track was good. It felt... right. Like home. And it wasn't all just running exercises--there was endurance, even a little bit of weight lifting. Tiring, it was, yes, but fun all the same. I left, smiling.

On the last day of training, we had our private sessions with the Gamemakers, which I'd been thinking a lot about during our second and third days of training. I'd already planned out exactly what I wanted to do, so when I walked in, I felt sure and confident.

When the person called my name, I sprinted in to the room, and ran clear across to the other side of the gymnasium, where I arrived at the hunting strategies station. There, they had a lot of various weapons, all collected together. I took all of the ones that you could throw, first, and aimed them at dummies all over the room. A little under half of them hit their targets. Then I picked up the ones that you had to aim and shoot with. The bow and arrows, which I was actually okay at, a slingshot, etc.

Then I ran right out of the room, and I kept going all the way up the stairs to the District Five floor.

That night, I kept trying to tell our mentors and our escort about what I'd done, but our escort wasn't paying attention, and the mentors were only focused on Vitality and how well she claimed she'd done with her knife throwing. It sort of made me want to ask: What about me?

When we got our scores, it only got worse. Vitality got a seven, and I got a five.

Excellent.

It could only get worse from here.

We Send Our Love: Fabian Bloom, District 1 Male Tribute

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the interviews for the 405th annual Hunger Games, also known as the seventeenth Quarter Quell!"

There was a roar of approval from the audience as the Games' classic interview host, mostly just known as Edalene, took her seat on the stage again. "First up tonight, there are a few announcements. First of all, as there is every year, when each tribute comes up to the stage, this

back wall over here--" she gestured to the wall that formed the background for the interviews-- "will become a backdrop of their official tribute profile--with important information for all of the sponsors out there, like what they did during their private session with the Gamemakers!"

That was one of the most important things that was revealed in your interview, what you did in your "private" session with the Gamemakers.

"And our second, and last, announcement is--drum roll please--" the audience did a massive drum roll-- "that this year, in honor of our Quarter Quell, after the visitation time on the day of the Reaping, all of each tributes' visitors got together and wrote them a letter, and then gave it to the present Peacekeepers, so that they could mail those very special letters to us, the Capitol! And we're going to read each of those letters during each tributes' five minute interview!"

My visitors. Shade. Devena. My little sister and my ex-girlfriend. This ought to be interesting.

"First up is our District One female tribute, Chenille Anders!"

It was impossible to pay attention to her interview, much as I tried. But I did listen to the letter, in case it would give me any hint of what the letters might be like. Hers read something like this:

"Dear Chenille,

We decided to divide this letter up, so, here goes:

Laecia:

My turn! Hooray! Well, sis, I guess that I just want to say good luck in the Games, and I really hope that you'll be my mentor when I go in to the Games in a few years. So, good luck! All of District One is rooting for you and Fabian! We love you!

Mom:

Chenille, I can still remember when you were so young. Things were so different then, and I never dreamed that you would ever turn in to the beautiful, intelligent, and strong girl, no, woman, that you're becoming. I'm, so, so proud of you--more than I'll ever be able to say in a letter. I'll be cheering you on every step of the way.

Denny:

Hey, Chenille. You are so, so, so, incredibly brave. I can't believe that I'm cool enough to be one of your friends. Remember to have fun in the Capitol! Enjoy it! Have fun! Really! Good luck!

The Lore Family:

We could never thank you enough for saving the life of our little Kophia. Thank you. So, so much. We send you our best wishes in winning the Games.

Love, Mom, Laecia, The Lore Family, and Denny"

It was actually quite the touching letter, especially the part from the family of the girl who must've been the one that Chenille volunteered for. It only made me look forward to/dread my letter even more. Chenille seemed to be slightly choked up at her letter.

I really couldn't pay any more attention after that, so I just got lost in my own thoughts until I heard: "Next up: Fabian Bloom, our other District One tribute!"

The screen changed so that it showed my tribute profile on the wall, and I stood up from the arc of tributes and walked over to where Edalene was. She shook my hand, and we both sat down in the interview chairs.

I made the mistake almost immediately of looking up in to the lights, which were a shimmering gold. They blinded me and probably weren't all that complimentary for most of the tributes, though from one of the screens I could see, they seemed to be working out for me and Edalene. The gold was the same color as Edalene's hair, eyes, and skin. All of her actually light (by Capitol standards) makeup was in the same sort of shade. Her clothes weren't, though, she was wearing a crimson colored, almost sort of wedding-style dress that had bits of snow-white lace at the ends of layers that reached the floor.

I was still blinking several times to try to recover from the glare of the lights, and Edalene just laughed lightly, and even her giggle seemed to have a Capitol accent to it. "Bright, yes?" she asked, clearly referring to the lights.

"Oh, no, not at all," I said, really over-doing the sarcasm for the sponsors' sake, trying for my most winning smile.

She went along with it. "Of course not! We wouldn't want to blind any tributes, now, would we?"

"Of course not!" I mimicked, imitating her fairly well.

She laughed again, and then says, "Now, Fabian, do you want to start off with your letter, or save it for later?"

"Whatever you think is best," I said agreeably.

"Why don't I read it now? I read all of the letters over before, and I found yours to be particularly fascinating."

Oh, excellent.

"Sure."

Without any form of introduction, Edalene began to read:

"Dear Fabian,

Shade here. Yeah, remember me, mister celebrity? That little sister that you ditched with your ex-girlfriend during the Games?"

Big laugh from the audience, and I felt myself turn slightly pink in the face against my will.

"I just wanted to say that everything here at home is going to be fine, and you shouldn't worry about it. Just focus on the Games, alright? For all of us back home? Pwetty pwease?

Anyways, I'm going to have to turn the microphone over to Devena in a second here, so, I love you. You're a perfect big brother."

Now the audience just sighed, and I felt a slight pang of... guilt? For leaving Shade alone? But, no, she wasn't alone. She had Devena, if no one else. But I still take a deep breath and brace myself for Devena's part of the letter.

I can't believe that this is about to be read on national TV, but this is the only way that I had to tell you about this, because I just couldn't bring myself to say it in the visiting time.

Breaking up with you was the worst choice that I ever made."

Mind reader!

"I just had to say that, and I hope that if (when) you get home, things might be different than when you left.

I promise you that either way, no matter what happens, I'll always be here to take care of Shade.

And, I love you, so you'd better come home.

Love,Shade and Devena"

"Well, that's quite the loaded letter," I said, my voice getting quieter.

"What was it that they were referring to, you think? About Devena taking care of Shade?"

I briefly explained the situation at home, how Shade was going to stay with Devena during the Games, etc.

"And, do you have any reactions for Devena's part of the letter? If you get what I mean?"

"I think that what she said goes for the both of us, Edalene. I really do."

The buzzer goes off, and my interview is over. Just like that.

Rebellious Silence: Kildaire Kalitlin, District 7 Female Tribute

My stylist and prep team had already left, so I was all alone in my final prep room for the interviews, which, in reality, was just my room of the Training Center. I watched myself in the mirror, knowing that I had to leave soon, but wanting just a few more moments of silence to myself. So I kept staring in to the mirror; I looked the same as I did at home, almost. Same limp blond hair. Same wide brown eyes. The only real differences were the slightest modifications from the styling team, and my outfit for the interviews--a shimmering silver dress and crown.

Finally, I went to meet the rest of the District Seven team, and hoped that I was ready to face whatever was going to happen during those interviews.

They were all waiting for me when I got to the main hallway of the District Seven floor--Link, both of our stylists and mentors, and our escort. There was a bit of idle chitchat for a while from everyone else.

"Have all of you heard?" Cordelia asked at one point, in barely more than a hushed whisper. "About the District Ten mentor?"

What? What happened? I was apparently not the only one who was lost, because everyone shook their heads.

"She died in her sleep, poor darling, just before the first day of training. Latest rumor was that it was just this freak virus or something-or-other. Still, tragic. And her poor little tribute, she was traumatized, apparently, though she'd never admit that. She was her little cousin, you know."

No, I didn't know that. Namitha? The sweet girl from District Ten, being related to a well-known victor? I didn't see it.

And no matter what Cordelia said, and even though the Games were already tomorrow, something didn't seem quite right about that virus, or the whole death in general. I had a feeling that it was something else. And by then, I was determined to find out exactly what.

I was still mulling over the thought when we made our way down to the interviews. Some tributes were already there, Namitha included. Most were chatting away with each other, especially within their alliances. But I didn't spot Kyler or Charity, so I just watched, as I always did. Mostly, I watched Namitha. She was talking to Link, mostly, who had just arrived with me. She was smiling brightly, laughing, even, spinning around to show off her interview dress. There was no sign of her trying to recover from the death of a close family member, not at all. She had to be a pretty good liar to get that past so many people, or at least be able to tell the story about the virus--because I didn't buy that. Not one bit.

I had to wonder how so many people even knew about that story so far. The first day of training--that would've been one, two, three... about four days ago, now. Not all that long in the grand scheme of things. The Capitol was full of gossip, yes, but still...

We had to start taking our places for the interviews, so my thoughts were interrupted.

They started off okay, to my relief.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the interviews for the 405th annual Hunger Games, also known as the seventeenth Quarter Quell!"

The crowd shouted its approval, and Edalene, the interview host, took her seat again. "First up tonight, there are a few announcements. First of all, as there is every year, when each tribute comes up to the stage, this back wall over here will become a backdrop of their official tribute profile--with important information for all of the sponsors out there, like what they did during their private session with the Gamemakers!"

I wondered why they called them your "private" session with the Gamemakers, in that case.

"And our second, and last, announcement is--drum roll please--that this year, in honor of our Quarter Quell, after the visitation time on the day of the Reaping, all of each tributes' visitors got together and wrote them a letter, and then gave it to the present Peacekeepers, so that they could mail those very special letters to us, the Capitol! And we're going to read each of those letters during each tributes' five minute interview!"

I wouldn't have a letter from home, then. There was no one who had visited me.

"First up is our District One female tribute, Chenille Anders!"

The Careers' interviews seemed a bit strange, that year. The first tributes', especially--she seemed to be going for a more innocent angle. The letters didn't seem to really be helping some of their resolves to actually try acting like Careers. Over the years, it seemed like the districts that generally produced the tougher tributes had started to become a bit almost... bored--with the Games.

And then they were calling, "Kildaire Kalitlin!" and I felt myself moving towards the tributes' spot on the stage.

"Now, Kildaire," Edalene started, "I heard a rumor that you don't really like talking. Is that true?"

I nodded. You could say that.

"And, I also don't have a letter from home for you--did you have any visitors after the Reaping?"

Almost visibly wincing, I shook my head. This was going to be one long interview.

And it was, let me tell you. Without the letter to fill up time, without me actually talking, it just dragged. A lot of it was silent, or simple yes or no questions from Edalene that I mostly just "nodded and smiled" to.

Afterwards, I was relieved that it was over, and just sort of wanted to bask in the glory of it all, but I didn't. I forced myself to watch the other tributes' interview with a fake amount of interest, and I really only paid particular attention to the District Ten interviews. The girl's, Namitha's, went pretty well, until they got to the letter from home. It mentioned her

cousin/mentor, Tara. Namitha kept up her smile though, and didn't even flinch as her family and friends' words went in that direction. And even Edalene gently eased her in to that direction, so it would be publically announced that Tara Gol, the famed victor, was, in fact, "deceased". But they still just told the virus story, and there was a moment of silence for her after Namitha's interview.

I paid attention to the boy's, Gavin's, too, looking for any sign of him being a suspect. But he just seemed like a kid--barely even a teenager--you could go so far as to say that he almost seemed care free and almost... happy. Was it because he had succeeded in a murder? No, probably not. He just didn't seem like the type. Either that or he sure was a good actor.

Because, for some, that was what those particular Hunger Games were all about. Lies. Deception. Conspiracies.

Just more misery.

It's Very Quiet Here: Caladium Velius, District 9 Female Tribute

"Ondrew! Ondrew, help me get Cala out of here!"

People ran about. Running, running, running.

Cala, go with your allies, you stupid girl!

"Allies...?"

"Ondrew! Where are you?!"

The people on the stage had stopped talking. There was blood on the stage. There was also madness.

"I'm here, Lina!"

Lina. Ondrew. The names were familiar to me...

Those are your allies, you--

Two loud bangs. The noise was from a long time ago. A long time ago, a long time ago...

"Help me get Cala away from all of this!"

Cala, that's you! Go!

I walked towards them. Walking had to be good. This wasn't good. Was moving on good?

"Cala!" It almost sounded like my mother's voice. Where was she, anyways? Why wasn't she here? Where was here? "Come with us, Cala! Go with Ondrew! He's going to take you back home! Home, do you hear me? Go with him!"

Home was in District Nine. There were twelve districts. Twelve was half of the number of tributes. The tributes were running all over the place now... Madness, madness, madness...

I felt something wrapped around my wrist. I looked up in to lots of flames, black eyes... did people have black eyes? People were everywhere, people were dead...

"Cala! Please! Just come with me! We need to get somewhere safer than this!"

Go, Cala. Go.

"Should I go, Kane?"

Do you really trust them?

"Cala! Please! Should I get Lina?"

Go with Lina, Cala.

"Lina." Had that been me talking, or Kane?

"I-I-I'll get her! Stay here, okay? Stay!" The person started to run. "Lina! Lina! I need your help!"

Everyone was running. We had to practice running in school sometimes. Was that for now? Did we have to run now? Everyone else was... everyone was a lot of people... lots of people were here... why were they all here?

There were some more loud bangs. I jumped. Someone familiar looking came up to me. Familiarity was good. Things at home were good. Things here weren't good. Here was in the Capitol. I thought.

This person's voice was quieter and softer. "Cala, we have to go now. Here, come with me, alright? Kane told me to come get you, he wants me to bring you to--"

More loud noises, more jumping. Was that me making myself jump? There was something softer around my wrist now. Where my bracelet was. My bracelet was silver. Silver like some clouds were. Clouds meant rain. Rain could be bad. Was it raining when I met Kane? Did that mean that he was bad?

I went with the two people, and I recognized where they took me. But before that, we were in a very small space. After that we were somewhere else. I'd been there earlier. Earlier, I'd been other places, too. There were different people.

"All tributes please report to your district floors, repeat, all tributes please report to your district floors; thank you." The voice was robotic. Robots were technology. Technology was good. It was helpful. My allies were helpful.

"Cala, just stay right here. Stay with Ondrew. Don't wander off." One of the people left, but more came in from where we'd been earlier.

Stay, stay, stay... stay! Don't move Cala.

"Okay, Kane."

Why should I stay?

More people came. They made sure that I was there. Kane told me to say that I was fine. I did. The people seemed happy. They said something to the other person. I think his name was Ondrew. Was he my ally? What was an ally?

Ondrew, whoever he was, took me to another room. It seemed familiar. "Cala, you should go to sleep now."

I... I think you can trust him. Do what he says. See if you end up dead.

It was quieter there, which was fine. Quiet was good. Lots of things were quiet. Lots of things weren't quiet, too. Those bangs had been loud. Were they bad? Were loud things bad?

The room was large like the other one was. How had I gotten here?

Your allies got you here Cala.

Where am I?

I felt tired. Being tired wasn't good. A lot of things weren't good. The Games weren't good. The Games were soon, I thought. Weren't the interviews soon? Had we been there? Where would the interviews be?

Go to sleep, Cala.

I stood up. Then I sat on the bed. I had a bed at home. This wasn't it. Home was in District Nine, wasn't it? Home was far away from where I was right now. Being far away wasn't a good thing. Being far away meant that you couldn't see someone. If you couldn't see someone, they could kill you. In the Games, they could kill you. The Games were soon. I thought that they were tomorrow.

I laid down on the bed and closed my eyes. I remembered a song that talked about closing your eyes.

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes, and when again they open, the sun will rise...

I closed my eyes tighter. When I woke up, the sun would rise. I was tired. In the morning, I'd have to rise, too. I couldn't sleep. Sleeping could make you vulnerable, anyway. I got up again, I walked around. I tried to sleep again. I fell asleep.

And when I woke up, the sun still hadn't risen.

Honesty Might Not be the Best Policy: Marco Chase, District 2 Male Tribute

I walked up to my spot on the stage, glaring out at the audience, even as they cheered. Edalene waited for me to sit down before starting the rush of questions. "So, Marco, how's your experience here in the Capitol been so far?" she prompted.

"What can I say? It's the Capitol," I said, intentionally emphasizing the word "Capitol". Edalene looked a bit uncomfortable with my answer, and quickly changed the subject. I didn't

care.

"Do you want to hear your letter from home?" she asked.

"Nice attempt at changing the subject," I complimented. "But sure, let's go along with it."

A bit of awkward silence as she dug around in the pile for my letter. "Ah, here we are," she said with a bit of a nervous laugh. "Marco Chase. Let's see what it says, shall we?" She tore open the envelope, and began to read:

"Dear Marco,

I hope that you're liking the Capitol so far."

Oh, brother.

"Because if you're not, than that's really bad for you, since you're probably going to die soon. So just come back home. Please?"

It was obvious that Fade had to be writing this. I doubted that my only other visitor, Damon, would really be the type to care about what was in my letter.

"For me. District Two really wants one of our tributes to come home, and a lot of people really do want it to be you."

Hmm, and I wonder why that might be? I glanced at my oh-so-innocent-looking district partner, hoping that that wasn't just an act that would end with a knife in my back later.

"So, if you don't come home, the whole district'll hate you. No pressure.

Love, Fade

PS. Damon says--Come home or die."

"So, what'd you think of that?" Edalene asked.

"Sounds just like what they would say," I said, just being honest again.

"Well, that's good to know. Now, tell me, Marco, as a Career, are you looking forward to the Games?"

"Now, tell me, Edalene," I started, mimicking her pathetic Capitol accent, "are you looking forward to possibly watching me die?"

I waited to see what she would say to that. If she said "yes", everyone would hate her for

admitting that she was looking forward to someone's death. If she said "no", that would be taken as rebellious and she would surely be punished for that later. Pay for it dearly--most likely with her own life. "Oh, yes, very funny," she laughed, clearly sounding like it was forced, successfully brushing off the question. "I heard that you had an interesting reason for volunteering--care to share?"

"I volunteered so that my sister and I wouldn't have to live in the community home anymore."

"But wouldn't you be released from it once you were out of the Reaping? Which would've been a few days ago now, actually..."

"Fade wouldn't have been released from it. And I wouldn't have had a way to earn any money or stay alive. So what would the point of waiting have been? Seems like living in the Victor's Village would be better, even if I had to put up with my brat of a little sister all of the time. But, I get it, someone from the Capitol wouldn't understand that."

I didn't really care what Fade would say about that comment when I got home at that moment. And yes, I did say "when", and not "if". "Ah, yes, sibling relations are always fascinating," Edalene said, trying to look amused more than nervous, and failing at that. "Anything you'll say about this year's Career pack?"

"I bet that these Games are sure going to be interesting," I answered, still smirking. I didn't comment any further because I didn't really have a wish to get killed by any of my fellow Careers. They probably wouldn't be all that nice about it, and my death wouldn't be anything that I'd want Fade to be watching. "We have an... interesting dynamic."

Where to begin, if I'd said what I had really thought of my allies. Chenille, only fifteen with no real training that I could see other than from her mom, and already injured before the Games even began. Fabian, who seemed more interested in trying to flirt with all of the girls than in winning the Games. Samantha, who just seemed naive. I mean, she hadn't even volunteered for the Games! She'd been reaped! Coincidence is what I call that. Neither her or Fabian seemed to have a lot of training, either. Not that I did. But at least I'd be able to defend myself. Fabian's situation I could at least relate to a bit--him having to get back to Shade and all. Too bad he won't. And then there was Ionia, the quiet, yet somehow intelligent, girl from District Four. She always seemed to be a step ahead of the game, which could be dangerous later on. Or useful, if she was as loyal as she seemed. Arsin was potential competition. Strong, the only Career with training not gained from just a family member, and arrogant, he was definitely the definition of a Career. But what did that really mean, to be a Career?

"I bet you do," Edalene said. "Have an interesting dynamic, that is." The buzzer went off, loudly and abruptly ending the interview. "Well, everyone, that was Marco Chase, District Two male tribute! Up next is Callia Marshan! Stay tuned!"

On Our Own: Ionia Kai, District 4 Female Tribute

The day of the interviews started off lazily for me. For a long time that morning, I just laid in bed and watched the sun rise slowly over the distant mountains. First the lighting in the room was still just the moon's glow, accompanied by sparse Capitol lights. Then it transformed in to a soft gray light that eventually glowed bright pink. Finally, I decided that I should get out of bed. I was never a late sleeper, and I don't plan on becoming one now, not right before the Games. So I pulled back my covers, instantly grabbing it again to wrap it around myself as I stood up and stretched a little bit. The clock told me that it was almost exactly six-thirty in the morning. Later than I usually woke.

I dressed and washed quickly before I went out to the breakfast table. I was already starting to wonder where my stylist and prep team were. Shouldn't they have been there already? I tried to shake the thoughts as I waited at the breakfast table, going over some of my interview plans that I'd reviewed with my mentor the day before.

I was planning on mostly talking about why I had volunteered for the Games--which was my promise to my dad, of course. From so many years ago...

I snapped myself back to reality again, shaking my head to get rid of the thoughts.

I just sipped my hot chocolate and picked at some of the pastries that were assorted on the table while I waited. Arsin was probably already with his prep team already, and no one else was in sight of the dining room, except for some of the Avoxes who were, of course, silent. After what must have been an hour of this, I realized that my styling team was not going to show up. But when I went back to my room, I found something lying on my dresser.

No note. No explanation. No message of any sort. Just a simple garment bag waiting for me, laying on top of my dresser, labeled "Interview". I opened it hesitantly, and pulled out what had to be my interview outfit. I groaned the second I saw it. I'm sure that it was a perfectly beautiful outfit, to just about anyone else, but I could not stand dresses. I pulled it out anyways, and draped it over one of my arms. It was very simple--just a silken, sky blue dress that reached to about my knees, with a silver shrug added to it. I didn't find any shoes included.

I started to look around the room, trying to really figure out the electronic closet so that I could find a pair that might be suitable for the interview. Finally, I found a simple pair of white sandals and selected them from the touch screen. They appeared shortly, raised up from the closet floor. I retrieved them gingerly and set them next to the dress on my bed.

I guessed that I would be preparing myself for the interview then. Where was my stylist? I knew that he was a bit lazy, but not showing up at all? Wow.

I got myself in to the high-tech Capitol shower, struggling with the what must have been hundreds of dials and switches. Eventually, I got it to a fairly normal setting and was able to proceed without trouble.

About fifteen minutes later, I was dry at last, and had found a nice, thick bathrobe that was even warmer than the blanket. I put on the outfit for the interview carefully, and then realized that my prep team would've been doing my hair and makeup to perfection before the interview. But I didn't really bother, and just left it as it was. That would probably still be better than half of the other tributes' outfits.

I wasn't saying that to sound arrogant--I was saying that to be honest. I just didn't see the sense in keeping around some of the stylists that they had working for the Games. They had no talent, no experience, no common sense... no... anything! Like that one from District Eleven who was colorblind... it felt like the Capitol was just trying to mock us even more.

Feeling a bit proud of myself for managing to get myself ready, I realized that the interview wouldn't be for another--I glanced at the clock--four hours. And even that would be if we left a bit early, and the interviews were already taking place a bit earlier in the evening than they usually did.

So for that whole amount of time, (feeling quite unproductive, I might add), I just paced around my room, letting whatever thoughts came to me come and go as they wished. But you don't have the most pleasant thoughts the day before you go in to the arena--a Career or not.

Finally, Esther came to collect me, and I walked out to the main room with everyone else. Present were only Arsin and his stylist and prep team, Esther, both of our mentors, and me.

We started to head out for the interviews, and there was some conversation amongst the Careers before we had to take our places. Some people joked about what they were going to say during their interview, others barely said a word, and some just tried to get in one strong glare at every camera that was there.

I couldn't say that I blamed them, but it seemed to be in our interest to get sponsors, so I didn't see the point of turning off the audience.

Because even with help, even with our families and friends and allies and sponsors, even with our mentors, escorts, stylists, prep teams, even with our fellow tributes and everyone else--we were on our own.

We were all on our own.

Of Questions, Songbirds, and Attention: Mist Stainsleew, District 12 Male Tribute

"Mist! Focus! Pay attention!"

I blinked several times and tried to really look at Keira, my mentor, who was standing right in front of me.

She sighed. "Let's try this one more time. When Edalene calls your name, you go up to the tributes' spot and then say what?"

"I don't say anything at first; I shake her hand and then sit down and wait for the first question." I thought that was what she had said earlier.

Keira smiled for just a second, and then it started to fade as she said, "Yes. Very good, Mist. You're doing a lot better."

That had to be good... right? If I was doing better?

"Now, I'm going to ask you some of the common questions that are asked at the interviews, and you just answer them as best you can, alright?" She paused, as if waiting for someone to answer. "Here's question number one--who are your family and friends back home?"

"The songbird," I said. "He's my friend."

"A... what?"

"The bird," I tried to explain. "He sits outside the coal mines and sings for anyone who'll listen every day... usually it's just me..." It made me wish that I was back in the mines.  

"Um... alright, then. What about this: what do you think of the Capitol so far?"

"It's very bright. Lots of lights. Lots of people and technology. Lots of weird things."

"Try cutting that last sentence," Keira suggested, and I wondered what the last sentence was. "And say something else--what do you think of all of those people? Have they been nice to you? What about me or your stylist, or just somebody! What about Lina?"

Those were a lot of words to process at once. "Um... people are nice here. Nicer than in District Twelve."

"Again with possibly cutting the last sentence. Just remember that all of Panem will be hearing this. You don't want a lot of people to hear you say that. It's okay for now, because I'm the only other person here, but later on, you'll need to think about what you say before you answer. But don't take too long..." She started to look... confused? And her voice grew sharper. "Mist! Mist! Listen to me! What did I just say?"

"You said 'what did I just say'?"

Keira looked like she might explode just like a dangerous part of one of the mines. "Fine, fine, nice one. Anyways..." She closed her eyes, which I didn't really understand since it was still light outside, and then she just sighed and opened them again like it was a different morning. "Why don't we take a break for lunch?"

I nodded. Lunch was food, and that sounded pretty good to me at that moment. She led me in to a different room, where "lunch" was. There were some other people there. One of them

looked like they could be from the Seam. After we were done being in that room, Keira told me to go with our escort. I went with "our escort", Laetitia.

She was working with me on different things than Keira had. More about sitting up straight and walking right and talking clearly. The last one was the hardest out of all of them.

"Mist, speak slowly and clearly," she said. "Just say something simple. Introduce yourself or something."

"Hi, I'm Mist," I said, but Laetitia just sighed again.

"No," she said. "That's not it; think about it. Go slowly, and don't mumble."

This repeated for lots and lots of time.

Finally, we got to stop and eat again. I was glad that whatever we had been working on for today was over. Dinner was pretty normal, well, whatever "normal" had been for the past bit of time.

Afterwards, I couldn't think of anything to do, really, so I headed up to the tributes' lounge. There were a few other people there, who I guessed were tributes. I wasn't quite sure of what to do, so I just wandered around the room, not really paying attention to anything. There was a lot of background noise. But then there was a much quieter conversation going on in a tight corner of the room. There were tributes that, from what I heard, were from districts seven, eight, and eleven. I decided to ignore the conversation, though it did seem a bit odd. I caught a few words like "dead" and "District Ten" and "mentor" and "who's next". But I wasn't really listening too hard. The people back at the community home had said that listening to other people's conversations weren't nice. So I didn't.

After a while, I wandered back down to the District Twelve floor and went to my room. I felt like there was something important coming up soon. Maybe it was tomorrow or the day after. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was.

Once I was there, I continued to just pace for a little while. I didn't feel like sleeping--that caused lots of nightmare/flashback things. So I stayed awake and walked around, without much difficulty, since I had a lot of experience with it. And I tried to figure out what was coming next that I actually needed to focus on. Because I could just feel it coming, even though I didn't know how. I could feel it approaching like a large fire in the mines--I'd seen those types of things before. It was always just there, coming straight towards you, and there was nothing you could do about it.--and it wasn't going to go away.

Videos of Death: Ellink Lamont, District 7 Male Tribute

I couldn't help but gasp when I saw the studio that we were going to be filming the interviews in. Call me a geek, but this had to be the most amazing place that I'd ever seen, in the middle of the Capitol or not. I wished that Rhett was there, just so I could see his face when he looked around at everything. The intricacy of the camera setup, the spotlights, the light board, and the sound system--it was all just so... wondrous.

I pulled out my own little camera, and, as discreetly as possible, did a quick sweep of the room. Even if I died in the arena, my district token would be sent back home. Rhett would see the footage of the parts of the studio that you couldn't see on television--and it was certainly nothing that he would've seen otherwise back in District Seven.

Mission to be discreet: failed.

One of the real cameramen walked over to me. "Hey, kid, what’s doin'?" I shoved the camera back in my pocket hastily.

"Oh, nothing," I lied, trying to sound convincing.

He clearly didn't buy it. "Camera geek, are we?"

I worked up the courage to nod, my heart rate going through the roof as I realized that that kind of footage getting out might be illegal or something.

"Don't worry, kid, no one's going to arrest you or anything. Call you a nerd, sure, but not arrest ya'."

I tried to not make my sigh of relief too pathetically obvious. It wasn't like I wasn't used to being called a nerd. I forced a laugh. "Good thing, too," I said. "Wouldn't want to lose one tribute before the Games even started, would we?"

"No, no," he agreed. "Well, I should go get ready for the interviews. Good luck. You'll need it."

I didn't quite like that last sentence, but I just went with the flow and walked over to my seat for the interviews.

And it was all going so well, too, until that one last interview of the night. I was done with mine; I could relax for a bit. But, no, of course not. These were the Games. There was no down time. The last tribute, Mist, had brought up something that he heard about the death of Namitha's mentor. I'd heard about it, naturally, but not like how Edalene described it.

"Yes, yes, very strange," she said. "Especially those words on the wall that I heard about--Welcome to the--” She never got to finish that sentence. There was one loud bang from the back of the room, and within an instant, Edalene collapsed out of her chair, to the floor.

Dead.

What was it that she was talking about? Wasn't Tara just killed by a virus?

I guessed not.

And within that same instant, the entire studio descended in to pure chaos. All of my fellow tributes were trying to get back to the main room of the Training Center, so they could go back to their floors without getting hurt. I joined the race for the door without hesitation, though I practically got trampled. Being one of the last people out, I could just make out a few more gunshots. But every tribute that I could see was still alive. So who was it that was dead? Just one of the audience members caught in the chaos? Why would the Capitol kill one of its own people?

Once I had enough space to really move and not just shuffle along, I didn't stop sprinting until I had reached the District Seven floor. And then I realized that I had no idea where any of my support team was. I had no clue where Kildaire had disappeared off to. I didn't know where the rest of the Alliance of the Mockingjays was. Really, I knew nothing.

Everyone from the District Seven floor started to return, easing some of my concerns. I'd only be able to check on my allies in the morning--we were all under a lockdown, where we couldn't leave our floors. As for me, I just went to my room and got ready for bed, but in my paranoia, I left an extra set of clothes, complete with shoes, just by my bedside.

It wasn't exactly easy to sleep that night. Not with everything that had happened.

So I tossed and turned and stared in to the darkness for as long as I could stand it. I wanted to know what Edalene had meant. I wanted to know why she had been killed. I wanted to know more about Tara's death. I wanted to know what was going on. I wanted to know more about these Games, even though the events of today had almost blocked them out of my mind.

I had to know something. I couldn't stand that not knowing for once.

Eventually, I couldn't even force myself to stay in bed. I got out of bed and walked around the room. I opened my window and stared out in to the Capitol streets, letting the night air wash over me. My thoughts were becoming repetitive, and, quite frankly, redundant--going in one big circle and getting me nowhere.

Then I'd force myself to lie down again, fail at sleeping, and then get back up. Eventually, I refused to even let myself stand up anymore, telling myself that I was going to stay in that bed in my room at the Training Center until at least sunrise whether I liked it or not.

And I didn't like it. I just couldn't stay still.

But, still, sleep took over me eventually, and I fell in to the welcoming darkness.The Last of the Good Times: Gavin Tryst, District 10 Male Tribute

For someone who had just lost a close family member, Namitha seemed to be just a bit too cheerful. She did have some moments where she'd snap and drop the facade, lashing out at whoever was nearby at that moment (and it was not fun when I was on the receiving end of that, let me tell you). But the rest of the time, it was as if nothing had happened. Namitha was back

to the girl that I had seen turn down a volunteer on Reaping Day and wave for the crowd during the opening ceremonies. Back to normal.

I had my own concerns during our preparation days for the interviews. Kashton and Myra kept giving me these weird looks, and Namitha did, too, really, though she was a lot better at hiding it--for the most part. And I couldn't figure out why. I guessed that I might be giving people some weird looks after everything that had happened, but I didn't know why they were all directed at me and at no one else from what I could tell.

The preparation days up, the last bit of time before the interviews were left to our stylists and prep teams. My stylist, Jaxx, kept making his strange demands of my prep team--first telling them to repeat everything that they had done for the opening ceremonies, a rather painful experience, which meant a lot, coming from me.

I was grateful once they deemed me ready for the interviews and we went to join Namitha, her styling team, and Myra and Kashton. I couldn't help but feel bad for Kashton, because I could imagine that he would've also known Tara very well, and now having to take on the work of mentoring both of the District Ten tributes instead of just me. Not like I knew anything about mentoring "behind the scenes", but I could assume that it was a lot of very hard work while the tributes were in the arena.

Plus he probably had to deal with all of the conspiracies flying around about Tara's death and such. That had to be fun.

I remembered how I had always wanted to be able to have a good time in the Capitol before I, you know, got sent off to my almost certain death and all. That hadn't really worked out for me. The Games were even more overwhelming than I thought that they'd be. Darryl and Dylan wouldn't be so proud of me if they knew about everything that was going on.

With a slight, uncharacteristic sigh, I tried to bring myself in to the conversation that was going on around me. Myra was giving more last minute instructions for the interviews, like: "You have to remember to sit up straight. Walk properly. Be polite. Stay on your best behavior." Again with a strange glance in my direction. "Remember to smile; look up and out at the crowd whenever possible."

I nodded, trying to look polite despite everything. Mom would've killed me if I didn't, and she found out about it. Though it was unlikely that she ever would.

Once we all started to head down to the floor of the Training Center that was used for the interviews, I felt a bit of nerves start to set in. There weren't a lot of things that I got nervous about. It took a lot to make me reconsider something. But by the time we started to approach the stage to take our places, I thought that someone might have to force me on to the stage. Even the Games and the prospect of death seemed faded out compared to the immediate situation here in front of me. And I couldn't shake the feeling that something else would be going wrong very soon. Everything here in the Capitol was suspenseful and mysterious.

Finally, I just sat down and took my place, feeling unable to do anything else. I felt even a few odd glances from some of my other tributes. I looked down at my outfit, and while it wasn't the best, it wasn't so strange that it would make them look at me like that. When I looked up, I realized that I wasn't going crazy, I wasn't hallucinating--I really was getting a few weird glances--mostly from the Districts Four and Seven girls and then... Edalene? The host of the interviews for before and after the Games? Why would she be...?

I trailed off in my own thoughts and shook my head. No. Now I was going crazy. I was just being paranoid. It was just the Games getting to me--that was all it was. Great. The Games haven't even started yet and I'm already losing my mind.

There were a few announcements and such before the interviews started that I didn't really listen to. The nerves were taking over again. And that was really saying something for me.

The Careers' interviews didn't quite seem to be... "Careery". The District One girl seemed to even be going for the innocent angle. The boys from Districts Two and Four seemed to be the closest to your normal Careers, but there was even something off about them.

The boy from District Six definitely seemed to be a threat as well--though it was almost a bit confusing to watch his interview. The girl from Seven didn't even talk for her whole interview. Was it her that had never said a word? The boy from Eight looked strong but seemed too kind to really be a concern. And there was definitely something up with the girl from District Nine.

And then it was my turn to take my place on the stage.

I shoved my nerves aside with as much courage as I could build up and I walked up to the stage, knowing that I was ready for this.

When the Blood Begins to Flow:

As the sun rose over the arena, twenty-four tributes stood on their metal plates that were arranged in a perfect circle around the glinting, golden Cornucopia, which was overflowing with supplies--things that would be the key to their very survival in this arena of horrors. But they could only even see part of it, part of the arena, that was. All they could see was the circular

hedge going around the edges of the tribute plates, and the five openings in it that led out in to the maze that was formed by the hedge--leading out in to five more exits, that led in to the five sections of the arena--one section for each of the five objects.

Speaking of which, what were they, those five objects, anyways? As the tributes continued to wait, five books, yes, books, shot straight up in to the air above them, and then dispersed in to the five outer sections, not to be seen until later on in the Games.

The tributes, fascinated, watched until they faded from view.

It couldn't be much longer, now, just a few more seconds... five, four, three, two, one.

Zero.

The gong rang out, and the four-hundred-fifth Hunger Games began.

As the tributes sprinted forwards, the words echoed overhead: "Ladies and gentlemen, let the four-hundred-fifth Hunger Games begin!"

The Careers all ran straight to the Cornucopia, itching to get their hands on some of the weapons. They were, naturally, some of the first tributes there, already armed with weapons of choice before everyone else closed in. "Samantha! Ionia! Start getting the supplies together! Drag them off to the side or something! We'll hold off everyone else!" The voice belonged to Arsin, unmistakably. The two girls, though they clearly weren't happy about it, did as he asked, just grabbing things and dragging them off to another spot that was guarded by Arsin and Marco. Fabian and Chenille were battling it out with everyone else, killing off as many tributes early on as possible.

November.

Mist.

They were gone in seconds, both having tried to run individually, but failing as weapons flew at them from all directions.

The District Three tributes had found their two allies. They'd sneaked up to the edge of the supplies, grabbed a few of the first things they got their hands on, and run off already.

Vitality was also among some of the first few tributes at the Cornucopia. She'd gotten her hands on a knife or two, now, and was approaching the Careers. "I always knew she'd be a threat," Chenille mumbled to herself, ducking to avoid the other girl's first attack without really thinking.

Vitality had already thrown both of her knives, though, meaning to hit the District One tributes. But they both missed their target, and now, she was the one deflecting their attacks as she picked up a sword from the massive pile. Fabian had his hands on a bow and a set of arrows,

ready to go for action. He launched a few straight at her, which Vitality deflected with almost pitiful ease. She went for the most basic form of hand-to-hand combat at that point, still fighting. She knocked the weapon out of Fabian's grasp, and they were both going at it--punching, kicking, and struggling against each other. It was hard to tell who was doing the best--they'd both gotten quite the impressive amount of injuries already.

Finally, as Vitality had her knife again, pinning Fabian down, ready to give the audience a good show, just as she'd always promised herself she would--her cannon fired. Chenille's knife flew right in to her before she could make one more move to kill a Career, and it was her own cannon that fired. Fabian found himself drenched in some of her blood, not to mention his own, and had to push her body off of himself to get upright again. The Careers were on the move.

The other District Five tribute, Tal, had his own elaborate plan. He grabbed a few things off of the side, including a spear. Feeling his dad's own ruthlessness coursing through his veins, he aimed it straight at the only District Ten tribute that was still at the Cornucopia, but trying to run--Gavin.

His cannon fired.

Next, retrieving a knife this time (which there seemed to be more than plenty of), Tal went after the next tribute he saw--Charity of District Eight. Something coming to life in his eyes, he sprinted towards her, and pinned her against the hedge as best he could. But he didn't kill her just yet--he let her squirm and scream for her allies, clearly regretting the decision to go against Kyler's orders for her and Kildaire to run, to let him get the supplies...

"What in Panem do you think you're doing?" Tal jumped a foot in the air at the angry roar from behind him. Was that really Kyler? The same friendly boy who had charmed Panem in his interview? "You will regret this decision!"

One slash of Kyler's sword, and Tal's cannon fired. Kyler was glad that they had decided to fire cannons during the bloodbath instead of afterwards a few years back--there was more satisfaction in a kill that way. Being sure of it.

After a rather insistent check on Charity, he grabbed his other ally as well, and the District Seven/Eight alliance ran off in to the hedge.

Kizzy, not to be outdone by anyone, ran forwards from her tribute plate, but almost seemed to take her time in doing so. And, to all of Panem's surprise, pulled out a sleek knife from one of her pockets. You're not the only one who can play that game, Tod, she thought, and, with those final words still in her mind, sent the knife flying towards her district partner.

Tod's cannon fired.

She ran forwards once again, faster this time, and stole the weapon that she knew he still had from him, as well as the backpack he had grabbed on his way to the battle. With a few more objects in hand, Kizzy took off as well.

The District Nine and District Twelve girls had had similar orders to the two female tributes in the District Seven/Eight alliance. They had been told to run--by Ondrew. But, also not unlike the other alliance, Lina didn't run. She ran to the edge of the supplies by her ally's side, but Cala just ran for her life in to one of the hedge's openings. She was somewhat aware that she had allies, and so wasn't planning on going far--she'd let them find her, after all of this initial madness was over with, naturally.

But Ondrew didn't last long. Within just a few seconds, his cannon fired.

"Ondrew! No! No!" Lina never really found out for certain who it was that killed Ondrew that day, but was almost certain that it was Tod. Before she could find a weapon to kill, however, merely seeking raw revenge, Tod's cannon fired anyway, at Kizzy's hands and not hers. Lina took two seconds to bend down, tears pooling in her eyes, and close Ondrew's eyelids, lightly and with care, before she took his supplies, knowing that he would've wanted her and Cala to have them, and ran off to find her other ally.

Maine had taken on the Careers at the Cornucopia battle, as Vitality had, getting a large amount of supplies for himself. The Careers also thought that he was a threat, but at the time that he arrived, they had their hands full with Vitality already. And he wasn't going after the supplies that they'd already claimed, so whether it was a miracle, skill, or just luck, Maine Hofman, like many of his fellow tributes, started to run.

Seven cannons had fired. Seven tributes dead on the first day. Seven innocent children that would never go home again, never see their families... ever again. Vitality. Tal. Tod. Gavin. Ondrew. November. Mist.

In all but the most ruthless tributes' minds, the same question echoed: Had any of them really deserved to die?

Caves of Discovery (Day One): Kizzy Ericssen, District Six Female Tribute

Once I finally got out of the maze--which really wasn't much of a maze, as it was just a giant hedge-lined path spiraling outward from the Cornucopia that made you pick an exit--I decided that I liked the part of the arena that I was in. In front of me appeared to be: nothing. Right where I was standing and just a few yards in front of me, there was a relatively flat, rock

type of ground. And then it dropped off completely in to what seemed like a giant hole, the rock wall going down and around all of the edges, just carved enough to be able to climb. There, a repeat of what was up here--just rock. Except it led in to what seemed to be the beginning of a cave, going in to the rock wall on the other side. To my left and right were what seemed to be different parts of the arena that I didn't bother paying attention to.

I had shoved all of my supplies in to the backpack that I got from the Cornucopia, and I tried to think of how to get it down to the bottom of this cliff with me. I wasn't too high up--could I throw it? I hesitated on that one--I didn't know what was in the bag, if there was anything that I could break, and I didn't want to just waste my time standing here and going through it.

It wasn't ridiculously heavy, so maybe I could've just worn it and climbed down. But what if it got caught on something? That was a risk that I was just going to have to take. I took two seconds to take my knife out of the backpack, putting it in a more conviniently located outside pocket so I could get to it easily if I met any challenges. And with that, I started to climb.

Now, let me tell you, easing yourself over the edge of a cliff is not as easy or fun as it may sound. It's quite terrifying, in fact. Nothing compared to the initial bloodbath, but, still. Once I was over the edge, though, it got a bit easier, as if a bit of weight had been lifted from the task. I glanced down to see that I was just a few inches above a rather large ledge, and I lifted my feet from the parts of the rock that I had planted them in and gradually let my fingers slide from the edge, which I was still clinging to. I hit the ledge just a bit harder than I'd thought I would, but, hey, I was still on my feet and alive, so I guess that it wasn't a total failure after all.

I continued down for the next twenty or so feet, and then I was at another ledge hanging just a few feet over the ground. I just jumped, landing semi-smoothly, knees stiffly bent to take the weight of the fall. But just as I was about to let out a breath of relief, my backpack came slamming down on to my shoulders after me, dragging me to the ground.

"Oof." The impact knocked the air out of my lungs, but I stood as quickly as I could, not wanting to be caught by another tribute being vulnerable. Taking one last glance up at the bright blue sky, I set out in to the darkness of the cave.

Darkness. Just pure, solid black accompanied by silence. It was hopeless--I just couldn't see two feet in front of me. "Uh... hello? Gamemakers? Lights would be nice right about now!" Not like I expected anything to happen, but it was worth shot.

And, guess what: it worked. The rock surrounding me all started to glow. Yes, glow. What, were these sound activated or something? "Thanks a lot!" I called, as sarcastically as I could, not even caring if there were any other tributes around. The soft, sort of green light gave me confidence. However, the lights did not also activate any sort of heating system, so it was still freezing in there. I pulled my district token, my old jacket, a bit tighter around myself.

I decided to just keep moving forwards. This was the only place in this section that there

could've been hiding one of the five objects. So I had to be going to the right place. Whenever I reached a place that I absolutely had to turn at, I went right. I figured that that way I'd know how to get back out again. If I ever got back out. But I knew that I would. I had to. I'd find this object and then go. And that would be that.

Finally, I decided that I had traveled far enough for one day. I just wasn't in the mood to keep going, and I hadn't run in to anyone yet, so what was the point? I went in to the nearest little, cut-off corner that I could find and sat down on a boulder. Weird to sit on something that was glowing? Yeah, definitely.

I took the backpack off of my shoulders, sighing at the slight relief that it brought. I went through all of my outer pockets first, emptying them completely. I found only my knife. I placed it lightly on the ground nearby, still where I could grab it at a second's notice. Finally, I opened the main pocket with a bit of apprehension. Whatever was in there would be the only supplies I had other than the clothes on my back, the knife, and the bag itself. But it had been heavy enough that I knew that there had to be something worthwhile inside.

I opened it up all the way and started to pull out the supplies. There was a loaf of bread, a flashlight, (thank you, irony), a basic first aid kit, and a water bottle that was... dead empty. Wonderful. There had to be water in here somewhere, though. It would be an uneventful Games if any tribute that came in to this section died of thirst within just a few days. And we just couldn't have that, now, could we?

A Light Summer Rain of Tears (Day One): Kildaire Kalitlin, District 7 Female Tribute

"Why'd you have to drag us in to this stupid rainforest, Kyler?!"

He didn't answer, just kept walking farther and farther in to the arena section that seemed to never end.

"It's broiling and it's raining! Raining saltwater, nonetheless!"

We had long since discovered, in our thirst, that the rain wasn't good to drink. It was so, so taunting: we were surrounded by pouring rain--and we couldn't drink a single drop of it.

"Shut up for a minute, will you?" Kyler suggested. "You're going to get the attention of every single tribute in this arena." His voice wasn't exactly angry, but it still seemed uncharacteristic of him.

"Could we at least stop for a few minutes?" Charity pleaded. "It's not like we're going to find a camp anytime soon." She seemed to be forgetting the little detail that Kyler had saved her life about an hour ago, and that she was the one who had gotten herself in to that situation in the first place--going against what he had told us to do. Then again, I had done the same thing...

"Sure." We all stopped walking. "Let's check out some of the supplies." We all dropped whatever supplies we had with us in to a pile underneath a tree with leaves so thick it seemed to give some shelter from the rain, and then crowded under it ourselves. "Sword and sheath. Matches--"

"Oh, right," Charity cut in. "Because those'll just do so much for us in the rain."

"And three blankets."

"Too hot to use them, anyways."

I pointed to the sun and tried to make a gesture that would show it setting, then shivered as clearly as I could. Kyler got what I was trying to say. "It's cold at night," he said, and I nodded. Charity just scowled.

"Well, we've been keeping whatever supplies we've got in there," Charity argued. "Even if it's just the matches right now. What'll we keep them in while we're using them?"

"Like you said, it's just matches for now; so we'll figure the rest out when we get there," he pointed out gently. Charity didn't answer. "The blankets seem to be waterproof as well, in case you haven't noticed."

"And what's with that? Since when are there waterproof blankets? I've never heard of 'em."

"They're like, coated in plastic or something. I don't know," Kyler shrugs. "Let's just get everything packed up again and keep moving."

"Why can't we just stay here?" Charity asked. "It's dry enough. There's enough room going around the tree for us all to probably sleep. You'd have to be careful with the fire, and we might have to go out again to look for water, but... that would be fine."

"Alright," Kyler sighed. "We'll stay here, then."

I nodded. It seemed like a reasonable idea, to me. But that fire could be dangerous, and we would most definitely need food as well. We were in a rainforest, so there just had to be something edible out there. I held out my palm, making sure that I stuck it out of the cover of the tree, and caught some water in it. Then I tried to act out something like "exploring" or "searching".

"Water... finding... do you want to go find water?" Kyler again.

I nodded.

"Alright, then. Just try to come back soon, okay?"

I nodded again and set out in to the rain. I didn't really mind--the water, even though it was warm, helped to cool me off some. But if only there was some that we could drink...

I closed my eyes and just thought for a minute. And I listened for any signs of water. It was a bit hard to do in the middle of a rain shower. It didn't take me too long to hear it, though--not the steady plop, plop, plop of raindrops drumming against the earth--but a much slower, more steady and consistent flow of water.

It was coming from what seemed to be just a few yards off. We had been so close to it and had never even seen it! I moved forwards slowly, a little too wary of the fact that another tribute could've easily found this same water source--if that was, in fact, what was here. I had no weapons; the only one our alliance had was the sword, which I had left with Kyler and Charity.

I stooped over and picked up a small handful of pebbles from the ground. They were scattered in with the grass. I threw them at the collection of boulders in front of me to see if anyone would emerge at the sound. Nothing moved. I kept going forwards.

Flowing over the rocks was a thin, yet strong stream of water. I looked for the source and found nothing, just the small little puddle collecting at the bottom. It wasn't even pouring in to a pond or anything. I started to climb up the rocks as carefully as I could, not wanting to slip on the water. I could peek over the edge of the pile and the sort of very steep hill once I was just on top of one of the smaller boulders--that's how low it was. But I still couldn't see any potential water source, where this would be coming from. Was it just the rain?

I cupped my hand and put it in the water flow, and then drank some of it, hesitantly. I didn't think that it would be poisonous, since the rain wasn't. It was perfectly fresh water. It seemed odd, how I couldn't find a source. It was just like there was just some sort of tap that the Gamemakers put in. Whatever--now wasn't the time to be picky. I kept scooping water and drinking it hurriedly. After a long day without water, I felt like I'd been wandering in a desert for years.

Finally, I pulled it together enough to hop down and run back to where I'd left the other two. I pointed back to where I'd found the water, and, feeling uncharacteristically excited, practically dragged them back to the source with me.

"How do you figure we should contain it?" Kyler asked.

"Easy," Charity said. "Have you seen the size of some of these leaves? We can just roll them up a bit and fill them like water bottles. We'll need something to tie them with, though... the grass is long in some spots, but it might not be strong enough..."

"It's worth a shot," Kyler said, already gathering up some of the grass and leaves. They seemed difficult to get off of the tree, but not for him. Sure enough, though, the grass snapped like twigs the second you tried to tie it.

"Well, that's that. Let's just fill these leaves up anyway, see how much water they can hold..."

Apparently, they couldn't hold much. We found out later that when they were rolled like we had planned for them to be, you could only fill up the available space about halfway--and even that was pushing it. Charity insisted that we keep them at that level, though. "What about a jacket string or something?" she asked. "Those tie well, and it's easy to take them out of the hood. You don't really need them, either."

I nodded. I'd taken out the strings before, mostly just because I was bored, or I hadn't had anything else to keep my hair out of my face.

"Fine," Kyler said.

Charity took of her jacket, which had just been tied around her waist, and removed the hood-strings, and then attempted to tie them around the leaf. They tied, but I thought that the leaf seemed like it might have cracked. But it was so almost... rubbery, that it didn't. "Excellent. We'll have to be careful opening it up, and then you could probably just scoop the water out with your hands from there. And we'll have to keep refilling this one leaf, since we only have the one string. Why didn't you two get jackets?"

Kyler and I just sort of shrugged, and Charity seemed annoyed, but she was still smiling because of our discovery.

Kyler coughed. "Wouldn't it just be easier to move our camp here? It wouldn't be raining all the time, and we could probably use the blankets as some sort of shelter--"

"Because it'll be easier if we stay where we already are," Charity interrupted. "There's probably food nearby, too. Any other questions?"

I shook my head, and I'm sure that Kyler did, too.

"Good."

And with that, we all headed back to camp.

Mazes on the Edge (Day One): Caladium Velius, District 9 Female Tribute

I was in a maze. I was hiding in a corner. It was a small space. I was trying to make myself small so that I could hide. I was hiding because I needed to wait. I was waiting for my allies. Where were my allies?

"Cala! Cala! Where are you! It's me, Lina!"

I couldn't see anyone else in the maze. There wasn't anyone else. So who was it that was talking? She said that she was Lina. Was Lina one of my allies?

"Cala!" Whoever she was, she ran over to me. She wasn't trying to kill me. But what was it that was so urgent that she had to run? Why were we in a maze? "Here, Cala, come with me. Ondrew's not going to be coming with us anymore, okay? It's just us now."

I followed her and we ran out of the "maze". Running was fast. The train to the Capitol had been a fast ride. Were we in the Capitol? Where was the train?

Lina kept running until we got to a very woodsy area. There were woods at home. They were used for hunting. You had to hunt down the other tributes. Who were all of the other tribues? Was I a tribute? What was I a tribute to?

Then we started walking, like how I'd walk to school. But I didn't see my school. Maybe we were just really lost. Yes, that had to be it. I decided to ask Kane where we were.

You're in the arena, Cala. Welcome to the Games.

I followed Lina. There were a lot of rules to follow. And instructions. Like when Lina told me what to do. Keep walking, stay quiet, just follow me. I wished that Kane would "stay quiet". He was being annoying with all of the dramatic taking. It was annoying to be in the Capitol.

Finally, Lina stopped. "Cala, we're going to make camp here, okay?" she asked. "There's a nice little cave up ahead."

Cave? Didn't things "cave" in? Wasn't that bad? I still just followed her. Kane told me to.

Lina grabbed my hand and dragged me along with her to the edge of this place that was dark. I guessed that that was the cave. She told me to climb the nearest tree (there were a lot of them) and stay up high in them, and be quiet until she told me what to do. That was what I was supposed to do, right? Climbing trees was good. I climbed the nearest tree. It was tall. There were tall trees back home, too.

I watched her. She took off her backpack and started to empty it. The cave should've been empty. If there was anything in it, that was bad. If there was anything in the bag, that was good. Or was it the other way around...?

Lina took out a roll of tape, a package of food, and a spearhead. I wondered what they were for. "Cala!" she called up to me. "Cala! Come back down again! We're... we're going to go on an adventure!"

Adventures were good. Unless they were bad. This wasn't going to be bad. Lina was here. Lina was supposed to be trying to kill me. Why wasn't she killing me? Why wasn't I killing her? I was very confused. People got confused a lot because life was confusing. The

Games were confusing.

I followed her. I was supposed to follow the rules here. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know where "here" was, either. What where the rules here?

Kill or be killed. That is the only rule. Stay alive.

I kept following Lina. She seemed to be searching for something. I didn't know what. She didn't tell me. Didn't say anything, really. I wasn't supposed to say anything. I was supposed to be quiet. That was what I knew. So I did know something. Or did I?

We kept moving until Lina turned around abruptly and started walking back where we came from. That seemed sort of stupid. We were just there, stupid, I thought. There's nothing back there.

But she kept walking, and so did I. Wasn't there a weird saying about that? Just keep moving, or something like that. Go onwards. I repeated it to myself as we walked, even though Lina told me to be quiet. I was. I was saying it quietly, telling Kane about it. "Just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep walking..."

Lina still seemed frustrated as we walked. I thought I recognized where we were now. It looked familiar. Was this where we had just been?

Yes.

Lina led me in to the cave. "Cala, it's going to get really dark in here at night. So we're going to have to be careful, okay? We have to be ready to sleep at sunset and ready to get up at dawn. We have to be prepared. Do you understand me?"

Sure, I thought. She acted like she hadn't heard me. Why hadn't she heard me? I gave up.

I just did what Lina told me after that--but I knew that she was still frustrated because we couldn't find something. Water, maybe? Couldn't you just get some water from the sink? Mother always did that. Maybe mother was just smarter than Lina was. And father, too.

Maybe they were smarter than us all. Wasn't the Capitol supposed to be the smartest of us all?

Except for me, Kane taunted.

"Shut up, Kane."

The only response I got was Lina's sigh.

Mountains of False Hope (Day One): Callia Marshan, District 3 Female Tribute

We had gotten away from the Cornucopia. I was alive. Callia Marshan was not going to be a bloodbath tribute. At home tonight, when they showed the videos of each tributes' death, they were not going to show mine. No, they'd show me, alive and uninjured, still on the move with my allies and some supplies. As safe as you could be in the Games.

Namitha had taken the lead, showing us the best way up a series of mountains that had been in front of us when we had first arrived in this section of the arena. It was either we take to the mountains, or hidden in the woods. Those choices or we had to leave the section.

If we left, we would've lost precious daylight hours. The woods would've offered thicker concealment, yes, but an awful view of anyone going in for an attack. So we hit a rather rough sort of trail heading up the not-so-steep mountainside.

We figured that we needed to get as much distance between us and all of the other tributes as we could before night came. Night was when the Careers, and any other particularly deadly tributes, would be the most likely to go hunting. And we needed to be out of their range when that happened. There would be time for rest, eating, and going through the supplies later.

"Hey, are those horses up ahead?" Namitha called back to us, as if we would have a better view. Newcomb and I were pretty much side by side just a couple of feet behind her; Link was about the same distance behind us.

I considered that it might be a trap. It would be the perfect one for Namitha, after all. She'd naturally go to check out the horses. If the Gamemakers wanted her dead, horse muttations would be the perfect way to off her. But they barely even turned our way when we approached. We reached a bit of a ledge, where there were five horses just munching on nearby grass.

"Brilliant," Namitha gasped, approaching one of them with clearly practiced ease. She held out her hand, which the horse sniffed before turning away again. Namitha stretched her hand up a bit to stroke the horses mane. "They seem to just be... normal," she observed. "We could... we could use them. I mean, we'd travel faster on horseback, right?"

I nodded a bit, even though I knew that all of our horse-riding skills were a bit... under-average, especially compared to Namitha's. "Sure," I shrugged. "If you think so."

"I don't have a problem with it," Newcomb said.

"Fine by me," Link agreed. "But you do realize that the rest of us are all terrible at riding horses, right?"

"Oh, you're not as bad as you think," Namitha reassured us. "Pick one and get on. Unless you think any of you are lugging around saddles or something, we'll probably just have to ride them like this. But that's okay..."

With a bit of help from Namitha, we all climbed on to our horses. From that point on, the trail seemed to be a bit more distinct and recognizable, because there was a turn that let us start to spiral up the mountainside slowly, slowly. It really was an amazing sight to see. The horse riding was a bit of a pain after a while, though, and I doubted that we'd be able to keep them around for long. Why would they stay with us? We had no food to offer them, (most likely, at least)... nothing. But maybe they were just lazy--they were all still together when we found them, which is probably where they were because of the Gamemakers. So maybe they'd stick

around.

I tried to decide where it was that Namitha was leading us. But I came up with nothing. She seemed to just keep moving forwards, going up, up, up. It wasn't like I knew a lot about mountains--District Three was flat as could be. I didn't really know about the terrain of District Seven or District Ten, which started to irritate me slightly. The districts were just so divided.

"Hey, this looks like it could be a good place to stop!" Namitha called back after a while. "Here, come around!"

We all crowded our horses in to the clear area and hopped off. It was a relief to be on the ground again, though I felt tired a little off balance. "Look at this!"

At first, I saw nothing. There was nothing there in front of us--just the ledge we were standing on that led off in to a bit thicker section of the woods. Namitha gestured for us to follow her, something that I wasn't un-used to, and I gasped when I saw what she was trying to show us.

After the small thick wall of woods, there was a rather small clearing. But within that, there was a lot of board-like pieces of wood that were very, very roughly arranged to make almost a small sort of hut. A real shelter. Already here. Could anything be more perfect?

But was it a trap to lure us in to a place that was going to collapse in on us or be filled with muttations? My own paranoia was starting to get to me as I took afew steps forwards. "Hmm..." Was it a shelter set up by another tribute? It seemed unlikely--there was only that one way up here, and we hadn't run in to anyone. We had been some of the first people to get away from the bloodbath, so there was no one who could've possibly beaten us here. We'd been moving quickly, as well. And it was too loosely constructed to really be that of a tribute's. Anyone strong enough to get away from the bloodbath would've built something better than that.

We approached it with caution.

And Miles to Go Before I Sleep (Day One): Maine Hofman, District 11 Male Tribute

I was somewhere in the woods. That was about all I knew. To my right there was a rather large set of mountains, and to my left, a very plain meadow like the ones back home in District Eleven. Behind me, behind the woods, really, was the hedge-maze-thing. And in front of me was... more woods. Excellent.

I decided to keep walking, though my footsteps were a bit clumsy, probably because of some of my injuries from the Cornucopia. There was nothing major that I could see--mostly just a few small gashes from knives that had barely missed me, which I could deal with later. But I was still a bit proud of how the bloodbath had gone; I was alive, without any major injuries, and

I had a pretty good stash of supplies, something that I didn't expect. The movement, however I was unhappy with. My pace was slower than usual.

And then there was the haunting images from the bloodbath. Everyone who had died. I felt like I actually knew them, and I hadn't really anticipated that feeling. I just thought that they were going to end up being nothing other than fellow tributes to me, but I had to admit that there were some that I wasn't going to look forward to killing. Even November, little November, as annoying as she could be at times, hadn't deserved the death that she got. No one did, really.

I tried to block out some of the thoughts, just because they were going to make me lose my focus. I couldn't afford that. No, I had to keep moving.

But the woods started to just seem repetitive. And looking around, I couldn't really see the Careers making camp anywhere nearby. The woods were too thick for them to really be able to spread out, the meadow offered no shelter, and I didn't see them wanting to have to climb down those mountains when they went to start to track down us tributes. Then there were the other remaining kids, or, rather, tributes, the ones who weren't in the Career pack, but, like me, had made it past the bloodbath. Who had that been? I hadn't been paying attention to anyone else, really.

Either way, I decided to just stop there, figuring that if I was close enough to another tribute that could actually kill me, they would've done it by now. I let my main backpack fall off my shoulders on to the ground, I set down the spear in my right hand, and I unwound the lighter bundle that I had tied around my other wrist Dumping it all in front of me, I realized just how many supplies I had. Maybe I had a bigger, more realistic chance after all.

The first thing I needed to do was sort through it all. Subconsciously, I'd already decided that I was going to sleep up a tree. There was no point trying to drag up anything that I didn't need. I emptied out the backpack and the bundle on to the ground and pulled the backpack to the side, deciding that that would be where I would put everything I decided to carry with me. Slowly, I sifted through the pile. Next to the backpack, I put the spear, and inside, the spare set of clothes from the bundle. Huh. So that's what it was. I knew that they would be extra, but I figured that I could use them for bandages or whatever.

The things that were originally inside the rather large bag included several small packs of what looked like dried fruit/trail mix, a canteen of water, a small tarp, a sleeping bag, and a couple feet long piece of rope. Not too bad. I kept the rope out and put the food, canteen, and sleeping bag back in to the backpack. I left out the tarp, as well. Fine. So I was going to use everything. Maybe that was a better idea after all, anyways.

I climbed up the tree, the tarp and rope in hand. I picked out the branch that I was going to sleep on, and then I went to the branch right above it. There, I used the rope to fasten the ends of the tarp to the branch so it made a bit of a ceiling for me. Hopefully, it would block out whatever form of rain got through the trees, at least over the area where my head would be. The rest of me would probably be in the sleeping bag, anyways. From there, I ended up taking the sleeping bag out of the backpack and draping it over the branch that I had decided on, using the

strap on the sleeping bag to sort of belt it in. Next came the backpack, which I just hung at the base of the branch. The spear I tucked safely in to the sleeping bag so I'd always have it close by at night.

Finally, I was satisfied with my camp. The only problem would be that the whole setup was counting on me not having to move it, especially in a situation where I'd have to move fast. But, hey, if I had to move fast, I'd be able to get at least myself, the spear, and the backpack out of there, right? Losing only the ceiling and the sleeping bag. I couldn't see either of those things being life-saving, anyways, unless the Gamemakers really played with the temperature or decided to make it rain acid. In which case, I'd probably want to try moving of my own accord, anyways.

The Gamemakers would really just want me out of the area. Get me in to the hands of some of the other tributes for a good show.

Because for them, that's all these Games were. Entertainment.

To Hunt Bouncing Mutts in Flowers (Day One): Arsin Locke, District 4 Male Tribute

It took almost an hour to finish moving all of the supplies. We (Chenille, Fabian, Samantha, Marco, Ionia, and I) were the last ones at the Cornucopia, waiting until everyone was either dead or had left. We gathered up all of the remaining supplies and started to drag them out of the maze as fast as we could. No point in wasting daylight, even though some of us were slacking off.

Getting them in to the closest part of the arena that we could find, we ended up in an actually rather small meadow. Surrounding us was the maze in the direction we had just come

from, thick woods to the left and in front of us, and on the left, a "crystally" waterfall that flowed in to a large lake.

"We can't camp here!" someone called out. I just really didn't care who it was, honestly. "There's no concealment or anything!"

"We'll be able to move quickly and see who's coming," I pointed out angrily. "And besides, who in this whole arena is going to go along their pathetic little dandy way and decide to ambush the Careers? No one who's in their right mind. And if they're not in their right mind... then we'll just put them in their place, won't we?"

"Who put you in charge?" Chenille challenged. I wasn't sure if she was the one who had spoken earlier or not. It was probably Samantha. "I say that we hit the woods."

"Too thick," I answered.

"What about closer to the waterfall?" Ionia tried. "There might be some caves or something. Better for shelter."

"Who needs 'shelter' when we've got the tent?" I shot back at her, gesturing to the supply pile. "Unless anyone else is going to cut in with their stupid objections, lets start unpacking."

No one voiced a challenge. Good. After a little more dispute, Chenille and Fabian offered to set up the tent, Ionia started to organize the supplies that we weren't going to keep with us just outside of it, and Samantha, Marco, and I all started putting backpacks together for all of us.

The Gamemakers seemed to be big on backpacks lately. Last year, I think that was just about all there was in the Cornucopia. And we, the Career pack of just six, ended up with a grand total of eight decently sized ones. We picked out one for each person, filling it with their weapon(s) of choice, some water, something to help them see in the dark (matches, flashlight, whatever), basic first-aid stuff, just in case, a small amount of food, and then some things that they might want while traveling, like the pieces of rope and the condensed flotation devices that we found in our massive set of supplies.

We had the tribute outfits that we had all decided on as well, which would be helpful at some point. At least, I hoped they would be. The bags ended up being a bit bulky, but I handed 'em out anyways, once the tent was set up and the supplies were sorted.

"When do we hunt?" Marco asked simply.

"Tonight," I decided, even though the question hadn't really been directed at anyone in particular. "Best time to catch people off guard... or asleep."

"Speaking of being caught off guard," Fabian interrupted, "you all failed to notice those mutts approaching our camp."

"Lovely," I muttered, at about the same time as some of the others said something similar. I draw out my sword as I start to spin around and look wildly for the said muttations. "Care to mention where they are?" I asked, annoyed.

"Right at your feet," Fabian answered.

I jumped back a little, and vaguely heard some of the others laugh. Bouncing up and down right in front of me, though completely silent, was the ugliest creature I'd ever seen in my life. The creature was round, shaped a bit like a jellybean, and looked a bit heavy. It didn't really have a head, only cat-like ears and very small feet. Beady black eyes, a very tiny nose the color of its mousy-brown fur, and a tight... smile? It looked harmless. But as soon as I noticed it, it started to make this huge racket, like an eager child who wanted my attention.

"Eeek! Eeek!" It made these awful, high-pitched squeaking sounds, and all of a sudden, its bouncing was as loud as could be.

"Aww, I think it likes you," Chenille teased as sarcastically as possible.

"Yeah, trying to kill me by being annoying is more like it," I snapped. I tried to literally slice the thing in half with my sword, but it just jumped about ten feet up in the air and then landed not too far away from me, coming back at me. "Oh, great. And I suppose that they follow you, too?"

Just to actually test it, I started to walk in wide circles. Yup. The thing followed me.

"Well, I think it's sort of... cute," Samantha commented. It was hard to keep in mind how deadly she could be when she was talking about.... this thing.

"Oh, yes, just adorable. It's hideous," I replied. "Going to get us all killed. We'll see how funny you think it is then."

"It is kind of funny-lookin'," Fabian said. "That's why I noticed it. Seriously, how did you guys not see that thing bouncing right in front of him?"

Everyone just sort of shrugged. "Whatever," I said, starting to get bored with the conversation. Maybe it would just ditch us later. "We're still hunting tonight, and if this... thing, wants to come along, then, by all means, let it. It'll get itself killed before us, and I think that that'd be fun to watch."

"The sun's going to set soon," Ionia pointed out. "We should get going, unless you plan on completely going in the middle of the night."

"Oh, yes, that was exactly what I was planning on. Not. Let's go."

The Venom of Knowledge (Night One): Kizzy Ericssen, District 6 Female Tribute

I had already finished going through all of my supplies when I realized that I was going to have to move. Night must've been coming, because no matter how many times I tried clapping, running around in circles (which just made me feel really stupid), or even talking as loud as I dared, the lights continued to dim, so I eventually figured that that must mean they're mimicking the sunlight from outside once they're activated each day or something. So I didn't have long before I'd just have the light from the flashlight, which wouldn't be a good thing because a. in trying to test it, it really wasn't all that bright, b. I didn't want to use up any more of its battery than I had to, and c. if there were any other tributes that had managed to slip under my notice, it would immediately alert them of my location.

Why did I have to move? I didn't want to settle in somewhere that I couldn't find water in. Sure, I might've been okay for a little while, but I didn't want it to get desperate. So I packed up my supplies again and started to head out. I continued going along how I had been before--just going straight, and every time I absolutely had to turn, I took a right.

As I walked, trying to pay attention to where I might find water, a few thoughts came to me. First about how I was going to find out who had died that day, if I was technically underground. The pictures of the dead tributes were always projected in to the sky. I wasn't concerned about not hearing something, though, for whatever reason. I had the feeling that I'd have heard it. Then there was just how much I wanted to get out of this area. I didn't like it much. There seemed to be lots of good places to hide, but that meant that there were also lots of places for other tributes or threats to be hidden as well.

Find this object and then leave. That was all I had to do.

But that would be a project for tomorrow--the odds of me finding it before night settled in were low.

Slowly, slowly, the lights began to really dim down so that I could barely see. Still, I didn't pull out the flashlight just yet. I was going to wait it out. I turned it on for just a few seconds to gather up some loose pebbles in one hand that I tossed ahead of me as I walked, hoping that they would alert me of any sudden drops or water that I might not have seen. There was a risk factor in that.

Finally, I heard it.

Water.

It seemed to be flowing... down? From somewhere...

I had to give in and use the flashlight, because by now, it would be any second when the anthem would play and it was getting to be almost pitch black. I turned it on reluctantly and turned in around the area in front of me a few times--first time, nothing. Second time... still nothing. Third time... wow, I'm stupid.

There was a slight "dip" in to the wall on my right that when I walked in to it, it actually went a bit deeper in to the left. And flowing against the rock wall on the other solid side of this narrow area was a very, very thin stream. Running my flashlight in the general upstream direction, I saw that it was flowing in from a very small hole in the "ceiling", proceeding in to this little stream like thing, going what I believed was downhill, and then going out another small hole in the rock at the other end.

It was good enough for me.

I didn't really think that the water wouldn't be safe--the Gamemakers seemed to be trying to avoid that since a year they went overboard and nearly all of the tributes were killed by their

water supply. Not much excitement in that, I supposed. But how could I try to clean it? Boiling it? What did I have to start a fire with here?

I stubbornly dug around for my water bottle and pulled it out, sticking the open top just a few feet under the hole in the ceiling. After as long as I could stand, I took a small, cautious sip. I didn't stop breathing or fall suddenly to the ground or just die already, so I figured that it was all right. I filled up the bottle and replaced everything back in my backpack, except for my knife and the flashlight, which I kept in either hand.

But I stopped myself just as I was about to leave. Why couldn't I have camped there?

Then I heard the anthem start to blast from somewhere overhead, and I instinctively ran out in to the main area of all of the caves. Sure enough, the Capitol seal was being projected right on to the ceiling. Did the Gamemakers know where I was? Was that why they were projecting it here? There was no way that this was the only place it was.

The seal turned to the first tributes' picture, and I subconsciously felt myself turn off the flashlight.

Vitality. The girl from District Five. How had she died? It must've been a long battle with the Careers, to be something that could bring down the daughter of a victor. Speaking of which, they must have all still been alive, along with the District Three pair. Huh. Interesting. District Three rarely had non-bloodbath tributes.

The boy from District Five was already gone as well. Probably already in a coffin with whatever his district token was and heading back home to his family.

I just felt numb, detached. I hadn't known these people, not really.

Tod is next. Tod might've been the only tribute I really talked to during my whole time in the Capitol. He was from home, too. And now he was dead--dead because I, Kizzy Ericssen, killed him. I almost didn't know how to feel then.

Then the boy from Nine. I never knew his name. He never stood out to me.

The boy from Ten. Gavin, was it? Was he the one whose mentor had died, or was it his district partner's? There were an oddly high amount of male deaths from the bloodbath, I noted.

The little girl from District Eleven--November, I think her name was. I remembered it from the interviews. There was no way she would've ever made it that far.

And then the boy from the last district, District Twelve. Usually both of their tributes were bloodbaths.

Seven dead.

Sixteen left to kill, and then I was home. Or I was one of the dead, and some other tribute was home.

I went back in to the area by the stream, turning on my flashlight again, to find that I wasn't alone. What seemed to be a rattlesnake hissed at me from an area just a few feet away. Unable to even think of what I was doing, I stumbled backwards out of the area and started to sprint away. It seemed satisfied, since it didn't follow me. How had it gotten there? Had it been watching me all along?

I finally found another sort of corner similar to the one that I'd been in initially to settle down for the night in. The temperature actually wasn't too bad in the caves--a bit cold, but not unsettlingly so.

Feeling a bit paranoid about rattlesnakes now, I checked the whole area that I was in for them very slowly before I just sat down and leaned against the rock wall, keeping my backpack on for both convenience and mild comfort.

Drinking some more of the water was tempting, but I decided not to, not right now. I was going to save my bread and my water for later. I'd still have it when I needed it.

So I let the welcoming darkness of sleep take over me.

Silence Lives On (Night One): Charity Reed, District 8 Female Tribute

Our "camp" was waiting for us when we got back, and the rain had slowed down a bit. "Finally," I muttered once the rain stopped completely. Kildaire and Kyler both seemed relieved as well, but didn't comment.

I set the leaf down by the base of the tree, just glancing around to check on the supplies again. There were still the matches and blankets. "Where's the sword?" I asked, spinning to face the other two who were still behind me.

"I've got it," Kyler answered.

"Fine. But if either of you plan on eating today, we should find some food soon. It's going to get dark out," I said.

Kyler just sort of coughed. "Why don't you try to see what's edible around here and Kildaire and I will set up the camp," he suggested.

"Fine," I repeated. "Just don't do anything stupid without me." With that said, I headed out to see what this rainforest had to offer.

My first thought was to look for edible plants, naturally. You didn't get a lot of experience with them in District Eight, but years of signing up for botany classes (among other extras), paid off. I tried to think of what my teacher had said about plants in this sort of environment--not like this was completely natural, if it rained saltwater, though. I didn't recall any class memories, but I thought of another one.

It was of a rather cold day in District Eight before our semester exams, just a few weeks prior to when we had two weeks off during the winter. It was snowing outside--mom had probably made everyone some hot chocolate or tea or whatever it was that they wanted. Garret and I would've been upstairs in my room, studying together (as we usually did) for the exams. One of the ones that we both would've had to take was the one for our botany class. I could pracically hear his voice from when we had quizzed each other on different types of edible (and non-edible) plants.

"What about in a tropical rainforest?" he would've joked. "What could you eat there?"

And I, dramatically pretending that I was on one of those game shows that aired straight from the Capitol, would've answered, "Well, there's a lot of fruits that are highly enjoyed by the upper class of Panem--mangos and bananas and all of their sub-species--"

I smiled to myself, opening my eyes again to push away the memory. It had served its purpose, so I continued walking. I could've sworn now that I'd seen a few banana trees on the way to where our camp was, so I started out in that general direction. Sure enough, there were a few small clumps of the rather short trees. I went around and picked off the fruit that seemed ready to eat and carried as much as I could back to the camp with me.

Fortunately, neither Kildaire or Kyler had died yet or done anything else that was stupid and trouble-causing. They both seemed glad to see the food, though, and I glanced around to see that the camp was already nice and set up. Darkness was just starting to completely settle in over us. A small fire burned a safe distance away from the trunk of the tree, and the three blankets were all spread out around it. Kyler appeared to still have the sword, sheath, and matches all safely stored somewhere, and the water was stowed back over closer to the tree.

"Found some food," I said as I dropped it down on to the only empty blanket, which I assumed was going to be mine. Kyler and Kildaire each sat on their own. "No thanks to either of you." I really just couldn't help that last comment--sure, Kildaire had found the water and

they had both put together the shelter, but where would we be without food? "Should we save it for tomorrow, you think?"

"Probably," Kyler said absently, watching the fire. Kildaire just nodded.

I put the bananas back by the water. "We're going to need some more supplies," I observed, sitting down again. "Food, a better way to store water, and more water, actually. More than one weapon would be nice, too, so we could all defend oureselves..." I trailed off, seeing that neither of them really cared about what I was saying. Fine. Let them be unprepared.

The anthem started to blast overhead just then, and I turned up to look at the sky. First, just the Capitol seal.

Then a picture of the girl from District Five--Vitality. Can't say I wasn't surprised at that death. Must've taken the whole Career pack to take down a tribute like that! The boy from Five, too--that one I already knew.

Then the boy from Six, another shocking one. I didn't know him too well, but I didn't think that he'd end up as a bloodbath.

The boys from Nine and Ten, the girl from Eleven, and the boy from Twelve. Not a lot of surprise there. The seal came back up, and the anthem ended with one last section of music. But there was still another sound coming from somewhere behind our group, in the direction of the Cornucopia. A sound of a lot of twigs breaking and then something like a basketball bouncing against the ground. What in Panem...?

"Do you guys hear that?" I asked. "The bouncing thing?"

They both strained to hear and then nodded slowly. Within about what seemed like two seconds after that, the fire was put out, Kyler was holding out his sword, and all three of us were pressed in to the shadows against the backs of the nearest tree trunks.

"I knew that that thing was going to be the end of us!"

"Shh! You're not a very quiet attacker, are you?"

"They have to know that we're coming by now."

"Yeah, what're they gonna do about it?"

"Might be a tougher alliance to face, though."

The faces of the six Career tributes came in to view, and I felt my heart stop, then start beating rapidly. How had they found us? Was it the fire? I should've known that was going to be a bad idea...

Kyler gripped his sword even tighter.

"This bouncing thing gave 'em too much warning! They're gone, now!"

I heard the sound of light footsteps approaching the still-smoldering fire pit. "We just missed them," someone said.

"But how far would they go without taking any supplies?"

I couldn't put a name to any of the voices.

"They have to still be nearby." I jumped about a foot in the air just then, when someone, and not one of the Careers, was sprinting in to view, clutching a weapon, heading straight for me. I couldn't even move in the split seconds that it took me to realize that they weren't headed for me--they were headed for the Careers! And it was Kyler! That weapon was a sword!

But that only made me remember how I had nothing with me to fight with.

I heard a sharp, high-pitched sound as it made contact with another sword, or maybe even two, and then I saw about three knives go whizzing in Kyler's direction. He ducked so quickly that his body almost just turned in to a blur, and I wondered where he'd picked up that sort of experience.

Then, out of nowhere, Kildaire came running out from behind her tree and in to the midst of the battle. Somewhere inside me, instinct kicked in, and I was running for the knives that had missed their targets and fallen to the ground. The Careers didn't even seem to notice, already caught up with the other two. Kyler was holding his own against about half of the Career pack. Huh. Interesting.

I launched one of the three knives that I was now balancing clumsily in one hand towards one of the Career girls who--get this--caught it, with extreme grace, and shot it right back at me. I didn't quite react so gracefully, and I just jumped to the side and threw another one right back, a little more smoothly this time.

Still dodging attacks, I tried to look at my two allies. Kyler was doing well, though none of the Careers seemed really on the verge of death. Kildaire was...

A cannon fired.

I didn't get to see who it was, occupied by dodging a new myraid of attacks that seemed to come from nowhere. Not fast enough. One of the knives managed to catch me in my left shoulder. There seemed to be an odd delay before the pain hit, and then it burned--like a paper-cut, but a lot more... intense. It didn't seem to be bleeding too heavily or be too deep, so I just tried to staunch some of the flow with my jacket and go on with the battle.

"Eeek! Eeek!" A small, ugly-lookin' muttation bounced out from behind the Careers. "Eeek!" it repeated, jumping several feet up in the air, over something lying on the ground, and then it got much larger in size and landed just in front of the other tribute pack. It lunged for one of 'em, taking all of their attention off of us for once, as it started to try to tackle each of them in turn.

"Go back to the camp!" someone ordered. "Let 'em live for a bit longer, just get away from this mutt thing!"

"Told you it was trying to kill us!"

I shot another knife in that general direction as they all headed back, but it missed by a pathetic margin.

It was then that I noticed what that "thing" on the ground was.

It was Kildaire. It was her cannon that had fired.

"Come on, Charity," Kyler said, sounding depressed. "Let's set up camp somewhere else."

And I went with him willingly.

Haunted Preparation (Night One): Carolina Rowan, District 12 Female Tribute

I tried today. I really did. But between Cala... being Cala, and my lack of abilities when it came to finding water, we ended up with only the supplies from the Cornucopia. A roll of duct-tape, a spare spearhead, a small backpack, and a package of food. And now we were sitting in the middle of a shallow cave that was going to be pitch black soon. I was trying to figure out how to camoflauge the cave, or at least do something with it.

"Cala!" I called. Looking around, I noticed that she was just a few feet away from me, staring at the rock wall of the cave. "Just stay here for a few minutes and stay quiet," I said, sounding like I was talking to a small child, "I'll be right back, okay?"

With that, I grabbed the spearhead and the tape and exited the cave.

I looked around to see what there was to camoflauge the cave with. There were some trees, grass, dirt, boulders, vines...

In a few seconds, I walked over to the nearest tree and attempted to use the spearhead like a saw to cut off some of the much lower, thinner branches. It took a bit of effort, but it seemed to work. The edges of this spearhead were just as sharp as the tip, almost like a knife. It got a bit easier as I went along and soon I had a satisfactory pile of branches that I carried back to the entrance of the cave with me.

From there, I ripped off a small piece of the tape--and then I stopped, looking down at the tape piece in my hand. It was glowing. The second I had ripped it away from the roll, it had started to glow. Great.

The thought was sarcastic. You'd think that I would've been happier about the fact that I'd found a way for us to have light, but I wasn't. It was just going to be a bother, if the cave's defenses glowed. Might have well put up a "come and find me" flag while I was at it.

I kept that piece with me, just sticking it in my pocket, and tried a different strategy. I laid out all of the sticks on the ground very closely and going horizontally, so that it looked like a bit of an uneven rectangle when I was done. Then I took off a few pieces of tape that were just long enough to go along the width of the rectangle and pressed the sticky side against the branches. It seemed to hold up okay, and the other side didn't show the glow... pretty much at all, really.

Ondrew would've been happy with it. But he isn't here, I had to remind myself.

Picking up the tape, spearhead, and branch arrangement, I went back to the entrance of the cave, which was really very, very small. Cala didn't even seem to notice it (how small it was, that is), but then again... she was Cala, after all.

I dragged all of the supplies back in to the cave and then I used the branch assortment to

block the entrance, just propping it up loosely against the gap that we used to get in, with the glowing side facing us. There. That could work.

I replaced all of our supplies in to the backpack and laid that off to the side. We'd probably eat at some point today, before we slept, but for now, we didn't need anything out of our supplies.

After a while of this, being lost in my thoughts, I heard the anthem start to play. I quickly moved aside the branch arrangement and looked outside of the cave. Above us, in the sky, there was the Capitol seal. It was quickly replaced by a picture of the girl from District Five. Then the boy from Six. Ondrew.

I felt a slight pang of guilt as Ondrew's picture came up, staring down at us just one last time. Would he have died if I had gotten to the Cornucopia faster?

The boy from Ten. The girl from Eleven. The boy from Twelve.

The seal came back up and then disappeared. Then I realized something, something a bit sad. Out of seven tributes, I had only been able to name one. Seven people had died today, and I could only even name one of them. And how well had I even known Ondrew, for that matter? I sighed slightly and went back inside the cave, replacing the branch arrangement.

Finally giving in to hunger, I went to open up the package of food. Inside the larger canvas bag, there was a smaller one, which contained a few... well, what appeared to be... biscuits. Then there were a few packages of fruit, and lastly, some... tree bark? I could've found that outside. But I told myself mentally to shut up and stop complaining as I tried to figure out how to split up this food. Finally, I just picked one piece of fruit for each of us and put the other food items back in the bag.

I handed one of them to Cala and then ate mine. Somehow, it seemed to make me hungrier, but I didn't dare to try and ration out anymore food for tonight. "Cala?" I called again. No answer. She was just a few feet away from me, though. "We should try to get some sleep," I tried. She just sort of nodded and went back to staring at the "ceiling". That was as close as I was going to get--I couldn't force her to sleep if she didn't want to.

So I decided to just try to catch some sleep, myself.

It didn't seem like long before I was bolting upright again. What was it that had woken me so suddenly? I already felt paranoia creeping in to me and my heart rate increasing. What was--

My own thoughts were cut off again by the same sound coming from outside the cave again. It was the sound of Cala's screaming. My eyes searched around the cave to find it empty other than myself and the supplies. I grabbed the spearhead and got out of the cave again as fast as I could. The branch-thing was displaced. "Cala! Cala!"

I just heard her scream again and tried to run towards the sound. She was in a nearby clearing, seemingly alone. "Cala! Why in Panem are you--"

I cut myself off, staring in shock at the space in front of us. There was a ghost.

Yes, it was impossible. And I thought that Cala was the schizophrenic one... but there it was, right in front of me. "B-but ghosts... they're just kids stories!" I cried out, still staring at the wavering figure in front of us. It sort of looked like the stereotypical ghosts from childrens' books. "What in Panem--"

Cala stopped screaming suddenly. "K-Kane?"

"What?!" I felt like I was the one who was going insane now.

"You could say that," the ghost chuckled.

Now I was the one who was about ready to scream. The ghost looked actually a bit like an older, male version of Cala. "We're getting out of here," I told Cala. "Let's go. Now. Come on." I grabbed her arm and attempted to practically drag her back to the cave, which was apparently necessary because she wouldn't stop staring at the clearing. And the ghost was still there, too, but making no attempt to follow us. It was so dark outside--I wouldn't have been surprised if it was past midnight--that getting through the woods took some effort. Once the ghost, or Kane, or whoever it was, was out of our sight, Cala seemed to go back to... her version of "normal".

We got back in to the cave, I put the spearhead back, and then I replaced the branch arrangement, trying to block out anything that might come from the outside. I didn't want to know what it was. Not now.

But I still don't think that either of us slept at all after that.

Not So Safe After All (Night One): Ellink Lamont, District 7 Male Tribute

"Hello...?" Callia called out in front of us. "Anyone home?"

"I'm taking that as a 'no'," I said. The little hut-like thing still stood in front of us. Everyone seemed to be a bit wary of entering it, but it was going to be the best shelter we could find--for as long as it lasted, anyways. "Let's check it out." I wanted us to before any of us lost our courage.

It looked a bit like someone had roughly constructed a ten-by-ten-by-ten cube out of pieces of wood, and then taken out the floor and one of the walls. And there were some gaps in the pieces of wood that were just large enough to be classified as looking like windows. When we all walked in to it, nothing happened.

"You guys figure we should just stay here, at least for the night, then?" Namitha asked.

"Sure," I said.

"Fine by me," Callia answered.

"Cool here."

Without much more discussion, we started to drag the supplies that we had in to the hut-like area. Together, we had some rope, a sleeping bag, a bit of... well, what appeared to be iodine, a sort of satchel-like bag, and a couple of knives.

The stash of supplies in itself really wasn't all that bad.

"Anyone going to volunteer to try to find some food or water or something?" I asked at one point as we tried to agree on how we wanted to stash the supplies. "I have no clue about finding it."

"I'll go," Callia said, a bit quietly. She put down what she was holding, grabbed one of the knives, and walked away. That was that.

"I think that for the knives, there's four, so we could all just carry one with us," Newcomb pointed out. We had all gotten a knife from the Cornucopia--there seemed to be a ton of them back there.

"Sounds reasonable," Namitha agreed. The three of us each took one and pocketed it. Callia already had hers. "What about the sleeping bag, though? Any ideas for that?"

"Maybe just spread it out in a corner or something, and then whoever's on watch gets it?" I tried.

"But they'll never be the ones sleeping..." Namitha pointed out.

"What if we rotated? I mean, first night, one of us gets it, next night, another one of us does, and just keep going like that? And then, try to make it work so that it's not the person who's on watch that gets it?" Newcomb suggested.

"Sure," I said, at the same time that Namitha did.

"Should we just stick the iodine and the rope in the bag and stick that somewhere in here, so we can call it a day?" I asked.

"Sounds good to me," Namitha replied, doing what I had suggested once Newcomb also agreed. Callia surely wouldn't have any protests once she got back.

While we waited for her return, I just kept on filming. I wanted to have a lot of footage. If I died, it would still get back home. If I lived--it would live with me. But I didn't want to think about that first option, because it wasn't like it was going to help me. There was nothing that I could do about it.

Callia finally returned, interrupting my thoughts. And in her arms, she held what appeared to be a vast collection of edible plants. "Huckleberries and Fireweed--stems, flowers, and leaves," she announced quietly, setting them down. "There's also a stream not too far from here, but I couldn't find a way to get the water back, and my hands were already full from these."

We were all pleased, to be honest, already explaining the system of storing things that we had worked out, proudly. "If you'll show me where it is, Callia, I can try to bring some of the water back," Namitha offered.

"Why don't we all go?" Callia suggested. "That way we'll all know where it is in case we have to find it again later." There was general agreement, so we left our camp as it was and went to where the stream was. It was flowing strong and steady. "You know that it has to be good water because of the plant life right in it," she explained.

"But how do we get the water back?" Newcomb asked, now sounding aggravated.

"How about we just weave something to carry it?" I pointed out. "Not like I can really weave, but..."

"I can," Callia said. "I can't believe I didn't think of that before!"

She went off to gather some grass and, working very quickly, weaved a sort of bottle to carry water in. She filled it, and then made another. Two more. Soon, we all had weaved "water bottles" that were full. Once back at the camp, we added the iodine in and waited. While we did, Callia started to sort out some of her edible plants collection to ration out "dinner" for all of us.

As we ate, there was a little discussion. "So, who do you guys think should take watch tonight?" Namitha asked.

"I think that first we should decide if whoever's on watch is going to do the whole night, or just part of it," Callia said. "Maybe we could do two people per night? So one person would do half of the night, and then wake up the other person to watch until morning?"

"I could take first watch tonight," I offered, swallowing another few of the huckleberries. "I'm really not that tired." It was true--I felt very awake, alert, on edge, even after a long day in the arena.

"And I'll take second, if no one else particularly wants to," Callia said.

"Well, that's decided," Newcomb commented.

We finished eating and the others decided to turn in for the day once the anthem was done with. There wasn't anything going on. So we stored the water and food in the bag and I watched as the others all slowly fell asleep. It was sort of peaceful, seeing just how much they trusted me.

I stared out at the woods for what seemed like hours, keeping track of just how far the moon had gone to know when to wake Callia. But just a short while before I was going to wake her, when I felt like I might be starting to doze off a bit, I ended up jumping a foot in the air at the sight in front of me.

It was a ghost. And it was of someone who looked vaguely familiar... a lot like Namitha, actually, but older. "Uh... uh... guys... you might wanna see this..." I said, starting to shake the others awake. At first they were confused and didn't see anything. But then they all seemed to catch sight of it at once, and while the District Three pair froze, Namitha screamed. Then she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth, realizing that someone outside of our alliance could've heard her.

"T-T-Tara...?" she gasped, watching the ghost. "B-but, how...?"

The ghost smiled kindly. "Hi, Namitha."

I thought that Namitha might have fainted at that moment if she was more the type to. "Uh, Tara, no offense, but you're dead. Way dead. Like, for almost a week now."

"And you don't see me in my regular form, I'm guessing?" Tara asked.

"Uh, yeah, no," Namitha said, her voice growing a bit stronger and colder. She turned to us. "Let's get out of here."

I couldn't have agreed more. Tara's ghost didn't follow us--I should've known that that place was too good to be true! We gathered up all of the supplies, and ended up in a clearing by the stream that Callia had shown us earlier. "You're turn to watch," I told her, still a bit shaken by the ghost encounter.

And I let myself drift off to sleep.

Move On and Forwards (Night One): Marco Chase, District 2 Male Tribute

Our whole group headed, pretty reluctantly, back to our camp, at Arsin's order, of course. Moving at the speed that we did, with the only conversation being little bits of argument from various people about hunting longer, it didn't take us too long to get back. It seemed like some people were still thinking about the battle with those tributes from Seven and Eight. Or, rather, it was just Eight now, though it would've been no one if it wasn't for that stupid mutt-thing making us leave.

It had stopped following us, but I hadn't seen it go after the other alliance, either, which was suspicious enough in itself.

"Seriously, are we Careers or not? We only took down one alliance tonight, and most of 'em are still alive!" I couldn't really place the voice, since I wasn't really facing anyone, but it was definitely one of the girls, and the only one who would really say that was Chenille.

"Fine! Anyone who wants to keep hunting, go, go on and get yourselves killed!" Arsin snapped. The only ones who walked off were the District One pair--the rest of us stayed.

"Anyone else hungry?" Ionia asked, her voice a bit quiet.

I shrugged, Samantha seemed to agree, and Arsin just sort of nodded before saying, "Why don't you throw something together, since you're the one who brought it up." It wasn't said in the nicest of ways, and for just a second, Ionia looked like she might explode on him before she seemed to chill out and see some sense, nodding and walking over to our main supply stash.

To most of our surprise, the first thing she did, after a bit of setup, was dig out a pack of matches and light a fire. "Are you insane?" Arsin spat out at her. "You'll have every tribute for miles out looking for us with that thing. Put it out."

"No, I won't," Ionia explained, sounding oddly calm. "No one is going to come and ambush us, the Careers--there's not a tribute in this whole arena strong enough to even want to try that."

"But there are some that are idiotic enough!" Arsin shot back.

"Well, then, that'll be their problem when we kill them, won't it?" Ionia pointed out. Arsin gave up, mumbling something to himself while Ionia proceeded with whatever she was doing. Ionia did have a point, though I wasn't going to be the one to tell that to Arsin--any tributes stupid enough to try and attack us now would surely pay for it.

About twenty minutes later, Ionia was saying, "Food's ready."

"Took long enough," Arsin commented as we all sat down on the ground around the fire. Ionia had found some disposable plates and forks in the pile--which she was handing out, already piled with food. The supply pile apparently had a whole crate that was like a kitchen set or something, according to what she was saying.

"Should I ask what this is?" I asked, probably beating Arsin to it as I examined the food in front of me. It did look slightly familiar, like something that they would've served to Fade and I in the community home.

"The pack said that it was pasta--the sauce was in this weird powder form," Ionia answered. No one questioned it further, and I was hungry enough that I ate it, if a bit hesitantly. It actually wasn't too bad.

The District One pair chose then to show up again, and there were, as predicted, a lot of comments about how there hadn't been any cannons while they were gone. They both sat down and ate the extra food that Ionia had made for when they returned.

"So, who's taking first watch tonight?" Fabian asked.

"I will," Samantha said, almost just a bit too quickly. I made a mental note to not sleep too heavily tonight. Then she added, "I mean, if no one else is," which didn't help with my suspicions.

"Fine," Arsin said, and no one else questioned it, suspicious at it seemed. So when we all went inside the tent to sleep, Samantha stayed outside by where the fire had just been extinguished, sword at the ready.

I was wary about letting myself sleep, but after that long day, I started to drift off... maybe sleeping for a bit wouldn't have been so bad...

I was woken shortly afterwards by an ear-splitting shriek. And then another one. I was the first person outside the tent, a knife in my hand. But once I started spinning around, I couldn't see anyone other than Samantha and the other Careers that had already sprung in to action beside me. So what was going on?

Then I saw it, and I had no idea how I'd missed it before, since it was practically glowing against the darkness of the rest of the meadow. It was a ghost, but of someone I'd never seen before. I looked around at the others' faces to see if any of them recognized him, but most of them just looked either terrified or just plain old freaked-out. Except for Ionia, who was staring at the ghost, then blinking quickly and looking away, and then looking back at it.

"D-Dad?" Ionia gasped out, stepping forwards a bit.

Arsin grabbed her arm and pulled her back harshly. "Don't touch it! It's probably a mutt!"

But the ghost only... laughed? It was fixated on Ionia. But then it seemed to freeze, as if terrified. "Ionia! What in Panem are you doing in the arena?!" It sounded more shocked than angry, which I didn't quite understand. Hadn't Ionia mentioned that she volunteered because she promised her dad she would?

"I... you told me to volunteer, before..." she trailed off a bit awkwardly, watching the grassy ground of the meadow. "You know..."

Now it was the ghost's turn to look confused. "I... you promised that you wouldn't volunteer, Ionia... but how did you get reaped?"

"But I did volunteer!" Ionia blurted out uncharacteristically. "You made me promise to volunteer!"

The ghost's image started to fade. "You must've heard me wrong..." It kept fading, but got in a few last words:

"Win... win for me, Ionia..."

Finding Nightmares (Day Two): Kizzy Ericssen, District 6 Female Tribute

My eyes shot open the next morning, only to find darkness. "Uh, hello! Gamemakers! Lights!" I called as loud as I dared. The rocks started glowing again. "Thank you," I mumbled, making sure it was extra sarcastic in case the cameras picked up on it. I was still trying to figure out the whole 'glowing cave' thing. I guessed that you had to 'activate' it at the beginning of the day, and then it just followed the sun's patterns until it eventually became pitch black for the night, or until you turned them on again, beyond that point. The amount of lighting showed me that it was still fairly early in the morning.

For a few minutes, I didn't move, not really having any reason to. Then, finally, I stretched and realized that I still had my backpack on, and it was smushed against the wall of the sort of cave corner that I was hiding in. I stood up a bit sorely to take it off. Note to self: sleeping on rocks is not good for comfort, no matter what it does for posture. Like standing up straight was my biggest concern.

I decided that now was the time to start on my food supply. Obviously I'd been hungry before, almost every day, but I hadn't been at risk of getting in to the middle of a battle at any given moment all of those times. So I took out my loaf of bread, and used my knife to take off a thick slice. I put my knife back in an outer pocket of my backpack, also putting the loaf back, and then forced myself to eat slowly. It seemed to help with the satisfaction level. When you battle starvation for several years, you pick up on a few things.

Next I took a few small sips of water to help wash down the bread, then replaced that back in my bag as well. I'd need to find a real food source and a safe place to get water soon. Wait... safe? Ha! As if you could be safe in the arena! What I meant to say, or think, was a safer place to get water where there weren't any rattlesnakes like the one I'd encountered last night. Supplies in their place, I took out the knife again and kept it in my hand while I put my backpack on.

Now was a better time than any to try and stock up on whatever food I could find, when I still had some food and water and wasn't injured or, as far as I knew, around any other tributes.

I headed out, wandering around the nearby area in search of something to eat, but found nothing. There were a few patches of tall, dry grass, but I doubted that it was completely edible, so I moved on. It was the next time that I turned that I saw it.

Within two seconds I had jumped back, knife in my hand and raised instinctively. But the thing made no move towards me. Great Panem, what was it?

It was... a ghost, yes. But of... who? My two twin little sisters. But there was only one ghost. There were two heads... no, two bodies--joined at the left, or, no, right, or, oh, I couldn't even tell, but both of them had one arm that seemed to be linked with the others, fading into just one limb, one hand and five fingers at the end. The whole thing was tinted a light blue, the color that their eyes had been. Both of them appeared to be completely cured of the sickness they had died from, looking almost happy with their hair neatly brushed out and wearing the matching sundresses they'd gotten for their eighth, and last, birthday. It was the sort of image that I'd only seen in nightmares.

"H-hello?" I tried, finding my voice failing.

"Hi, Kizzy!" the two both said brightly at the same time. They had mischevious grins on their faces as they said the words, the type that usually meant they were up to something.

"W-what are you doing in the a-arena?" Great, by then I felt really stupid, I was standing there talking to a ghost that no one else could probably see.

"We must... tell you... find..." The ghost started to fade.

"What?! Tell me what?! Stop fading, you stupid little brats, and tell me!"

"Find.... object.... five... find... Panem..."

"Tell me or I swear I'll--" I cut myself off, taking a deep breath in as the last wisps of tinted blue air faded and my sisters were gone from sight.

Finding things... five... objects... They were going to tell me something about the five objects! What was it that they had said about Panem?

I'd never know.

A bit shakily, now, I started off again, keeping an eye out for a reappearance of the ghost. That was really all that I did, actually. I couldn't get my mind off of it. Who's the insane tribute now? I asked myself mentally.

Then I came in to a larger, more open area than I'd found in this arena section before. It seemed to be where a lot of tunnel-cave things came together. And on top of a flat boulder near the back of this cave's wall (there was nothing that went deeper into this cave system), there sat... a book.

One of the objects.

I raced over to it, as though someone else was going to grab it if I didn't reach it fast enough, and picked it up hurriedly. This was what they were talking about! My sisters had known that I was close to finding it.

It was a small, yet thick, leather-bound book that was a blood-red shade of crimson. The pages seemed to be old--yellowed and torn. On the cover, printed in fine gold lettering, was the number "1".

It was the first object.

I was one step closer to winning the Games.

Why is This Happening?: Kyler Hail, District 8 Male Tribute

When I woke up the next morning, it was to the sound of "curplunk, curplunk, curplunk". More rain. Charity was already awake, going through the supplies yet again. She glanced over at me, noticing that I was up. "Took ya' long enough," she commented.

I sat up, feeling a bit sore and tired. "It's raining again."

"Well, no duh." She didn't seem to be too affected by last night at all. After the Careers had left, we'd cleared out so that the hovercraft could pick up Kildaire's body, and ended up

settling closer to the waterfall type thing that we'd found earlier. Charity didn't seem to care anymore. She didn't care that Kildaire was dead--not one bit.

But I did. I was the one who could've blocked the knife that took her life.

"Figure we should eat something?"

"What?" I was still barely awake. It had been a long, tiring night, and even though I couldn't find any real injuries, I seemed to have a lot of minor ones that hadn't made sleeping on the ground any more comfortable.

"Do you think we should eat?" Charity repeated, this time sounding like she was talking to someone who was really, really slow.

"You can, if you want. I'm not hungry," I answered. That was the truth. Okay, so, maybe it wasn't. I was hungry, but I was honestly in no mood to care. I'd let one of my allies die. And that was that. Nothing was going to make it change.

"Fine," she said, just like she did a lot. Again, like nothing had ever changed. I couldn't bring myself to be angry with her for not caring--she hadn't wanted another ally in the first place. But... still. Did none of this affect her at all?

A few minutes later, once Charity had finished breakfast and we'd packed up the sipplies again, she suggested that we went and stocked up on supplies, informing me that she'd already tried to store away some more water. But we could do with some more food.

I'd agreed, not really listening or paying attention. I felt... semi-concious, like everything else was just dull and gray and muted outside of my own thoughts, which just kept wandering. Suddenly, winning the Games sounded even less appealing. No, I'd already made up my mind--Charity was the one who was going home.

I'd never been a real competitor in these Games, anyways. Not when something like the death of an ally, of a girl that I'd barely even known, could throw me off so easily.

We'd started out, and Charity seemed to be gathering up some more bananas from the places that she had found yesterday. I wished that I could've been more help to her, but I was no expert on edible plants.

I picked up one of the berries and rolled it around in my fingers, examining it, before I set it on the side of the piece of paper in front of me labeled "Edible".

But someone's hand reached forwards, picked up the berry, and moved it over to the "Poisonous" side. I looked behind me to see who it was, and my eyes fell on the girl from District Seven.

The memory came back to me with more force than I'd expected, even though it was technically a happy one. Meaning, one where we hadn't been in the middle of a fight to the death. Somehow, that made it all the more depressing.

"I'll be back," I said to Charity, which only earned me another scowl from her. I didn't know where I was going to go, just that I needed to go somewhere where I'd be alone for a few minutes, just enough to take a few deep breaths and...

And... what? What was I walking away from? Or away... to?

Something told me to just go. Go. Somewhere. Anywhere.

I listened to the annoying part of my brain and quickened my pace a bit, heading deeper in to the rainforest to where the forestry was thicker. Why was I doing this?

I stopped, suddenly, my desire to keep walking vanished. I saw frantic motion to my right, and I jumped a foot in the air, already drawing out my sword.

Somehow, I hated that reaction. The automatic "fighting" instinct... it didn't seem right.

But there was nothing there.

I eyed the space suspiciously, then saw whatever the thing was come back in to view. It was...

I gasped, practically feeling my eyes widening. "Kildaire! What in Panem are you--"

"Shh..." she started.

"You... you talk now? What?"

"I came back to warn you--"

"But you're dead! Dead people don't talk, and they don't come back to life! But... what are you warning me about?"

"Time's short. I'm not really here, Kyler, but I must warn you... beware... keep your guard up..."

"For what? Who's going to attack us, Kildaire?! Kildaire?!"

She was starting to fade out, and I was panicking, feeling that depressive feeling starting to swallow me again like a black hole.

"It won't be 'us' anymore... just you... just you..."

"KILDAIRE KALITLIN, STOP FADING AND TELL ME WHAT IN PANEM IS GOING ON!"

Nothing. Maybe I was insane. The air in front of me was dead empty. I was surprised that no one had come to track me down yet.

"Hey, keep it down with your mental breakdown or you'll have the Careers back on us in a second," I heard Charity snarl from behind me.

"B-but didn't you see that... that... thing?" I asked desperately, hoping and wishing that I wasn't totally out-of-it yet.

"What thing?"

"Kildaire! It was her! Or... or her ghost! Or... something." I felt like I was going to pass out or something.

"And I thought that the girl from Nine was the only crazy one..." I heard Charity mumble as she walked away again.

"I'm not crazy!" I blurted out, to no one in particular.

Great Panem... why was this happening?

Home Sweet Cave (Day Two): Caladium Velius, District 9 Female Tribute

When I woke up it was dark outside. When it was dark, that meant that it was night, and you slept at night. So I went back to sleep. Or, I tried to, but there was too much noise. What was the noise?

"Cala! Cala!"

It sounded like... Lina?

"Good! You're up!"

Whatever/whoever it was, they sounded like they were in an oddly good mood with me.

"Are you hungry?"

Hungry. Food. Hunger. The Hunger Games. We were in the Games. Yes, we were in the Hunger Games. "Yes."

"That's what I thought," the person said. Why were they so confused about us being in the Games? Were we in the Games?

Yes, you're in the Games, genius!

"Why were you in the Games last night, Kane?"

"What?" I saw the person spin around to face me, and I felt myself stop talking. The person... Lina, she put some food down in front of me. Food... hunger. The Hunger Games. Thoughts came back to me. Kane had been out of my thoughts and in the Games last night. Last night wasn't that long ago.

"Long time ago... I had been in District Nine... long time ago."

"It wasn't that long ago, Cala. Just over a week, actually."

Week. The districts were weak. In the Games, everyone was not strong like they thought they were anymore.

Why did she think that District Nine wasn't that long ago?

"You should eat," she said.

There was food in front of me. At least, I thought it was food. So I ate it, because that was what she had said to do...

"Cala, I need you to stay here, inside the cave, okay? Be very quiet. I'm going to go try to find some water again."

It was quiet already. Why did it have to go on?

It's not quiet inside your head.

"Yes it is, Kane."

I thought that Lina had left. She was going to find water... that was what she said. She'd said a lot of things to me. Had she mentioned District Nine? I felt like she had, but she wasn't from there, was she? How did she know about it?

Was... was District Nine real?

Of course it is. What are you, insane?

People had called me insane. But that didn't mean that they were real, did it? Did Lina think I was insane? What about... what had his name been? Andrew? Androw? Ondraw? Ondrew!

Ondrew's dead, you idiot. Like me.

"You're not dead. If you were dead, you wouldn't be able to talk. I wouldn't have seen you last night."

I am to dead! Gosh, just listen to me for once, would ya'?

"You're not dead! You're not dead!" I screamed.

"Cala! Cala, are you all right? Cala!" Lina came back. "Is everything okay? You didn't see anybody, did you?"

I saw Kane. "Kane."

"You... saw Kane? Last night, you mean?"

"Kane's not dead. He's not dead. He's... somewhere."

Lina seemed confused. "Whatever you say. Look, I'll be back. Just... stay here, all right?"

I think that she left again, then. I was alone, except for Kane. But I couldn't see Kane, not now. I watched the sun and clouds move. Were they supposed to be moving? Was that a good thing?

"Kane, do clouds move?"

Seriously, Cala? Seriously!?

I was still confused, but I didn't ask again because Kane didn't seem to like it when I asked him things. Kane was just like that.

You have to be more focused. You're in danger. Lina could kill you.

"She's not the only one that could kill me."

Oh, yay! You can actually think now! Too bad you're wrong!

Why couldn't the others have killed me?

They're not close enough to you, not now. There is one who was, but he isn't anymore.

Who? Who was it?! Where was Lina?! She needed to be back here!

That isn't important! You need to get away from here! Trust me, sis.

"NO!" I heard someone yell. I thought that it might have been me.

"Cala! Shh! Everything's fine; really. I'm right over here," someone... Lina, said. Then she disappeared again, in this big thing of color. It looked like blood.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?!"

She came back. "Nothing, Cala; nothing. Shh. Just relax, take a nap or something. I'm not going to be gone for too much longer today."

Nap. Sleep. I was tired. Sleep sounded good. I laid down and closed my eyes. I thought that that was what people did when they slept, but nothing happened. Then I tried again, and I kept trying for a long time. But nothing ever happened, and then someone was shaking me, and I jumped back.

"Easy, it's just me," someone said. I could barely hear what they said. But it was just Lina, again.

"Where's Ondrew?!" I demanded. I needed to know where he was, now.

"Cala, Ondrew's dead. He has been ever since yesterday."

Where is dead? Where do you go? What happens? "Where are Ondrew and Lina and Kane?"

"I'm right here," Lina said.

But there was no answer from anyone else, and it was so frustrating.

"WHERE'S ONDREW?! WHERE'S KANE?!"

I'm right here, inside your head, oh brilliant one.

Then where was Ondrew?! Where was everyone?!

"I already said that Ondrew's dead. Kane is... somewhere. I don't know!" the person blurted out. I was starting to get annoyed. No, I was annoyed and frustrated and mad and... angry. It was weird.

This whole thing was weird! People kept disappearing to this place called 'dead' and then they didn't come back, but Kane kept saying that he was there! How did you get there?!

"Cala, shh, you just need to calm down. Everything's going to be fine."

"NOTHING IS FINE!"

What... was... nothing? Again?

Shut up, Cala, and get out of here!

"No, Kane. I'm not listening to you."

You never do.

"You should just get some sleep..." That wasn't Kane's voice, it was someone elses. Whose? Lina's?

It was all so confusing!

Maps of the Future (Day Two): Newcomb Birambau, District 3 Male Tribute

When I woke up in the morning, the only person who was awake yet was Callia, since she'd been on watch. It seemed like it was a bit before dawn--there were still stars out--and I didn't know why I'd woken up after such a short amount of time, or, at least, what seemed like it. "Morning," I said, careful not to wake the others. I walked over to where she was, which was a bit closer to the stream. And, no, it did not, in fact, escape my notice that she still had the knife in her hand.

She jumped a bit, but then relaxed. "Morning."

"I can watch now, if you want to get some sleep," I offered. "I'm not that tired."

She shrugged. "I'm all right. Thanks for offering, though."

After that, I stayed up anyways, unable to go back to sleep. I felt sort of... jumpy. For once, I felt the need to talk, to say something, anything, just to break the silence. It was sort of weird to sit there next to a person who was holding a knife in a place where she was allowed (encouraged) to kill you, and not say anything at all. Not that I thought that Callia was going to break off the alliance. I guessed that I probably trusted her the most, above Namitha and Link, just because she was the only person that I'd ever really asked to be allies with.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" I asked.

Not looking at me, she answered, "I figured that we could try to map out the area."

"Sounds good," I agreed. "Are you planning on waking the other two at any point?"

"Probably around dawn or something," Callia said. "I mean, there's no sense in wasting daylight."

"Very true." My talkative phase was apparently over. I'd run out of things to say already.

Around dawn, we did go to wake the other two. To be honest, Namitha still seemed a bit shaken up by seeing Tara's ghost last night. I mean, I guess I could see why--she was her mentor, after all, and her cousin. And I would've never even guessed that she'd died until all of the rumors started flying around. But, still, I couldn't help but think, this is the Hunger Games. You have to get over things.

Maybe that made me sound a bit heartless. But that was just the way things were.

Callia got out some of the edible plants and made a small breakfast out of them for us. Oddly enough, I didn't feel as hungry as I thought I would be. District Three wasn't one of the poorest districts, really, and I'd certainly always had enough to eat, but... I guessed that I was a bit better off in preparation for being hungry than the Careers were.

Callia quietly told Namitha and Link about her idea of trying to map out the area around our camp, and they agreed that we could just try to draw it in the dirt with some basic symbols.

So we started to walk around, spiraling outward in circles from where our camp was. That was the first thing we put on the map--then the stream, and our old campsite. The place where we'd left the horses (they were still there, apparently not having anywhere else to go), and some of the best routes out of our general area.

When there finally didn't seem to be a lot to add, not without straying pretty far away from where we were, we left the map undisturbed on the ground, putting the rope around it so that we'd know to not step on it or whatnot.

"Well, at least that's done," Namitha said.

"The only thing is... if we're mostly going to be relying on plants for food, then, I mean, this area'll run out eventually, and we'll have to move," Callia pointed out.

As if a sponsor had heard her (which they very well could have), almost instantly after the words were out of her mouth, a silver parachute dropped out of the sky, landing with a not-so-slight "thud" in the middle of the rough circle we were standing in. It was a bit of a relieving thought, to think that we might've been featured on screen at that moment, just because that meant that there was nothing more interesting going on. No chaos for today.

There was a note attached to the gift. This wasn't completely unheard of in the Games--mentors could attach a note to a gift from a sponsor if they wanted to, but they were the only ones who could clear a note being sent into the arena.

Link picked up the parachute, then held it out to me and Callia. "I... I think it's for you two," he said.

For both of us? For the alliance was more likely, but Callia picked up the note and read it aloud. "Stay where you are." She paused, then added, "It's definitely Alya's handwriting." That was her mentor--though she'd sort of taken over training both of us.

I repeated the words under my breath as Callia opened up the parachute and looked at what was inside it. A medium-sized cooking pot filled about three-quarters of the way full (a quarter-way empty, if you prefered to look at it that way), of soup. What kind of soup? You couldn't have asked me, it seemed to be such a blend of things.

"Seems like it's for the alliance, really," Callia observed, and the rest of us just sort of nodded.

"Guess we're staying here, then," Namitha said.

"I wonder why she'd tell us to stay," I put in, just thinking out loud. "I mean, that means that there has to be something out there, right? That we wouldn't want to run in to?"

"I guess," Link shrugged. "But our mentors can't just keep sending food forever. Even the Careers don't get gifts that often anymore."

"Maybe between what we already have and what we can find, we could make whatever they send us work for a while longer," Callia said. "If Alya or your mentors send anything else, that is."

All I knew was that I hoped that they sent more later on. At this rate, with Alya not wanting us to leave the area, we'd probably need it, no matter what Callia said. We might've been forced to leave the area eventually, but what would Alya do then? Decide that since we hadn't followed her orders, she wasn't going to send us anything? Would there be enough food out there to keep us alive?

Why did she think we were better off here?

I was thinking too much, but, then again, I had a tendency to do that a lot.

"Maybe it'll all just work out," Namitha added.

But like I'd thought earlier--these were the Hunger Games, and things rarely ever took a turn for the better.

Circles of Doom (Day Two): Maine Hofman, District 11 Male Tribute

Once I'd finally given up on getting any more sleep, I knew that I was going to have to start my exploration of the arena soon. It was already getting later on into the morning, anyways. You know, in so many Games, the tributes all just seem to be morning people, who, even in the middle of the arena, always wake up at the crack of dawn. Me? No. That wasn't my style.

So I packed up my camp, took a pack of trail mix out of my bag to eat while I walked, holding my spear in my other hand just in case, and started out.

For quite a while, there were just the woods that I was already in. But by mid-afternoon I could see the end of them. Now, I liked to think that I wasn't completely reckless, so I approached the edge of the woods, staying mostly behind one of the thicker trees in case there were any tributes there.

Sure enough, there they were--the entire Career pack, set up in the meadow just outside of the woods. Beyond their camp, I could see another patch of woods, then a good-sized lake, connected to a huge waterfall.

I decided that heading straight in to the section where the Careers were wasn't a good idea, as much as I wanted to find the five objects. I could skip the one in that area for now.

But how did I get past them?

To my right, there were more woods, connected to the ones at the other end of the Careers' camp. But to get anywhere, that would involve swimming across that lake, in plain sight, when I can't really swim. So that was out.

I could always go back, go back to the south-southeast area of the arena that I'd been in, with the thick woods to conceal me; but then I wouldn't have gotten anywhere and would've been just wasting my time.

To my left, there was the wide hedge that surrounded the cornucopia. Wait a second... could I go back in to the cornucopia area to move to the other side of their camp?

It was worth a shot, that was for sure!

So I went back the way I came just long enough until I found the break in the hedge that led back in to the sort of maze surrounding the tribute plates.

Really, it was pretty far back, but still seemed to be closer to me than to whatever was on the other side of the woods. So I went back in to the "maze", carefully, and eventually ended up at the now empty cornucopia. Then I walked through the exit that was closest to the right of where I'd come in, and went back out.

You'd think that this whole thing would sort of fry your nerves--but, honestly, it didn't. I didn't really know why I felt like I wasn't about to collapse from fear of being found. But it had started to almost feel... natural.

In front of me now was the section to the north of the Careers' camp. It seemed to be made completely of rock, but there was a huge, long crevice that took up most of the space, and there was a sort of rock-wall leading down on to the rocky ground. But I thought I saw an

opening going in to the rock on the other side, like, the beginning of a cave, maybe? That seemed like a good place to hide one of the objects!

First I had to get down that rock-wall. So I started to climb down, hoping that I wasn't too in plain sight. The climbing wasn't too difficult, overall, and I dropped on to the bottom of the crevice easily.

Then I started out in to the caves.

First thing I noticed--they glowed. The rocks glowed, perfectly imitating the amount of light that there was outside. Secondly--there was like a whole system of caves and caverns, going so far in to the rock that I was sure it had to be going beyond what you could see from the outside!

But then I heard them.

Footsteps.

Heading straight for me.

I started to spin around in circles, looking for what it was, or who it was, that was following me, holding my spear out in front of me.

And finally, my eyes fell on none other than Kizzy Ericssen--that girl from District Six.

For some reason, my first reaction was relief that it wasn't a stronger tribute. It wasn't one of the Careers; it wasn't one of the other more challenging tributes.

Sure, she was three years older than me, but she was on the small side, and she'd gotten a three in training, while I'd gotten an eleven.

Yet here she was in front of me--alive, uninjured, armed with supplies... and seemingly alone.

This was the point where one of us was supposed to kill the other--where one of us was going to throw the weapon in our hands at the other (she had a knife, apparently), and their cannon would fire. The other would proceed onwards, most likely stealing the other's supplies. OR we would form an alliance.

But that's not what happened.

(Honestly, I might've taken her on as an ally, if she was a different tribute. But she'd probably just be a liability, probably try to kill me in my sleep.)

"Fancy seeing you here," she scowled at me.

Not lowering my weapon, even though she wasn't trying to kill me yet, I went along with it, and said, "Big shocker, huh? Especially coming from the girl who got a three in training."

"Don't act like you know everything," she snarled. "You're the one who's about to die."

We are the Careers (Day Two): Ionia Kai, District 4 Female Tribute

Today was what I always called a "rest day". The title sounded simple enough, but, back home in District Four, it wasn't anything short of tradition. Mostly, it was because of something that started a long time ago, something that no one really remembered anymore. But, even now, we still had "rest days". Essentially, it was when a household would declare one for themselves. Each family was allowed two per year. And on that day, the kids didn't go to school, the adults

didn't go to work, and nothing really got done. It was a day to catch up on sleep and get rid of some stress. People had their own nicknames for the day, but one was always "do-nothing day". Though that'd never really applied for me-I couldn't really "do nothing". I was just incapable of it, which was why today drove me crazy.

After last night's "incident", (which had undoubtedly freaked me out a bit), we mostly just sort of went back to sleep. I rarely ever slept for more than five hours in a night, so once I was up, first it was just staring up at the ceiling of the tent, and then I finally carefully went outside. Samantha was still on watch, so I said, "I can watch until everyone's up, if you want."

She watched me a bit suspiciously for a moment, but then seemed to relax and said, "Um... okay. Thanks."

"Anytime," I said, trying to sound casual.

Samantha went back inside the tent, and I suppose that she fell asleep fairly quickly, because otherwise, she probably would've changed her mind about me keeping watch. She seemed to be a bit overly-wary of the idea that people could betray our alliance. I didn't think that they would too soon, but I suppose that she had a point in being careful. You couldn't stay awake forever, though. Yet she did seem like she might've been up to something...

Despite my worries, nothing eventful happened while I was guarding our camp. It was already getting to be later into the morning, and the others still seemed to be asleep. I knew that we'd all had a bit of a long night, but, still... did everyone else seriously sleep in this late? How could they even sleep anyways, under these circumstances? Even though I knew that I would be the only person who was really affected by last night, it still seemed like the others might've been a bit shaken by it. I mean, like Arsin said, even as much as I hated to agree with him, the ghost technically could've been harmful. I doubted it, but... still.

So I spent most of my time on watch trying to figure out the rest of my arena strategy. Like... when I should've broken off the Career alliance, or how we were supposed to track down the five objects. I wasn't really getting the feeling that my allies were trying to break off the alliance too soon. Arsin and Marco were definitely ones to look out for, and Samantha'd been acting a little weird... Plus, what was with the District One pair going off on their own last night? Were they the ones I should've been suspicious of all along? Maybe...

Now I was reminding myself of Samantha-being a bit overly paranoid.

I had a bit of a plan-we were going to find the object of this area soon, I was sure of it. I'd suggest the idea myself if I had to. The others would surely want to stay here, to keep tracking down the other tributes, one by one, alliance by alliance... several were going to be out for revenge on the pair from Eight. But I did have one idea that I thought I could maybe get Arsin one my side on... through the hedge, even though it was fairly thick, I could've sworn that I saw a section that looked like a beach of some sort during the bloodbath. I doubted that too many tributes would head in that direction-not many knew how to swim, and I wouldn't have been surprised if Arsin and I were the only ones in the whole arena that really could.

So that was another potentially empty part of the arena, where the object would

practically be ours for the taking. Or maybe it was just my District Four instincts telling me to get back to the water-and not the lake in this section. Then again, if it was salt-water in that section... how long would our fresh supply last? A few days, tops, with no other source. Hmm... still, it had to be better than nothing at all...

I must've been on watch for hours before the next person woke up. Like I said, it was a resting day. Behind me, Arsin was up next. "Where's Samantha?" he asked.

"Sleeping. In the tent. Didn't you see her?"

"No."

"She couldn't have gotten out," I pointed out, trying not to sound nervous. "The only exit is practically right in front of me. I would've seen her. Why don't you check again?"

He did. I found it sort of surprising that he didn't argue, but I wasn't about to question it. "Yeah. She's sleeping. Been acting weird, though."

I shrugged, not wanting to make more enemies than I had to. Plus, if Samantha really was up to something, I'd want her on my side more than anyone else's. "I guess."

Eventually, the others all got up, but nothing happened. We made a plan to go hunting again-at night. Like the typical Careers that we were (not).

Because that's what we were:

We were the tributes, and we were the Careers.

Back Home in the Districts:

Devena Stone, District One

Nothing exciting today. We were approaching night two of the four-hundred fifth Games, and, already, eight tributes were dead. A third of the field... eliminated.

And I didn't even get to see what was happening to Fabian--the cameras were too focused on that arrogant boy from Eleven and the girl from Six, who were standing there and talking; talking! As if they weren't about to start killing each other in a few minutes! What was the point of it all... I had to wonder...

I finally got a glimpse of him when the Gamemakers cut away from the battle that was sure to break out to recap what the other tributes were up to. The pair from Eight were still in the rainforest, the crazy one from Nine whose name I didn't remember and her ally were still in their cave... the 'Alliance of the Mockingjays' was still working on those maps, and the Careers were resting, getting ready to go out and hunt.

But who cared about the rest of the Careers?

Not us, that was for sure--me and Shade. My parents were probably out watching the Games in the square with the rest of the district, but, no, the two of us were in my room, both unable to move for fear of something happening.

I knew that I'd promised Fabian I'd take care of her, but what was I supposed to do if the kid refused to eat or sleep or move?

I was a horrible babysitter, whether the circumstances of her having to get away from her abusive dad were dire or not.

Fabian was the one who could get through to her...

Please, come home, Fabian. Preferably alive.

Henrik Armfeldt, District Nine

I'd like to be able to say that I was focusing on the Games, which were playing on massive screens in the center of town, but I wasn't. I was trying to find my twin brother, Fredrik, who, if I was correct, was most likely trying to figure out if Ikky was in the crowd of people or not. My bet was going to be on not, but, some people you just can't talk any sense into.

I liked to think of myself as the type of person who was patient. Willing to wait. Understanding. But, today, I had lost my tolerance. Fredrik spent all his time pining for the love of Ikky Delacroix, who he technically barely even knew.

I finally forced myself to stop where I was and think, use a more analytical approach. Fredrik would surely be searching for Ikky, but where would she be? I didn't really know--he was the one who was so obsessed with 'er. But I tried to remember the little that I'd seen of her at school, and think of where she would be if she was in the area.

She struck me as the observant type, so she'd be in a place with a good view of what was going on. The balconies on the nearby buildings.

I looked up at one of the screens--which was showing the beginnings of a battle between two tributes--and sighed. Dad would want both of us home any second, and while I wasn't really interested in watching the Games, nor did I have anyone I cared about in them, this year, I'd rather watch them then be doing this--trying to track down other people who didn't have the sense I did.

I just hoped that some of those tributes were a bit brighter than they seemed.

Sigma, District Eleven

Maine, Maine, Maine.

Sure, he was my best friend, the reason I got anywhere on time, and my first kiss (though he doesn't remember that), but that didn't mean that he wasn't a complete idiot at times. Like now.

He was faced with the girl from District Six--Kizzy Ericssen, age seventeen, currently the next-to-least-sponsored tribute in the Games--and he was acting so, so overconfident. Couldn't he see that this girl was clearly up to something?

It didn't mean that I was not worried about him, though. Of course I was. I just wished that Maine was just as concerned about the looming battle as I felt.

The drawing I'd been working on during an earlier intermission of the Games laid, abandoned, at my feet, yet I couldn't help but glance at it. When completed, it was supposed to be a picture of the orchards in our district. I knew that Maine never liked those orchards, not since he was twelve, anyways, when he tried to steal an apple from them and got whipped unconscious for it--(why he probably doesn't remember the time I kissed him)--but I always loved the orchards, the way they looked in the fall, especially...

I forced myself to focus back on the Games. Focus, focus, focus...

They were still talking. Just kill her, Maine! I wanted to scream at him. Get it over with!

That made me sound like a horrible person, certainly.

But that was just how the Hunger Games worked.

Andrew Radke, District Six

I refused to watch the Games.

I just wasn't going to do it.

Sure, I'd cooperate with my parents for as long as I could stand to, but just before the Games really began, before the gong went off, I left for one of my few-day sessions of wandering around the district, fending for myself. Rebelling.

It wasn't the bloodshed, the gore, the violence, that bothered me. It was the ideas behind all of it--the Capitol's control, the being forced to stay in line, to act how they wanted, when they wanted. I couldn't stand it.

I never talked to people when I was living in the district and not at home. Not my parents or my sister, 'RF', not even Ashly--the only person that mattered to me.

I'd taken to one of the mountains that was actually inside of District Six this time--high and isolated, just how I liked it. Most of the time I'd sit and think, contemplate some ideas for the explosions I would plan. Sometimes I'd go for a run to try and chill out, get some adrenaline into my system, too.

But, someone might ask, didn't I care about how the Games turned out?

In a word: no. I really didn't.

I wasn't stupid--I'd gone to the Reaping, seen the tributes reaped, heard the announcement of the Quarter Quell--but why should I have cared about how one of the things I hated most ended, year after year after year...

I wasn't in the Games. Ashly wasn't in the Games. Who else mattered?

The tributes this year from Six had seemed tough enough. But I didn't know--the girl got a three in training. Maybe she was like me, wasn't going to put on a stupid show for the Gamemakers... smart kid.

Why cooperate when there were things that were so much better?

Airah Trevor, District Five

I woke up on the second day of the Games feeling sick, like I always had since I'd come down with whatever in Panem illness I had. Staring endlessly at the bleak, gray walls of the community home wasn't helping, either.

Even though I was allowed to stay in bed, I was still practically forced to watch the Games as they played on a nearby television. Day two held nothing exciting, really--most of the tributes were still really scared of the ghosts, and the most exciting thing that happened for most of the day was when the girl from Six found the first object. I guessed that was supposed to be a bit more of a big deal, but it wasn't really... action-y. Still, I didn't comment on it outloud--talking took up too much of my energy. Normally, I was considered a model patient--quiet, still, and, well, patient (pun intended), and so I was today.

I mostly drifted in and out of sleep, not really too sure of what was going on except for glimpses of the Games, which was how I knew what I did about it.

I didn't even have any idea where the girl who was technically my best friend, Hannah, was. Most likely, wherever she was, she was talking. About something optimistic. That was the way she was. Sometimes, I just wanted her to shut up--I didn't really have being caring in me anymore--but I did miss her rambling today... it would've tuned out the Games.

If only you could tune out reality as well...

York, District Twelve

"Mom! Mom! What's wrong with York? He just keeps staring at the TV!"

I couldn't bring myself to care about what my little sisters were saying, couldn't make myself listen to mom's response. She was probably trying to offer some reassurance, like, "Oh he's just worried about his friend..." I wondered if they even knew that it was Lina who was in the Games, and not just some random kid from the Seam. But I didn't really care about what they knew or not at that point.

All I could pay attention to was Lina--in the Games.

Because of the Capitol.

She was smart, of course, (and I'd taught her some things about stealing, admittedly), enough to win, but she was stuck with the schizophrenic and she couldn't find any water yet. She wasn't too far from it, but she wasn't letting herself get too far away from Cala.

I watched as she ran forwards a bit, thinking she saw something. The necklace I gave her at the goodbye after the Reaping, the one with the key on it, was still dangling around her neck. Hopefully, the word "goodbye" wasn't really going to come to define our interaction after the Reaping.

I knew, I knew this was coming. That Lina wouldn't be able to kill any of her allies. She was always just too motherly to.

It was one of the things I loved about her, but it was also one of the things that could get her killed. Aurelia D'Avranches, District Two

"AURELIA!"

"What?!" I spat, spinning to face my twin. My 'older' twin, as he liked to remind me of so constantly--half to annoy me and half to make me laugh.

"It's the Games! Maine and Kizzy! They just met up in the caves!" Evander enthused.

My anger faded, for once, as surprise and excitement set in. Normally, I wouldn't have listened to him, and just said something like, "And why should I care?", but this was the Games that he was talking about. Something that actually mattered if I was to ever win them. "No way! How?"

Evander started to explain as we went back inside. "Maine was circling the arena and ended up in the caves. And that's where Kizzy is, and she ain't happy 'bout this one!"

We both ended up back in the living room, in front of the television. Evander was right--Maine and Kizzy were both in the cave system, and not too far in, by the looks of it. They were about to start fighting any second now.

This. This was what the Games were really all about. Not so much the blood or gore, but this sort of moment--a battle of wits, strength, and technique, pitting district against district. A true art form.

It reminded me of why I wanted to win them so badly. Of why Evander did. Of why almost all of District Two did!

They were just so... thought out, designed to be the perfect battle.

Oh, how I loved the Games.

Vince Perolla, District Three

People apparently found it funny when the district's "golden boy" turned into a worried, mother-like figure when his little cousin got reaped for the Hunger Games. Callia, Callia, Callia--what were we ever going to do with her?

It was weird how you didn't notice how much you cared about someone until they were... well, about to die.

She knew it, I did... everyone else refused to believe it.

But I'd be the one watching until that happened. I would be the one sending in the sponsor money that got the food for her and her allies.

Callia was always more like my little sister than my cousin. Even if she never got the chance to realize it--it was me who told the more popular kids to stop annoying her at school, the one who sent in the money for the food in the arena, the one who anonymously put that book on edible plants in her locker on her birthday, the one that took her side in her ever-raging battle with her mother about her appearance.

And now, I didn't just fear that she'd never be able to see all of that--I knew it. Callia was going to die. I hated to be so pessimistic, to just accept the fact while she still had a chance... but it was true. District Three just didn't create winners for the Hunger Games.

Of course, she could've still proved me wrong... and I hoped that she did.

We'll Be Back (Night Two): Kizzy Ericssen, District 6 Female Tribute

For a few seconds, Maine and I just stood there, neither of us moving. I think he was still trying to take in the fact that I wasn't as stupid as my training score made me seem. I was torn between feeling glad that if he'd fallen for my trick, most of the others would've as well, and then

feeling sick in the pre-battle atmosphere. Stupid, arrogant, and naive. Maine Hofman in three words.

It was clear then that he wasn't going to be the first one to move--he was going to stand there until I either completely backtracked and decided to ally with him, or made a move to try and kill. I settled for the latter, and, oh-so-slowly raised my hand that had the knife in it, deciding how to go about this.

When I made my first and only kill of the Games--Tod--I'd just thrown the knife at him and it'd hit its target quickly. But, now, with just the two of us and a closer proximity, I wasn't sure just how well that was going to work.

The Gamemakers didn't give me time to decide.

The lights in the cave all went out at the same time, leaving us in pitch-blackness. My first instinct was what I did--ducked and jumped to the side, expecting Maine to throw his weapon the second that that happened. But from what I could tell, based on the fact that there was no "thud" of a weapon hitting the ground, he hadn't, anyways. This was going to make things more interesting.

I never really liked the dark--more the not knowing than anything, and this was the prime situation for wanting to use your eyesight. Gee, thanks, I said to the Gamemakers mentally. Really. Couldn't have given me two more seconds, could you?

Then I heard them.

The scuffling of footsteps, not human, but lots of them. Then, a group of something small scurrying around my feet and trying to climb on to my shoes while I hopped from foot to foot to disengage them. ... Prairie dogs?

Weren't they supposed to live, oh, I don't know, on the prairie?

No time to reflect on habitat research.

I wasn't just going to launch my knife, now. Then I'd lose my only weapon in the dark, with whatever in Panem these animals were practically covering the ground.

Still hopping, still trying to be able to see something, anything, I reached out to try and grab on to something to see where I was. Why couldn't I even remember?! Was I turning in to that freak from Nine or something?

The first thing I grabbed a hold of seemed to be... Maine. Lovely.

I slashed at the air in front of me with my knife, trying to avoid making a sloppy hit where I'd get myself instead of him because of these animals and the dark, and eventually, I heard a cry of pain and then the thud of someone hitting the ground--but no cannon.

It took me a second, but then it hit me--he wasn't dead yet, but the prairie dogs were swarming from all around me, like a wave, right towards him. They'd found their newest, easiest prey and victim--District Eleven's male tribute.

And as for me? I was taking as many steps backwards as I could to try and get away from those things. Maine still seemed to be fighting, but the animals had to be pretty strong for rodents if they were keeping him down. My own knife landed somewhere near my feet when Maine tried to kill me one last time and failed. I hesitantly reached down for it, taking a few seconds to find it in the dark.

Not wanting Maine to somehow overpower the mutts, I threw it back towards the ground in the direction that the animals had been moving in and heard a final cry of pain, and then a cannon.

The lights in the cave all turned back on at once, (when I finally got a good few of the animal things--they did, in fact, seem to be rather rodent-like), and the mutts dispersed out into the caves. Then, the sight of Maine's mangled body, with two marks from my knife in his stomach and shoulder, along with the teeth marks all over from the mutts.

I retrieved my weapon and Maine's supplies; then I realized that my hand was shaking while I did.

I didn't know what to do, but night was falling, and I didn't want to go out in to the rest of the arena just yet. I had to clear out so they could collect the body, too, even though I didn't know how they would in this cave system. So I started to try and find a place to settle down for the night, finding somewhere similar to where I had last night.

Shortly afterwards, the anthem played. There were two faces up there tonight--Maine, and then the girl from Seven.

From there, I started to sort through the supplies that I'd taken from Maine--a spare set of clothes, some dried fruit and trail mix, a container of water, a tarp, a sleeping bag, and some rope. He did well at the Cornucopia, then. That or it was him that took down the Seven girl and took her supplies.

With the lights in this section so dim, I had to pull out my flashlight, but once I'd shoved the new supplies into my bag, I took out the object that I'd found today. The book. I wasn't a huge reader; it just wasn't all that practical for me, but curiosity was getting the better of me.

So I started reading.

It seemed, at first, to just be another boring book about the Dark Days. Something that I would've tuned out as it was read at the Reaping. But I tried to be patient, and it worked out. After a few pages, there was a... different section:

If you're reading this, the odds are that you already know about all of that... but what you don't know is that it isn't true.

The Dark Days simply did not occur as you are meant to believe that they did.

District Thirteen never rebelled.

There's a nation outside of Panem.

There weren't really just thirteen districts.

Still trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke, I kept reading:

The history of Panem as you know it is fairly correct up until the point of the rebellion--the only inaccurate part would be that there were originally fourteen districts, not thirteen as you are to believe. From there on in, however, everything you know is entirely, utterly wrong.

District Thirteen didn't lead the war against the Capitol because of unfair treatment--District Fourteen did, because they wanted to become their own country. But the Capitol wouldn't let them.

Now, what was going on wasn't really all that public, mind you. District Thirteen was the district that the Capitol put at fault in the districts' eyes. They didn't want them to know about the real battle going on. And what would the districts know about it?

It was... it was... almost... believable. But this was crazy! Whoever wrote this was obviously psycho or something.

So when District Fourteen simply became too powerful, wanted too much power, the Capitol was forced to let them become their own nation. They obliterated an innocent and unsuspecting District Thirteen, told the districts that the war was their fault, and created the Hunger Games as punishment.

But wouldn't the districts want to know what had happened to District Fourteen, you might ask?

Well, yeah, in a word. I mean: duh.

The Capitol told the remaining districts that Fourteen was just as much to blame as Thirteen for the war, that they were one of their most loyal followers, and so they had received the same punishment--being blown off the map completely. But they hardly ever mentioned them again, not in the Treaty of Treason or in the story of the history of Panem--and the districts were hardly in a position to argue or question it.

Over time, anyone who knew the truth in Panem was killed, all evidence of the fight with District Fourteen destroyed. The only person who knew was the president, who passed on the

knowledge to the next president, who passed it on to the person after them... and only one record remained: this one, and the four "sequels".

Still not really believing this, as I turned the page, a worn piece of paper fell out of the book. I picked it up and looked at it. It seemed to be a (rather familiar looking) music score, and on the top of the page, in neat handwriting, was written:

It was necessary to keep around one record because of this message, which was just very recently decoded.

And, in fact, under each musical note, there was a letter written. Put together, the letters said:

District Fourteen will be back.

Betrayal (Night Two): Charity Reed, District 8 Female Tribute

I'd finally managed to ditch Kyler back at our camp after a long day of really getting nowhere in looking for supplies. He'd been useless in our search, of course. "I let Kildaire die, blah, blah, blah..."

Fine, Kyler, have it your own way, I thought. Just for a few more hours...

But before I put my plan into place, I had one last thing to take care of. I'd have to clear out for the hovercraft, and when I did, I wanted to be able to get out of this stupid rainforest. From what I could tell, there wasn't anybody in the section to the west of ours. That was where I was going to head next.

This section did have one thing that I couldn't leave behind, though. The object. There had to be a book in this part of the arena, and my odds of finding it were higher now. On the plus side, no one would have to know that I had it once I found it. Not even Kyler.

And he believed that I was going to go find some more food.

I figured that the object was bound to be near the back of this section. It just made sense, right? That way, a tribute would have to go all the way through the rainforest to find it...

I knew that I was heading in the right direction when I started getting into the harder-to-access areas. Ones where the trees were thicker, it was raining harder, and there were more creepy-looking mutts. Oddly enough, none of them made a move towards me, just watched, eerily... as if trying to ward me off.

Then I saw it, though, just through the raindrops. It was slightly covered by a layer of leaves and dirt, but I could've sworn that I saw a book hidden there. I went over to it cautiously, hoping that this wasn't a trap. I picked up the book, and so I had it. That was easy. Almost a bit too easy. Were the Gamemakers trying to... what, reward me? For being potentially one of the more... interesting, or even smarter tributes?

Either way, I started to head back to camp, staying just out of sight until Kyler, in his pacing, wasn't facing me so I could dash forwards just a bit and shove the book quickly under my blanket. Okay, so maybe the hiding place was a bit obvious, but Kyler didn't seem to be in any sort of state to notice.

"Just about done moping?" I asked him.

"Did you find any food?" He answered with a question, ignoring my own.

Oh. Great. I forgot to bring something back to make my story more convincing. "No. Nothing out there, apparently. We should head out to somewhere else tomorrow." Good. I was pretending that there was going to be a tomorrow for the District Eight alliance.

"What about the object here?"

He learned fast, apparently. "If we haven't found it yet, we're not going to," I answered as steadily as I could.

"Fair enough."

Soon after that, the anthem played--there were two deaths today--the boy from Eleven (which must've been the cannon we'd heard a little while ago), and, of course, Kildaire. At her appearance Kyler completely froze up again and announced, "I'm going to bed."

You don't really think about it that much, but the saying doesn't really go over too well when there are no beds. "Whatever," I said. "Don't eat dinner, then. See if I care." I didn't.

As Kyler started to drift off, I sort of pretended that I was as well. (Speaking of which, we'd never assigned watches...) But I was all too aware of the book sitting under my blanket. Part of me was itching to read it and find out just what it was all about, but the other half of me just wanted to get tonight over with and get out of here while I could.

When I was just about as sure as could be that Kyler was fast asleep, I slowly stood up from where I was and started putting my supplies together. I took the extra blanket, the one that belonged to Kildaire, and spread it out, placing my own blanket, the bananas, and the box of matches on top of it. The rest of the supplies I'd leave here, except for the sword. It was lying dangerously close to where Kyler was.

Practically holding my breath, I picked up the corners of the blanket and arranged the fabric into something that I could carry over my shoulder, not releasing my grip on it. If Kyler woke, I'd still need to get out of here. Fast.

I retrieved the sword from its sheath without too much trouble, but it was a bit difficult to do with just one hand, even if it was my good one. I wasn't totally sure of just how to about this, but I raised the sword over him before I brought it crashing down, right through... his shoulder. Not a completely fatal hit. His eyes flew open, but with his injury and the shock of barely being awake, I was able to get one more hit in, my heart racing more than I anticipated, and sliced the weapon towards the ground once again, this time right through his throat. Kyler's cannon fired.

My heart rate slowed, my breathing steadied, but I found myself unable to move. The kill hadn't brough the... satisfaction, that I thought it would. I couldn't say that I particularly felt bad, but, still... I was consumed by the feeling that I was drowning, suffocating, even though I had plenty of air and was breating evenly. I couldn't move, couldn't draw my eyes away from Kyler's blood, splattered across the gleaming silver weapon in my hands.

After a few moments of recovery, I raised the sword off of the ground and went on to the next section.

Death and Family (Night Two): Carolina Rowan, District 12 Female Tribute

"WHY'D YOU HAVE TO DIE, KANE?!"

I sighed. Cala had been up to this latest rant since sundown, ever since the ghost came back. By now, it was after the anthem. The Gamemakers just seemed to be trying to set her off.

"I'm telling you, Cal', you're confusing me with someone else. 'Kane' is a voice in your head."

Cala seemed to be just as confused as I was, shaking her head and backing away from the ghost. "No! No!" She was screaming again. I'd given up on trying to get her to stop after a while of it. "Kane is real! Realer than you! You're just a projection of the Capitol!"

Another clap of thunder from outside the cave--as if to fit the mood, the Gamemakers had sent in a huge monsoon over at least this part of the arena.

"The Capitol," the ghost echoed, spitting out the words with disgust, "doesn't even know who I am." That was when I started to be really surprised; one, that the ghost hadn't faded out yet, if the Capitol was controlling it, and, two, that the Capitol might not have been controlling it, if it was saying things about the leaders of Panem like that...

But if they weren't... who was?

"Cala," I started slowly, "why don't we set up camp somewhere else for tonight?"

"No!" To prove her point and the fact that she might've had the right idea for once, lightning flashed outside, throwing a bright, harsh light over all of us for just a few seconds, and a gust of wind threw a sheet of rain inside the cave.

"They may have killed me, but I'm not gone yet!" the ghost, Kane or whatever it was, cut in triumphantly.

I swear that in that moment, that fraction of a second after he said that, something in Cala just snapped. Suddenly, her expression was alive, I mean, really alive, not just confused. Her blue eyes suddenly just held... something. Did it even matter what it was? It was something that wasn't there before, that had been missing. There was almost a certain amount of... understanding.

"Kanton!"

Completely unrelated to what he had just said. Kanton. I felt like Cala might've said the word before, but it didn't have any meaning to me.

"Your--that is to say, our--parents are liars." The ghost's voice was colder now, whoever or whatever it was. "You did have a brother, no matter what they say."

"Kanton Velius." Cala muttered the two words to herself. "Kanton Velius."

Velius... that was Cala's last name. Cala had a brother... named Kanton. The Capitol killed him. This was, in some form, his ghost. That was all that I could piece together. But that still left so many questions... like, what was this thing, anyways? And where did "Kane" come into all of this? And... was this why Cala had so many problems?

"Yes," the ghost said. "Don't you remember?"

"Kane," Cala whispered, so quietly that even I could barely hear her. "Kane talked to me."

"Just after I died," the ghost smirked. "Probably what confused you."

There was another roll of thunder, lower this time and further off in the distance, and another flash of lightning. When the light faded, so did the ghost. Gone. Just like that. And I was still trying to process all of this.

Cala retreated to one of the corners of the cave, curling up into a rather small space and just lying there, staring at the cave wall. "The trackers," she said quietly. "They can make you see things that aren't really there. Makes you see your memories. Film editing for everyone else."

What she was saying wasn't making any sense. Trackers? What--oh. Those. The tiny little microchips that we tributes have put in during our journey to the arena. That had to be what she was talking about, right?

"The microchips?" I asked aloud. There was no answer.

They can make you see things. Could they? That would be news. I tried to remember if I'd ever heard about anything weird with the chips. Were the... hallucinations intentional? Was that why we could both see them? ... Or was I just going completely mad like Cala?

Makes you see your memories. The Capitol might not have had to know about Kanton, then. If the chips were connected to your brain or something, they could pull things to the surface... but that was insane! How would Cala even know about that?

Film editing for everyone else. Everyone else. The audience. Film editing? To make them see things, too?

I tried to distract myself after that. I didn't need to spend time thinking about all of that, it just wouldn't be practical for us. It wasn't going to help keep us alive. ... Or was it? Could the ghosts have been dangerous?

The thoughts kept coming back to me, even as I sorted through the supplies yet again. Eventually, I also gave up and found a semi-comfortable place in the cave to settle down in for the night. I'd make sure that we both ate something in the morning, but, for now, I couldn't make myself.

The storm started to fade out, letting me rest. I thought of what was going on back home in District Twelve--with my mother and York and everyone else--and for the first time, I really imagined what would've happened if I made it home. The thoughts were saddening, because I knew just how little chance there was of that actually occuring.

Still, the thought was nice...

Battle it Out (Night Two): Namitha Gol, District 10 Female Tribute

"Namitha!"

I whirled around to find Arsin pinning Callia back against a tree, a sword raised to her throat. I threw the knife in my hand, just hoping and wishing and praying that it would make him release his grip on my ally. When it hit, he dropped his sword, but Callia didn't have time to move, and--

Boom.

Her cannon fired.

"NO!" Newcomb was racing towards Arsin, his own weapon, what appeared to be an arrow that had missed its target, raised in the air. The District Four tribute was just starting to get back to his feet, and when Newcomb slammed the arrow into the back of his neck, he fell to the ground.

Boom.

Another cannon.

It was chaos--we'd woken in the middle of the night to Link shaking all of us. The Careers had ambushed our camp.

I ducked to avoid a knife thrown my way, but then raced to retrieve it from the ground, keeping my eyes trained on the space behind me as well as I could.

Then, there was a high-pitched scream from somewhere behind me, one of the Career girls, maybe, and I found that Link and Newcomb had ganged up on one of the other Career boys, using weapons stolen from the pack of wild tributes that had descended on us to stab him in the back.

Boom.

Come on, Namitha! Function! I screamed at myself mentally. Don't let someone else die!

I raised my knife and aimed it blindly at the girl from One, but it missed by a pathetic amount.

Boom.

Who's cannon was that?!

When I managed to focus my eyes again, Link was lying face-down on the ground, a sword lodged horizontally across his back. "Link!" I cried, racing towards him, even though I knew it was too late, that cannon had to be his because Newcomb was still fighting--

I pulled the sword out of Link to find it dripping with his blood. Oh, great Panem, why, why, why...

"Namitha!"

Welcome to the Games.

I raised the sword, finding it heavier than I expected it to be, and held it up as best I could while I went looking in the chaos for Newcomb. Then I found him--blood leaking from several

gashes on his upper body, trying to get back up to his feet while several of the remaining Careers surrounded him, starting to close in.

I launched myself just in between two of the Careers, yanking him to his feet by both of his wrists. He cried out in pain, and I flinched--that might not have been the best way to get him moving--but we both missed being hit by some of the weapons launched at us.

I gave Newcomb a good shove away from the group of tributes before turning around and slashing at the nearest Career with the sword. It hit someone, but didn't kill them, and I nearly lost my balance when the weapon came swinging back around.

I ducked again to avoid an arrow shot at me, but not in time; it just grazed my right arm. A thin stream of blood came from the cut that I was really having a hard time ignoring--

Tara's blood on the dining room wall.

I slashed my sword out again, losing my grip on it as it went flying, this time just missing the girl from Four, Ionia, just because she was about to launch a knife--

"NO!"

Too late--boom.

"NEWCOMB!"

I started to race towards him, but then forced myself to not stop, to keep going and running and running and running. I had to get out of there--there was nobody, nothing left to protect, no reason to stay...

I ran, the night air suddenly seeming colder while tears ran down my face. Everyone. Everyone was gone, they were dead, they were all dead! Dead, dead, dead--why did they all have to die?

They were kids, they were all kids, oh, who was I kidding, we were all kids!

The Alliance of the Mockingjays.

Run, run, run!

I couldn't hear the Careers chasing me but I had to keep going. Everything hurt, each breath sent fresh waves of pain over me, the mark of the arrow that had almost killed me ached more intensely.

I was blinded by the salt-water tears, lost in all of the confusion; I had no idea where I was going; why didn't I just give up now?

Keep on going...

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

Nellie had understood sacrifice before the rest of us, maybe. Oh, why were all of these things coming back to me...?

"Namitha, slow down! You're going to get yourself killed!"

My dad telling me to take it easy when I first rode a horse. Maybe now was the time to listen to that advice before I did something stupid.

I made myself come to a stop, breathing hard. There were no signs of anyone pursuing me, and I could see that I was somewhere on the path that we had first taken up the mountain.

No, not we. It's just me now.

I was alone. No supplies. Injured. In the dead of night. Most likely with the Careers coming after me, even though I wasn't trying to move.

Breathe. I took deep breaths; in, out, in, out. Relax.

Relax?! How could I relax?!

Slowly, slowly, I forced myself to calm down. I could find new supplies in the morning. It wouldn't be the middle of the night forever. There was no sign that I'd been pursued for long. I reached down and tore off a piece of loose fabric on my dress, then wrapped it around the cut on my arm, securing it with the elastic I'd formerly used to keep my hair back.

But... being alone. That problem I could find no solution for. Would I ever?

Losses and Hope (Night Two): Samantha Caim, District 2 Female Tribute

The bodies of Arsin, Marco, and three of the members of the alliance we'd just attacked were lying on the ground around us. "So... what now?" I asked.

Maybe it made me sound like a terrible ally, but I couldn't help but be glad that Arsin and Marco were... gone. They'd seemed like the most likely ones to possibly betray the alliance, and Arsin hadn't been all that great of a leader, at least, to me. Yet, without them, whether the others wanted to admit it or not, we were sort of lost.

"And now," Ionia said, her voice sounding oddly quiet and calm, "we go back to our camp."

The others seemed to be agreeing, so I guessed that that meant our next "leader" was also going to be a District Four tribute. She might not have been the strongest out of all of us, but she did seem to be pretty smart.

"Shouldn't we go after the Ten girl?" Chenille asked.

"I don't see anyone here moving," Fabian put in. "She'll be too far gone by now."

"Go through the supplies, then?"

"Fine," Ionia said, addressing Chenille. "We'll see if they had anything worthwhile."

We'd already gathered up most of the weapons, but we went over to what seemed to be the main camp of the other alliance. There, the first thing I saw was a small collection of something weaved out of grass. Further examination showed it to be someone's attempt at making a water bottle, but not a bad one, at that.

I decided to just leave those where they were--we had enough water already.

"Hey, Ionia!" Fabian called. "We got any use for edible plants?"

"No." The answer wasn't from Ionia, but Chenille, again. "We've got plenty of food."

"Take them," Ionia instructed, moving closer to the rest of us. "You never know."

Going through the rest of the supplies, we also took a vile of iodine, a sleeping bag, a pot of soup, and some rope. Ionia insisted that spare supplies were never a bad thing, but as the person who got stuck lugging the sleeping bag all the way back across the arena, I begged to differ.

Once we got back and settled in again, Ionia said, "I... I think that tomorrow, we should try to find the object in this section."

Well, someone was fitting into the "leader" role pretty well.

"Cool by me," Fabian said, speaking up first.

"Same," I said, and Chenille nodded.

"Good," Ionia said. "I did have one more idea for tonight, though. I thought I saw an area of the arena that was empty, and I want to check it out."

"Now?" Chenille asked.

Ionia nodded. "I can go alone, if you all want to stay here. But I do want to see it tonight."

"I'll go with you," I offered, mostly because I didn't want to stay back at camp without someone who would keep things in order there.

"Great. Anyone else?"

That left the pair from One. I couldn't say that I completely trusted them, but then again, I didn't completely "trust" anyone! Still, they were under more suspicion than most, going off on their own the other night... Was it really such a good idea to leave them both here?

"I'm taking that as a no," I said. Then I thought of something. "Should we take some supplies with us, just in case?" Mostly, I said that not because I thought we might get stuck somewhere, but because I didn't want the District One pair grabbing everything and taking off.

"Good idea," Ionia said, seeming to follow what I was thinking. She walked over to where most of our supplies were stored and grabbed both of our backpacks, throwing the supplies we'd gotten from earlier closer to the tent. "We'll be back by sunrise," she said, talking to the other two. "Make sure nothing goes wrong."

She seemed to act pretty differently as the one in charge, but I couldn't say that was a bad thing. She had more sense than Arsin ever did.

Gesturing with one hand, she started to lead the way back to the Cornucopia area.

"Do you know where we're going?" I asked. "Or, how to get there, I mean?"

Ionia nodded again, but didn't say anything.

We took a shortcut through the "maze" surrounding the Cornucopia, then through the area where the tribute plates were, and finally out another exit to a point where we were standing just on the back edge of a sandy beach.

"I knew it," Ionia muttered to herself, though she sounded pleased.

I started to walk forwards a bit, but then I saw Ionia shake her head. "Wait," she said, her voice lowered. She took off her backpack and pulled out the condensed flotation device that Arsin had stuck in all of our bags. Expertly activating the device, it was ready to use. But that didn't make sense... Ionia could swim; she'd taught us all how to during training.

She pulled out a long length of rope and tied it around the raft, holding on to it, then threw it like a frisbee into the water and watched it for a few seconds.

"What was that for?" I asked, also keeping my voice low.

"Seeing if the water was acid or if there were mutts," Ionia answered. "Guess not."

She pulled the raft back to us using the rope. "Freshwater, too," she commented after a bit of examination.

"Why'd you want to see this area?"

"Because if there's no one else here, which there sure doesn't seem to be, than the object is practically ours. It'll be easier to find later, in daylight, though."

"You sure no one else is here? They might just not want to attack the Careers," I pointed out.

Ionia shrugged. "No place to hide."

It was true, after all.

"Let's go back to camp."

Darkness, Books, and Dead Mockingjays (Day Three): Kizzy Ericssen, District 6 Female Tribute

These Games just kept getting better and better. It was clear by now that the Gamemakers wanted me to leave the caves--or, better yet, die somehow--so, of course, I'd decided to stay both in the caves and alive.

I hadn't seen any sign of the prairie dogs (or whatever they were) since the fight with Maine. No sign of a fellow tribute, either.

Still, the Gamemakers wanted me to leave, but they were either too stupid, lazy, or unwilling to force me to. They took a pretty good shot at it, though. The lights wouldn't come

on this morning, no matter what I tried. So I had to stick close to the main entrance of the caves, which was now my only source of light, excepting the flashlight.

And it was dead cold in those things!

The Games were driving me to whining. Great.

At least I had a plan by now: I was going to ambush the Careers. No, not be so stupid as to actually attack them, but rather, steal the object that they surely had from them. They had to have one by now, right?

I wasn't sure where they'd be camped, but my guess was that being discreet wasn't exactly their specialty, so it shouldn't have been too hard to find. I'd go tonight, I decided, when they'd probably be out hunting. And if they weren't, I'd get out before they found me.

And after that... after that... I might've tried coming back to the caves, unless I found somewhere better. They seemed to be the safest place I could find, but my food would run out eventually and I'd be forced out by that, unless the Gamemakers really came up with anything threatening first.

For the day, though, I didn't feel quite right just sitting around. My supplies were running out fairly quickly. Did I really not have any sponsors by now? Did they still only see my training score and not anything else?

I mean, come on! With all the cannons I'd heard last night, I was in the final nine tributes of the Games. I took down two of the stronger tributes in the arena already, and I'd been looking out for myself the whole while! Not to mention, I'd managed to sneak a weapon into the arena! Were these people complete idiots?!

Yes.

Fine, so I'd have to venture out of the caves for a while.

But where to go? Being in this section of the arena had brought me no knowledge of any other section. Today would be a good time to come out--with all those cannons going off, we had to have some more time before the Gamemakers would interfere and make things more interesting.

I headed towards the light flowing in through the entrance to the cave system.

When I walked out of the cave, I could practically feel the light and warmth of the sun. There're two things you won't find so easily in a cave.

Then I realized that to get out of there, I'd need to climb back up (and, later, back down) the rock wall/cliff leading into this section. What fun. Especially considering that this trip might not have even turned out to be worthwhile.

Still, I managed to climb it much more easily than I did the first time, even though I was definitely more tired than I'd been afterwards on day one. It was probably just all that wandering around the caves finally catching up to me.

A bit to my right, there was what seemed to be a rainforest, and to my left, a small lake and waterfall, with thick woods and a meadow just behind it. I could see what must've been the Careers' camp set up nearby.

I started to sprint in the other direction. You coward, I chided myself. You'll be running straight into that tonight.

The rainforest was just a more promising source of food, I decided. That was why I ran.

Yeah. Right.

I really wasn't all that far into the arena section when I heard the tune to a familiar song overhead. The anthem, I realized.

It was coming from a small black-and-white bird overhead. A mockingjay. It wasn't like I hadn't seen one before. They're fairly common, even in District Six.

The bird sang out the final few notes of its song, and then it dropped dead at my feet.

Great.

Carefully, I stepped around the bird and continued into the forest, leaving it where it was. I didn't have that much use for it, except maybe eating it, and I wasn't that desperate yet. I'd prefer something that probably wouldn't give me food poisoning from raw meat, thank you very much.

Still, I couldn't shake the image of the small, dead animal lying in the grass. The last melody it sang--an oath to our country. Did this have something to do with the objects? With District Fourteen? Was that really just a joke, a lie, something to mess with all of our heads?

Or was it a real threat? Something that could hurt us even here, in the arena, which seemed so separated from the outside world.

I shook my head to get the picture out. Maybe it was a good thing that there was only darkness in the caves when I fought with Maine, after all.

Just something else to ignore. You only get one wish in the arena, and for me, District Fourteen wasn't a part of it.

What's Really Here (Day Three): Charity Reed, District 8 Female Tribute

Section number four proved to be interesting. When you walked into it, it seemed to be a beach--complete with crystallized white sand and a clear blue sea that I couldn't see the end of. (Though that might've just been the force field). But, then, I was walking just along the edge of the slightly-too-uniform waves, and I spotted it. Hard to see at a distance, there was a small, circular gap in the sand, just a few feet wide in any direction. The edges seemed to be made of glass, though I suspected that it had to be the practically shatterproof kind.

To test where it went, I grabbed a few rocks from the edge of the rainforest section and threw them out into the water, not too far. I could hear the thuds from most of them hitting something just below the surface of the water. Or was I just going insane?

I decided to take a chance at that point. I was Charity Reed! I'd been able to make it to day three (well, night two, then), and I'd worked up the courage to betray my alliance. I'd taken on the Careers and lived to tell the tale. How many people could say that? I tried to sort of climb down into the sand, but the glass proved too slippery for me, and I fell to the bottom, blanket-bag in hand.

I had room to stand up, so I did so and looked out at the space in front of me. Clear blue water all around, except for what appeared to be a vast series of tunnels spread out just under the surface. Tunnels! Perfect.

I started to walk a bit further into the tunnel system, but the thing was, once I was actually under water, I couldn't see the glass edges. I could only see where there was water, and where there wasn't. Weird.

Now it'd been hours since I'd first dropped into the entrance.

It occurred to me then that, whether I was pushing all of my fear aside or not, there was no clear way out of these things, since there was no hope of climbing back up the entrance drop. If I could even find it! I'd taken so many turns, hit so many dead ends, gone back around so many times, I couldn't have gone back if I'd wanted to. Great. Maybe if I just kept going I'd find one.

And maybe the next object, too.

Crack.

"Ow! What the--” I’d just run into the glass. Another dead end. It was then that the word occurred to me. Maze. This was a maze. Not one like the lame circle-thing surrounding the Cornucopia, but the sort of thing that people could get lost for hours in. Or days. Or die in.

Kildaire would've been great at this. Maybe she was good-for-something after all.

I turned around, but then realized that I didn't know how far back this thing started. So I just took the first turn I saw, and even that was a long ways back. Paying attention didn't help much when you were in a place that was mostly invisible.

Eventually, I think it'd been light out for a while by then, and I was seriously starting to feel tired, I spotted a place that looked like somewhere that all of the tunnels combined at.

Naturally, I raced forwards into it. That seemed like a great place to put the object. Then I stopped--not just stopped, but dead froze. I heard something shifting, something clicking into place. Oh, no; no, no, no...

Large, perfectly fitting pieces of glass had just sealed every last way out of here. The Gamemakers were going to drown me, I knew it. This thing was going to open up, and I'd be

trapped, suffocating and gasping in air, but only getting water... oh, no, please, no, great Panem, no, no, no...

Don't let me die. Not yet.

The last thing I'd ever see would be water closing in on me.

I closed my eyes and started sucking in air as fast as I could. Not this, anything but this... hand me over to the Careers, but not this...

Wham!

I screamed as I was thrown off of my feet, hurled through the air until I hit the side of this big glass sphere. I landed back on the ground again, suddenly unable to get back up, all of the air knocked out of my lungs. No water was flowing in, but I was... spinning?

Or was the room spinning?

No, it was me.

But I was lying down.

What?

On and on it went, whatever was moving, and I was just starting to feel sick. Really sick.

No water yet. I wasn't drowning.

Eventually, I got the thought through my head that I wasn't going to. The spinning and turning all came to a halt, so abruptly that I was sent sliding across the smooth, blissfully cool glass floor.

"Ungh." I forced myself to sit up, dizziness and a really bad headache greeting me. My breathing and heart rate were just a bit too fast, so I let myself fall back on to the ground, tears coming to my eyes. I couldn't do this. Maybe the drowning would've been better, after all; I'd never felt so just... awful in my life. I didn't even want to do this. I didn't want to be a part of these stupid, pointless Hunger Games.

Sit up, Charity. Get up!

Vaguely, I heard the glass pieces lift up again. I was free to leave--but who even knew if the tunnels that connected to here were the same anymore? I had no way to orient myself, nothing. What was I supposed to do? What was my goal? For right now?

I had to find the object. That was why I'd come in here in the first place.

I forced myself to look up. Wouldn't it still be in here if it was before?

Question answered: yes. There it was. Just a few inches from my feet. Well, that was easy. Sort of.

It was a motivation to sit up, at least. I picked up the delicate book and then reached to put it in my "bag"... but where was it? Oh, great, had I just lost all of my supplies? No, it had to be in here. I was holding it when the spinning started, that I was fairly sure of.

On the other side of this sphere, the blanket was lying, the previous contents spread out across the floor. Feeling a bit better, I set it up again, putting in the new book. I'd read both of them later, I decided. When I was replacing everything, I noticed something that I hadn't seen before. A sort of sewn-in bookmark had come out of the book, and there was a small... what looked like a whistle, attached to it. Also weird. The fabric and the instrument both looked a lot more new and modern than the book itself did.

Trying to replace it, I finally found several blank pages in the back that were carved out so that the whistle could fit neatly inside. I tucked it in and put the book with all of my other supplies.

Later, if and when I felt less sick, I'd eat and re-hydrate myself. I'd read the books. I'd get out of here, when I could really stand up properly.

But, for now, I was going to sleep.

Dead People, Dead Ghosts (Day Three): Caladium Velius, District 9 Female Tribute

Kane was here last night.

Kanton was here last night.

They were different.

But which was which?

Trackers. Ghosts. Gamemakers. Mind control? Lina. Tributes. Allies. Not real. Illusions. Caves. Dead. Not real. Voice. What?

Cala.

"Kane."

You have to get out of here. Go. NOW, genius.

"No."

"Cala. Are you awake? Sorry; silly question. Are you hungry?"

"What do you mean, Kane?"

"Cala. Cala. Cala! I said, are you hungry? Food; does that sound good?"

Something was being forced into my hand.

"What about water? You have to be thirsty... I just found some this morning."

"I DON'T HAVE TO BE ANYTHING!"

"Shh... all right. Just an assumption..."

Get out of here, Cal'. Don't take it.

"Leave. How could I leave?"

"No, you don't have to leave, Cala." Someone said that quietly. "Just stay here. Eat something; it'll make you feel better. You're holding food right now."

Don't do it, Cala.

I looked down at the little package of food in my hand and ate some of it. It tasted okay. Not dangerous. Was Kane dangerous?

Nope. Wait, let me check again... ah, still no.

Was Lina? Lina... the word was somewhere in my head that I couldn't quite get to. Like the place that would let me leave here. Where was I going? Was I going anywhere at all?

"Cala, just relax... there you go, go on and eat... that's good..."

I kept eating. I'd run later. Run. Move. Away.

No. NOW. Run NOW, Cal'. Don't let her kill you.

"SHE ISN'T TRYING TO KILL ME!" I screamed at Kane.

"Right. I won't hurt you."

I saw light. Light was good. It was coming from outside. Kane said I needed to go there. Wasn't light bad when you died? What? What was death? Who? Kane?

Oh, great, now I'm "death", too. Death to the psychotic ones!

Psychotic...? That sounded familiar.

Familiar: home, parents, Kane, Lina, cave, ally, Ondrew, Games, books, death, ghosts, Tariya, District Nine, school, volunteers, help, insane.

Not familiar... everything.

Pfft. Hypocrite.

"What?"

"You still hungry, Cala? There's more food..."

"Huh?"

Guess you could eat. Didn't kill ya' last time, did it? But then LEAVE.

"Don't leave."

"Of course not. I'm right here. No reason to leave."

"No reason to leave," I echoed.

"Right."

LEAVE.

What? Lev? Lave? Lee? Love?

Wait... what was that? Love; what? What was that? Home, parents, Kane, ghost, Kanton, Lina, Ondrew, ally, dead, alive, fight, kill, blood, don't, leave, no, Kane, voice, no.

"Cala. You... okay?"

"No, Kane."

"Cala! Cala!"

Darkness.

"Cala... wake up... please, please, wake up... please... wake up..."

"Neh."

Oh, great, you're alive. Wonder what brought this new phase on.

"Cala!" Something wrapped around me tightly. "Thought I lost you for a few hours, there."

"No."

LEAVE. NOW.

"She didn't kill me, Kane. Didn't kill."

Don't care. GO.

"Here, Cala, you need some water..."

"Don't need anything. Fine. Or anyone."

Something cold being pressed into my hand again. But the last thing wasn't cold. I didn't think. "Here. It's our first sponsor--sent more water for us. We didn't have a lot..."

Out of pity.

I drank it. It felt good. Cold, like ice. Snow. Rain. Weather. Cold. Ice. Water. I drank more.

"There you go," someone said. "Here--" something else got handed to me "--finish... breakfast. It'll help with the dizziness."

How did she know I was dizzy? Could she read my mind? Like Kane? Like the Gamemakers and Tariya and my parents?

I ate.

"Do you know why you blacked out? You were probably just thirsty. We should have a good supply of water, now, though..."

I saw a note on the ground. It was by Lina. It was on a piece of paper in black ink. It was by the water.

It said, Ditch the schizophrenic.

That sounded like a bad thing. "W-what is that?"

"What? Oh, that." She reached for the note. "Nothing."

Had I read it? Could I even read? What did it say, again? Nothing, that's what Lina said. Why would someone send a piece of paper with "nothing" written on it?

It said, "Ditch the schizophrenic". That's you, miss forgetful. That's why you should LEAVE.

"No."

"No, really, Cala, it's nothing important... nothing to worry about... here, why don't you lie down and sleep for a bit?"

I did. Sleep.

Lina didn't answer me. Was she even Lina? Who?

Cal'. Leave. Now. Before you black out again.

Everything turned red. Red like blood. Red like... like... something. Red, red, red, red, red. Red. Why?

I closed my eyes against it.

"See, there you go--"

"Can't see. CAN'T SEE! WHY CAN'T I SEE?!" Panic. No control. Panic. Attack.

"You have your eyes closed. Just open them. You can still see; it's all right..."

I think my eyes opened, but I didn't know how. But I could see. That was good.

"Just close them again." I felt someone pushing me back against the ground. "Go to sleep... just get some rest..."

My eyes closed again. More darkness. NO. DARK. BAD THING.

"Kane..."

No! Don't sleep! Go! Now! GO!

"Kane... Lina... Ondrew..."

"Shh, just sleep..."

CALA! GO! NOW! LEAVE; GET OUT OF HERE!

Sleep, sleep was good, sleep isn't dizzy, sleep is dark, dark isn't good, sleep is good, though... sleep is good...

"Cala."

"Wha...?"

"It'll be night soon. Did you hear that? Night soon."

"Night soon. What's that?"

"I mean that soon the anthem'll be on. Didn't want it to wake you."

"Anthem. Anthem... the anthem!"

"What? Cala?"

"The anthem."

Don't Let the Games Begin (Day Three): Namitha Gol, District 10 Female Tribute

Link, lying facedown on the ground.

Newcomb, fighting 'till the end.

Callia, impaled by Arsin's sword.

Tara, dead on the dining room floor, her blood forming words on the wall.

Nellie, trying to volunteer for me at the Reaping.

Kayla, Ryan, mom and dad back in District Ten, surely glued to the screen, watching the Games.

It was all the stuff of nightmares.

"Namitha!"

I hadn't killed anyone last night. I was one of the only people who'd gotten out without being a murderer. But I practically was. What if I'd taken watch? I could've gotten all of them out in time. The Careers wouldn't have killed any of us, and we wouldn't have killed any of them.

I didn't kill anyone.

I didn't kill anyone.

But I'm still a murderer.

I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, slowly. I'd fallen asleep on the path that winded up and around the mountainside. Good; at least I'd have some amount of sleep behind me for today. It was clearly later in the morning. I had to get moving at some point, so I forced myself upright.

The best place to go would've been our old camp. But I couldn't go back. I just wasn't going to do it.

Then there was the shelter we'd found on the first day of the Games. That was no good either; Tara's ghost was probably still there.

I needed supplies; food and water and something for the gash on my arm would be great. Heading back up the path--that would be best. Get some distance between here and where the Careers would be looking for me. If they were. Maybe they had something better to do than to track down me.

I vaguely wondered if it would be possible to find the horses again. I doubted it, especially with my current luck-streak.

"But that doesn't mean you should die!"

"I never said anything about dying! Who said that I'm going to die?"

"Common sense!"

I remembered, talking to Nellie after the Reaping. Well, arguing, mostly. After she'd tried to save my life.

But, now, when I'd tried to do the same thing for Link and Newcomb and Callia and failed so awfully at it... things were different. I'd said that the Games weren't going to change

me. Maybe then I meant that I was going to stay a vegetarian, but, now, I think I knew the rest of what I'd been saying.

... I was why Newcomb died. And Callia. And Link.

I was why they were dead.

Why wasn't I dead? What crazy force had decided that I would be the one to live? Why me? I hadn't done anything heroic in my life. That was Newcomb, trying to save Callia. That was Nellie, trying to volunteer for me. That was Link, helping to bring down one of the Careers that was trying to kill us.

That... wasn't me.

I headed up the mountain path, blocking it all out. What did it matter, now? What did it matter? No one else could die because of me. Kayla and Ryan and my family were safe in District Ten. Tara and all of my allies were dead. I had no one left to hurt or get killed. And that was fine by me.

At one point, I was sick of going in circles around this mountain. I was getting nowhere. So I headed off the path and into the woods.

It actually wasn't too long before I found the pond, a really small one, only about ten feet on both sides, but, a pond just the same.

I sat down on the ground right by it and took off the hair-elastic/fabric piece duo that I'd used to cover up my main injury. I ran the elastic through the water, just to clean the blood off of it, really, then just put it on my wrist like a bracelet so that I wouldn't be setting it down in mud. Then the piece of fabric--through the water; I rung it out a bit.

Leaning over just enough to dip the cut into the water, I sighed slightly in relief as it eliminated some of the immediate pain, then put the makeshift bandage back on it. A little bit at a time, I splashed the water on my skin, never getting all the way in, washing away the dirt and blood from the time in the arena.

I soaked my hair in the water, which made it infinitely more manageable, and tucked it back so I could put the top hat, beads, and boa combo from my friends back on my head. I ran my hand over the feathers on it and sighed. It was easy to miss people, here in the arena.

Especially the ones that are dead.

What I really needed, now, was a way to collect some of this water, and a way to clean it. It seemed pretty clear, so I doubted that it'd make me sick, but, hey, you could never be too paranoid.

Yet you trusted them, and you don't deny it.

In the end, I decided to just stay there. Drinking the water didn't kill me, and I could just scoop it up with my hands. I'd sleep in the trees tonight if that was what it came to. But why leave?

Still, I'd need food. We'd--no, Namitha, there's no "we" now, it's just you--gotten a sponsor gift yesterday, and a note from Alya, telling us to stay where we were. From here, I didn't even know if I could've tracked down our old camp. I didn't want to. Would I be close enough to it that I'd technically followed the instruction?

Time would tell.

Dare or Die (Day Three): Chenille Anders, District 1 Female Tribute

Ionia was clearly in charge and loving it. Even after everything last night, she'd had everyone up before the dawn, and we were ready to set out and find the object before sunrise. Least she was more effective than Arsin ever was. If it was up to me, though, I would've been out of there by then. It was down to the final nine. One more dead and two-thirds of the tributes would be dead. That was when the Careers split. End of story.

But something made me stay. Part of it was that I'd become an instant target for what remained of the pack. Who else was there that we had to worry about, really? The girls from Eight and Ten, maybe; the ones that had gotten out of some of our previous attacks alive. Other than them, no one really mattered.

The other thing that made me stay was the "safety" of being in an alliance. The supplies, the plans, the extra hours of sleep, (which we apparently weren't going to be getting much of under Ionia's reign). I didn't trust the others, though. Maybe Fabian, but that was it. Even he was a bit too determined to get home for my liking. Too ready to off the rest of us.

Still, I wasn't planning on being here for too long. Tonight, maybe, I'd fill up my bag with supplies, ask Fabian if he wanted to go with me, and run, no matter what the answer was.

I'd take the object we found today with me, and then track down all the others.

"Let's see what's closer to the waterfall," Ionia announced. "And unless this takes too long, we'll move to the beach area tonight."

I didn't have any objections. I'd run before then, somehow.

We started to head on over towards the lake, making our way up the shore to the fall. It really didn't seem so impressive up close. Not too much water running into the lake.

"You have to climb it," Samantha said.

"What?" That was my first reaction. Climb? Climb what? Had she not noted my failure in training?

"The waterfall," she elaborated. "Come over here and you'll see."

Me, Fabian, and Ionia walked over closer to where she was, and then I saw it. The water fall was really sort of in the shape of a rectangular prism, and on the side to the right of the lake and falls, there was a cliff-face with lots of ledges and what looked like really narrow caves or something.

I didn't want to sound like a whiner, but there was just no way in Panem that I'd make it all the way up that thing without breaking my neck. But, of course, about three-quarters of the way up, was the book, perched on a boulder in very clear sight. Huh. Felt sort of stupid for not noticing that one before, though I guessed that we hadn't really been over here.

"Guess there's only one way to get up there," Ionia commented.

I looked over at Fabian, but he didn't seem to care about having to climb the side of a cliff. That left me.

"Why don't we just let Samantha go up? She's the expert," I said, trying to not sound shaky and nervous like the stereotypical youngest member of the group.

"Not unprotected," Ionia said. "Going up alone? That doesn't sound too good..."

"I'd be fine," Samantha put in.

"I'm with Ionia." That was Fabian, definitely. "I say we all go."

"B-but, we can't just climb. What if we drop off, or--" I cut myself off there. Shut up, Chenille. I sighed. "Never mind."

Samantha pulled a long length of rope out of her bag. "I'll go first," she offered. "Set up a good path." For a few seconds, she examined the cliff-face, then picked a spot and started to climb up, practically jumping from ledge to ledge. I tried to watch her, see what she was doing that I couldn't, but soon she was nearly out of a good sight range.

The other end of the rope dropped at our feet. I assumed that the other end was attached to something up where Samantha was. "Use it to help yourself climb up!" she called back. "But this is as far as it'll go!" She only seemed to be about a quarter-way to the object.

"You next, Chenille," Fabian said, smirking at my obvious fear.

I glared at him and scowled. "Fine." I walked up to the rock and grabbed a hold of the rope, using it to help pull myself up to the first ledge, a fairly low one. But when my weight hit my feet again, I winced at the sudden increase of pain in my twisted ankle. "Ugh."

"Come on! You can do this!" Samantha called encouragingly.

Suddenly, my mind was back to the morning of the Reaping. I could remember the rain, my mom back on the ground, Laecia climbing in the tree next to mine...

My fingertips could just touch the next ledge to climb to. I tried to get as firm a grip as I could, my other hand on the rope, and started to pull myself up, planting my feet against the rock for balance.

It took a while, but I finally reached where Samantha was. Then the other two--Ionia and Fabian both somehow seemed to be better at it than I was. Not like Samantha, but none of us could climb like she could.

Once we got started, it was probably barely two hours before Samantha, being the first person to climb up to each new ledge, was reaching the place where the object rested. But then she looked at it, and called down to us, "Guys, I think I have some bad news!"

"Oh, great. What is it now?" I'd been the first to answer.

"The object's a decoy."

"How do you know?" Ionia asked, sounding calmer than anyone else did.

"It says so, right here on the cover! And it's hollowed out, except there's music inside of it!"

"Let's all climb up there and see what we can find out," Ionia suggested.

"Oh, yeah. We should totally wear ourselves out to look at a decoy," I said, but no one answered.

It took long enough for us to get up there, too. This proved to be the hardest stretch yet--not the longest, but the most difficult, with the most space in between the ledges and the most area of smooth rock surface.

When we were all up, Samantha gave Ionia the object. I could see that on the cover, it did say, clearly: "DECOY 2". "Figure there's a fake for every real one?" I asked.

"Maybe," Ionia answered; her voice was flat, and I figured that she wasn't really listening.

Fine. So let her doubt me. Let her be the one who makes the dumb mistake that gets her killed. And better yet, let Samantha be right behind her when she walks right into a trap.

Other than the gold-colored text, the book cover seemed to be made of dark-brown leather, and the pages seemed to be real. Old-looking, but real. Most of them were hollowed out on the inside, though, and there was a clean white page in the empty space--with music on it. Huh. What kind of message was that supposed to send us?

Ionia handed the book back to Samantha, but kept on looking at the music score. I could tell that after a few seconds, something seemed to click in her mind, and she adjusted her backpack on her shoulders. "Samantha--pull the rope up. No one stand too near the edge." She waited for the rope to be with us before she whistled a few notes.

Nothing happened.

"Could I see it?" I asked.

She shrugged and handed me the paper. I couldn't read music like Ionia, but I could read numbers, all right. And that was what was at the bottom of the page, written in black ink and circled. "16".

"Try whistling sixteen of those notes," I said, and handed her back the paper.

She did, without arguing, and again we waited, but this time, only for a few seconds. A huge piece of the rock right in front of us slid downwards into the ground of the ledge we were standing on, revealing the entrance to a dark cave.

Well, I guessed that I preferred a cave to having to climb any more.

Time to take charge, Chenille.

"Get the flashlights."

"We're going in there?" Samantha asked. The question wasn't directed at me, even though I'd been the one to talk last. She was looking at Ionia.

"Yeah," she said. "What could go wrong? We're already in the Hunger Games."

That was wrong for her, maybe. And for Samantha. But not for me and Fabian. We were here to win.

I pulled out my flashlight from my bag and turned it on. Ionia entered the cave first with her own flashlight, and the rest of us followed. "Well, that was easy," she said, walking a bit farther into the cave. The real object rested on the ground just in front of us. She picked up the book but seemed a bit unconcerned with it after a quick inspection. "What do you figure that is?" she asked.

"What?" I couldn't even see what she was pointing to. It just looked like another piece of rock to me. But I shifted my flashlight and saw that it was actually a fairly small, circular opening in the interior of this cave. I couldn't really see it leading anywhere, except maybe--not too sharply... down? "A... what, slide sort of thing?" I asked.

"Yeah," Ionia said, approaching it. "Looks like something they might've used during construction. Not really supposed to be part of the arena. It's too artificial for that, when you look at it up close."

"Eeek! Eeek!"

Oh, great. I knew that sound.

"Eeek!"

I spun around, and, sure enough, there it was. The bouncing mutt was back, and it was ready to try and kill us all.

"And through the tunnel we go!" I was pretty sure that that was Fabian.

"What?!"

"Just kill it!"

"Come on! Move!"

I dodged the mutt as it lunged at me. Ionia and Samantha were already through the little gap in the wall, and Fabian was close behind them. "Chenille!"

One of my knives missed the mutt, and it jumped at me again, just barely missing.

I ran after the others and followed suit in their escape method.

Soon, I was sliding quickly through a thin glass tube that ran right through all of the rock of the waterfall. But where did it end? Were we all just going to die anyways? I closed my eyes despite myself. At least my death wouldn't be at the hands of the bouncing mutt.

Then I was flying out the other end of the tunnel, landing roughly on the ground--more rock. Great.

I forced myself upright to join the others. "Still got the object," Ionia said.

"Let's get back to camp."

"How?"

We seemed to be in a small piece of a much larger cave system. Was this the section next to the lake?

Ionia looked around the area we were in. "An elevator, I think," she said. "Defnitely construction. I bet the slide was for the adventerous ones."

I looked at what she was referring to. "Looks more like a tribute plate to me. Sure it isn't going to explode on us?"

"Only one way to find out," Fabian put in.

One by one, we all took the "elevator" up to wherever it led. I was next to last, but when the plate stopped moving, I was standing on a piece of rock. In front of me was a huge drop off, and then more rock leading up to the Cornucopia. To my left? The lake.

Once we were all up, Ionia said, "Unless you guys feel like jumping off a cliff, I'm voting on swimming our way back."

"What, just jump in?" I asked.

"Maybe put our shoes in our bag?" Samantha suggested.

"How are we going to carry those, anyways?"

"They're too heavy to swim with; we'll sink like rocks," Fabian said.

Ionia shook her head at all the suggestions. "We could just wade along the edge and go around, right, right?" she asked.

"Unless it drops off right away," I said. "But I doubt that."

"Let's try it." We still took off our shoes and socks like Samantha had said and carried them. No sense in soaking them through.

Ionia led the way just along the edge of the lake, which was shallow enough to walk in, until we reached shore again, where we just walked around to our camp.

"Let's all get some more sleep, for now," Ionia said. "We'll move out later."

A Life of Words (Night Three): Kizzy Ericssen, District 6 Female Tribute

My search for food and water hadn't gone too terribly. There was a small waterfall in the rainforest that I'd used to fill up my water bottle and canteen--not that I had a guarentee that the water was even drinkable. But it'd been a while since I could remember hearing about the Gamemakers poisoning the water in an arena. Too boring a death for their liking.

Food was also easy to find. At this rate, I was going to be eating better than I had since the epidemic. There were some small berries growing on a tree that I recognized from seeing in District Six. Cashews were growing not too far from there, so I threw a collection of both on top of my tarp and tied it up.

There. Rainforest expedition complete.

Now on to the important things.

The Gamemakers certainly did have us all brainwashed into playing along with their Games. "Keep yourself alive at all costs, find the five objects, kill the other tributes." It wasn't a

direct quote, but the message was just as clear. Even I was getting sucked into it. But I wasn't about playing by the Gamemakers' rules. Would I give winning my best shot? Sure. That was the only reason that I cared about the objects, the only reason I let them turn me into a killer.

I wasn't the type of person allowed to leave the arena, but I'd never been one for rules or odds.

For a while I thought of my next move. Go back to the caves? No, too much climbing. I'd do that after I had the object from the Careers. Go for the object now? No, it was too early. I had to wait until they'd be out hunting, or sleeping. Stay here? It was too... open. Make camp somewhere safer, then?

I was starting to get a bit attached to the thought of staying here in the rainforest. Clean air, light, food, water, and few dangers that I could see. Bit of an unstable climate, but every place had its quirks. I was only even staying in the caves to annoy the Gamemakers, anyways, and I was pretty sure that I'd succeeded in that. Fine. I'd stay here.

I swore that the second the thought entered my head, it started to rain. Within seconds it was pouring. "You guys just never give up, do you?" I asked, directing the question up at the sky, as if the Gamemakers were looking down on us all. "I bet your the 'impossibly to please' type. All of you."

For a few more seconds I waited for them to unleash some sort of sick mutt on me, but, alas, none appeared. Wonderful.

With that, I plunked myself down on the ground in an area that was mostly surrounded by palm trees. The leaves overhead kept it drier than a lot of places, and there was more concealment than I could find just about anywhere else in the section.

I pulled out my loaf of bread and cut off a section of it with my knife, then forced myself to eat slowly, also taking out some of the cashews. Not a bad meal. When that was gone, I took a few sips of water and replaced all of my supplies in my bag. It would be time for the anthem soon.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the anthem started up.

There were a lot of deaths--first up, the boy from District Two. That was one Career out of the picture. Good. Then the pair from Three. I didn't remember a lot about them. The boy from Four. Another Career. And it looked to me like maybe two of the stronger ones, at that. Well, it was my lucky day, wasn't it? Then the boys from Seven and Eight. I remembered the one from Eight looking like a potential threat, as well. Three major opponents gone, and three others, as well.

There was a final flourish of music, and then the seal disappeared from the sky.

It was now or never.

I put my pack back on--just in case I needed to make a quick escape from the Careers' camp--and headed towards the place that I'd seen them set up at earlier.

It wasn't a long walk there, and I didn't see any sign of them. Their tent door was closed, though. Either way, no one was here to see me. I kept to the darker parts of the area, anyways, just in case. But where would they keep the object?

Dread washed over me. What if it was in the tent? There was no way in Panem I was going in there until I could guarantee that they were no where near here.

But, no, there it was: sitting between two bags as part of a stack of supplies. Don't try anything stupid, Kizzy. Just get the book and get out.

It took every bit of self-control I had to not sprint for it and then run all the way back to my little area of the rainforest. That would be too noisy. Instead I crept up to the pile very quietly, and grabbed the book. Carefully, carefully, I made my way away from the camp. But the second I thought I was out of hearing range, I was sprinting for it.

I reached the place that I'd been settled before by the little clump of trees and let myself sit on the ground again. I'd done it. I had the book.

Well, that was quite the adrenaline rush.

I pulled my sleeping bag out, setting it up on the ground and climbing into it. I put my knife just next to me--right within my reach, next to my backpack.

Supplies, two of the objects, a good place to sleep. Maybe I could make it out of the arena, after all.

Not Following (Night Three): Charity Reed, District 8 Female Tribute

I must've been out of it for a while, because when I woke up again, it was to the sound of the anthem blasting overhead. I actually hadn't thought about how I would see the faces up in the sky from underwater, but the Capitol seal was projected on to the top of this glass bubble thing.

First up was the boy from Two, both from District Three, the boys from Four and Seven. Well, well, well, there must've been some major battle that I'd missed out on. Or maybe two different ones--if the Careers finally split and those were the fatalities, and then there was a different fight between Seven and Three?

One last person up in the sky--Kyler. Of course. Then the seal again, and the anthem ended.

Had it really been a full day since I'd killed him? Yeah, it had to have been just one day...

Well, I'd come a long way, then.

I pulled out the book that I'd found today. Nothing too special about it. I started reading, but within just a few minutes, I was lost. It did say "4" on the cover, so maybe the other three in the arena came before this one and I was missing something.

But this book made no sense to me. I was getting the sense, just from what it mentioned about technology and the lack of Hunger Games and such, that it was set during the Dark Days. That much made sense to me. But it kept talking about the Capitol and "District Fourteen". What was that?

I mentally tried to pull up everything I knew about the war. Not much, I realized. And not a lot of specifics, certainly. Huh. Weird. How had I never noticed that before?

I got through a few more pages before realizing that the... style, of most of the writing... it sounded something like a textbook--like something official. Also strange. Except that there weren't any explanations, no definitions or diagrams or maps that made sense to me. It did read like a book, though; there weren't "review questions" at the end of sections or anything like that. Nothing in the margins with activities or assignments.

Listen to yourself. This isn't school anymore.

I was not seeing how any of this was going to help me win the Hunger Games. It looked like something that would be confusing and therefore could only get in my way.

I put it back in my blanket-bag, and decided that I needed a new plan. This section would be of no use to me anymore. It wasn't like it was a particularly great part of the arena--not really safe, bound to collapse at somepoint; it didn't have any resources to speak of. I had the object.

In my mind, that meant that it was time to move out.

But then I remembered what I'd been thinking about earlier, about how I couldn't get out through any way that I'd seen. Heading in the direction that I'd come from seemed like a good idea to me. That would get me closer to the beach, which had to be more promising than heading closer and closer to the end of this tunnel system.

Which tunnel would get me back there, though? After all that spinning, I didn't know which way was which. Think, Charity, think!

I took a deep breath. Okay, when I'd gone into the tunnel system, it was dark, but earlier on in the night. So the moon would've been towards the east, and I couldn't remember seeing it out over the water. So I needed to head east, towards the moon--that would get me to go closer to the shore, right?

My view was fragmented, but I could see the general direction of where the moon was. I picked the tunnel closest to that direction and headed out.

I felt better once I knew where I was going.

As I walked, I pulled out one of the bananas that I'd collected in the rainforest to eat while I travelled. It was then I realized how little food I had. All the more reason to get out of here.

About an hour later, I heard the voices.

No, don't think I was going crazy. Maybe I should've said that... I don't even know. Bad wording.

"Cala, see, the ghost's not here. It's okay."

"Kane said we should leave."

"I'm sure he did." The footsteps stopped. "Shh--wait."

I slowly drew out my sword and moved towards the source of the sounds. It was just around the corner of the tunnel I was in. And there they were. The girls from two other districts.

Wait, I'd heard something about a "Kane". Did they have someone else guarding them? I didn't see anyone with them.

They were getting closer to where I was. Oh, great Panem.

Breathe.

Wasn't "Cala" the crazy one?

I was pressing myself back against the glass. Should I attack them first? I would have the element of surprise. But would they ally with me, maybe? It would be easier to kill them in their sleep...

It was the younger-seeming one that turned the corner first, and I vaguely heard her scream.

Before I could even look around to make sure that there weren't some mutts closing in that had freaked her out, the other girl was standing beside her, clearly terrified but holding up something that looked sharp.

I don't want to ally up with them. Too much risk.

Instead, I lunged forwards, sword in hand.

Follow the Fish (Night Three): Carolina Rowan, District 12 Female Tribute

Today hadn't brought us any luck, unless you counted the sponsor-gift of water this morning.

A bit after the anthem, a bunch of practically rabid bats had flown out from the back of our cave. The Gamemakers weren't going to let us keep on hiding.

With some effort, I'd managed to grab our supplies and get Cala and I out of there alive. We'd been running through the woods for quite a while before I'd seen the beach just across a bit of empty land. We'd gone right for it, and then seen the drop-off in the sand.

Maybe coming down in to these tubes wasn't my best decision, but when it's that or get eaten alive by bats, you don't really have a lot of time to think.

Now, though, I wondered if I would've found another place to run.

We were face to face with the girl from District Eight; and she had a sword while we had only a spearhead between the two of us.

Eight lunged right for us, but we both jumped right out of the way in time. This caught her off balance, and she hit the bottom of the glass with a thud, her sword flying out of her grip.

It was Cala, not me, who'd ran to get the weapon before the other girl could retrieve it again. By then she was on her feet, and I was ready to throw the spearhead, but Cala came back up behind her and lodged the blade of the sword in her back.

Boom.

And that was that.

I stared at Cala. Was she coming for me next? Could I have even killed her if I wanted to? No, she wasn't picking up the weapon again. Cala actually started to wander off after that.

I realized that my hands were shaking, even though I wasn't the one who'd made the kill. Cala seemed unconcerned, looking up at some of the colorful fish that were swimming in the water around us, like we were in an aquarium or something.

I retrieved the sword, slick with the girl from Eight's blood, and the blanket that she'd had with her. The knot in it came undone when I picked it up, and some supplies fell out of it. Matches, two books--wait, where those the objects? Yes, I realized, after looking at them a bit more carefully.

Another blanket and some bananas were also in the pile. I shoved everything into our backpack, with the exception of the sword, which I kept drawn; even though it might've been of more use to Cala than me--I wasn't quite ready to hand it over to her just yet.

Well, that was two more objects and more supplies than we'd had a few hours ago. And one less fellow tribute to face later. On the other hand... we were completely surrounded by water. But it didn't seem to bother Cala, and I was just starting to think that she might've been smarter than she let on most of the time.

I decided that we maybe we should've started to head out. Staying in the cave had made sense--it was a safe place to sleep and such. But we already had just about everything that this section had to offer. No resources were here, no good hiding places, and we already had the object.

Not to mention that the girl from Eight was lying dead just a few feet from me. I wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible when I thought about that. It seemed like she might've been trying to head out, too. Maybe she'd had the right idea.

"Cala!" She was still looking at all of the fish, seeming dazed and awed. "Come on, we're going back." That was a lie, since I had no idea where we were really going, but wherever it was, it wasn't going to be here.

"Can't," she said simply.

"What do you mean, 'can't?" I snapped.

"Only one way tunnel," she explained.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Was I really starting to be that much of a control freak? She'd even been right! Which, for Cala, was rare, but, still...

"Which way do you suggest going, then?" I was seriously asking Cala for advice. That was quite the turn of events. I wished then, more than ever, that we still had Ondrew with us. He would've had a better plan.

Cala took a long time to answer, inspecting every inch of the space around us. Just when I was about to sigh and say "never mind" and accept that she wasn't going to help, she said, "Follow the fish."

"Wha--? Oh. Hmm." I watched the fish, like Cala had, and saw that they were all going the same direction. Not that I knew a lot about fish, but that did seem a little strange to me. Bad news: they were all going the opposite direction that I'd been planning on going.

"You know what? Let's try things your way for once."

Sword still in one hand and backpack still on securely, I started to walk in the same direction that the fish were heading, and Cala quickly followed. Something continued to bother me, though. "Cala... how did you know about following the fish?" Part of me wanted to think that that was a stupid, crazy question that it was just something Cala had come up with. But it seemed a little too obscure for it to just be something she'd thought up off the top of her head.

"Butterfly guy said so."

"Butterfly guy?"

"Training."

"Oh." At training, when Ondrew and I pretty much just left Cala at the butterfly-camouflage station so we could go to the more "dangerous" stations, someone there must've told her about the arena. But who would know? The instructor? That had to be against the rules. What else did she know?

"So how do you get out of this section, Cala?" It was worth a shot, right?

She started sprinting ahead of me, and I was running just as fast to keep up with her, almost hitting the glass when she suddenly stopped after several minutes. Trying to steady out my breathing again, I took off the backpack and set the sword down next to it on the ground. Cala started going through the backpack, pulling out one of the books and flipping through the pages.

I looked around at where we were now--it seemed to be a large, glass bubble where a lot of the tunnels met up with one another.

By then Cala had pulled something--some kind of woodwind instrument--out of the back of one of the books. She handed it to me and said, "Anthem."

"Anthem?" I echoed.

"Play."

I didn't know a lot about music, but if Cala was sane enough at the moment to somehow know how to get out of here, I'd try. I blew into what I assumed was the mouthpiece, trying to form the notes of the anthem that played every day in school and each night of the Hunger Games.

I was sixteen notes in when I heard a big disruption in the water above us and stopped. The top of this bubble seemed to be expanding so that it broke the surface of the ocean, just over the crests of the waves, I guessed. Then, it opened up, and a rectangular section of the glass dropped nearly to the ground, little pieces of it folding to make a ladder up to the top.

"No way," I breathed. Sure, we'd have to swim, but I'd done swimming as part of my session with the Gamemakers, and even Cala'd been to the swimming station during training. Maybe we could really make it out. Goodbyes Unspoken, Thoughts Unheard (Night Three): Namitha Gol, District 10 Female Tribute

The sun was setting―decision time. Time to set your priorities straight. I had water here, and it wasn’t a terrible place to spend the night. That would be fine for the short term, but tomorrow? The day after? I hadn’t exactly found any food here.

Stay. I can move tomorrow.

The anthem blared from somewhere overhead, and I closed my eyes as tightly as I could. I didn’t want to see this.

Unless I’d missed another cannon, the first person up would probably be one of the Career boys, though I didn’t know which one. Would it be so wrong to see them one last time?

I opened my eyes, one at a time, slowly, slowly. I caught a glimpse of the Career before the next picture faded in. Callia. My breaths came a bit too harshly. The picture they showed

was a simple headshot from Reaping Day―the rest of District Three, I assumed, was in the background. But all I could focus on was her eyes, remembering watching the life go out of them as she fell to the ground, blood flowing from that last cut of Arsin’s sword.

Newcomb. The cameras at the train station had caught one of his rare, genuine smiles. I blinked a few times, trying to keep the tears back, but with each I could hear the cannon shots, the last screams…

Arsin was next, and all I could think, like the awful person that I was becoming, was that I was glad it wasn’t Link that came up right after Newcomb. It gave me time to try and breathe again.

Link. I felt an extra pang of guilt when his face appeared in the sky. Peaceful, and hovering above all of us, watching. I remembered hearing about his family that first night in the Tributes’ Lounge, could imagine them receiving the bland wooden box containing his body and cursing me for not being able to save him…

I was expecting that to be it, but then there was the boy from District Eight. I barely even glanced up for the rest of the anthem.

And as the seal faded away, I knew that it was done. As far as the Gamemakers were concerned, Newcomb, Callia, and Link were dead and that was it. But I’d make sure that they were remembered. I would. I would win, for them. And I’d make sure that their memories haunted the Gamemakers as much as they did me. Every last one of the damn souls who created these awful, awful Games for their own amusement wouldn’t forget the people whose lives they’d ended.

I. Would. Win.

I was starting to scare myself.

I couldn’t work up the determination, after that, to make a more permanent camp. I was probably just going to end up leaving tomorrow, anyways. Nothing in the Games was permanant―not life, or happiness, or sanity. Only death. So I curled up on the ground against a tree trunk and, for a few minutes, tried not to close my eyes. If the Careers came after me, I wouldn’t run this time. I’d kill every last one of them, and not care. Not one tiny bit.

I let my eyes fall closed. The nightmares would come whether I was awake or not.

The first thing I’d do tomorrow would be setting out to find the objects. That would be the first step I’d take towards wining these games.

And what about another alliance? No, nothing ever to try and replace the Alliance of the Mockingjays. But it wouldn’t be a replacement. It wouldn’t be someone that I’d let myself get attached to. It would be a means of survival, and nothing else, nothing more than that. It would be someone I could easily kill in their sleep once there was nothing left to gain. Maybe,

maybe… but would I ever have the courage to approach another tribute, who had all the crowds of Panem urging them to kill me? Especially one who was strong enough that I wanted them on my side?

I shut my eyes tighter.

I’m hungry.

I burst out laughing. That was just such an ordinary, mundane thought that it just didn’t belong in the Hunger Games. Who had I turned into lately that I even stopped thinking about that? It sounded like something that I’d say at home as I walked into the kitchen. For once, it was a thought that wasn’t about death or revenge or survival. It was something that just about everyone’s thought at some point.

As my laughter died down, I realized how insane I had to look on all of the cameras right now. But then again, maybe nobody looked insane to the Gamemakers anymore.

Insanity was just another part of the Games, and I, for one, was sure that I wasn’t the only tribute with that thought. Weren’t we all crazy to begin with, anyways? For some reason, the thought that some part of me was still “normal” was enough to let me sleep, even if it was only for a few hours.

A few hours of peace, and then we were back to the Games.

Back to the Capitol, back to the Games.

Just One of Them (Night Three): Fabian Bloom, District 1 Male Tribute

The more I thought about it, the better of a thing it was that I couldn't sleep on the third night of the Games. Well, maybe "night" wasn't the right word. It was just a while after the anthem, and we had all been asleep inside the tent, resting before we were going to move to the beach area that Ionia had spotted. I wasn't sure what I thought of that plan. I supposed that that was what we got for having a tribute from District Four as our newly appointed "leader". Should've seen that one coming, really. But Arsin had never brought the idea of moving up, so I guess I figured that District Four could actually fight that intrinsic urge to go back to the ocean.

Whatever time it was, though, I still couldn't sleep. I wasn't completely in the arena. Most of my attention was back home, with Shade.

There was a slight scuffling from outside the tent, and I moved back out of my sleeping bag slowly, retrieving my bow and arrows from their position right near me. I was on the far right-hand side, so it was fairly easy to creep around the others and go outside.

Yes, there was definitely an intruder. I considered, for a split second, waking the others, but, no. There was only one person I could see, and I wouldn't need help. I could easily take care of this, and wouldn't another kill only help with the sponsors?

Now I was thinking like a Career.

I reached for an arrow, loaded the bow, and was just about to let it go when a knife went flying past me, about half an inch from my face. It was a purposeful near miss, a scare tactic, and the knife throwing could only belong to one person I knew. My dear district partner was glaring at me with icy-blue eyes.

"What in Panem do you think you're doing?" I hissed. "Are you mad?"

"No more than you!" she shot back, practically whispering so we wouldn't wake anyone. "Besides, what do you care?"

"You're insane if you're betraying the alliance, that's what! Going to get yourself killed! Going to get us both killed, now."

Chenille swung her backpack over one shoulder and tossed another pack at me. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

I stared at her. Me? Betray the Careers? That was― "Yeah. Sure. Just make one smart move tonight and take the object while we're at it."

"It's probably still inside the tent." She sighed. "We'd really be mad it we went back in there."

"I'll check," I offered. "Should be quick."

"Fine," she practically spat at me. "But don't blame me if you get killed."

I slipped back inside the tent without making any noise. Samantha and Ionia still seemed to be fast asleep. And, yes, there was the book, in a small pile of supplies we kept with us. I reached for it, but it felt too light in my hand. And, on the cover, was: "DECOY 2".

I bit back any swear words for fear of waking anyone and stepped back outside. "The decoy!" I explained to Chenille, still whisper-talking. "The decoy's in the tent, so the real one must be the one we put outside."

"Oh, come on," she muttered. "We're not that dim."

"Really?" I asked. "Look." I walked over to our supply pile, right to where we'd all placed the book that, at the time, we'd thought was just the decoy. But it wasn't there. I searched some more. Nothing.

"Great," I mumbled. "Just great." I turned back to Chenille.

"It's gone. Someone must've taken it while we were busy sleeping."

"Wonderful." Sarcasm and anger dripped from the one word. "All that work, and for nothing. Up the cliff and back, for nothing. Let's get out of here."

I grabbed the bag that she'd initially thrown at me, and my bow. Before I could even take one step beyond that, though, another knife went whizzing right by my side. "What was that for?" I snapped, looking back at Chenille.

"What do you mean? What was―ach!" A quick swing of a sword nearly caught her shoulder, and she jumped back, almost knocking over... Samantha.

I reached for three arrows at once, loading one quickly and shooting at the silhouette that was now battling with Chenille. It missed, a bad, rushed shot.

In seconds, I'd dodged another knife, prepared to shoot another arrow, and let it fly straight for Ionia, this time.

Someone grabbed me by the shirt collar from behind. "Thought you'd run off, didn't you?" The voice was an angry snarl. A long, thin blade pressed heavily against my throat. "Thought that was a good idea?"

I wrenched my hand out of my attacker's grip and knocked the handle of the sword away from me. The force dragged its owner―I assumed Samantha―back and off balance, long enough for me to run out of the way.

Knives flew through the air, back and forth from Ionia and Chenille. I whirled around and shot the last arrow that I'd pulled out at Samantha, who was attempting to intercept the other battle going on. She was too fast for me, dodging the attack while barely looking up.

I reached for another few arrows, shooting loosely and blindly at anyone I saw that wasn't from District One.

"Fabian! Come on!" Someone grabbed my arm, already mid-sprint, and dragged me after them. At that point, it was a fairly safe bet that it was Chenille.

And so I ran, ducking to avoid the last attacks of our pursuers.

Improvisation (Night Three): Ionia Kai, District 4 Female Tribute

Samantha started to go racing off after the District One pair, but I held her back. “What?” she asked. “We’re just going to… let them go off like that?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm. “Let them go. If they’re still alive in the morning, we can attack then.” I let go of Samantha.

“Fine, fine,” she mumbled, brushing some dust off her jacket. Then her voice filled with new anger. “But, then―”

“Let it go,” I insisted. “Being mad’ll only lead you into stupid decisions.” I looked around the meadow. “For now, we need to make sure we don’t go anywhere near that beach area.” The idea of not getting to go through with my earlier plan was disappointing, but… this new version would have to do. “They’ll go looking for us there; I’ll guarantee it.”

“So we stay here?”

“So,” I started, carefully, “we move. Just not there.”

There were a few moments of silence, and I nudged a nearby rock with my foot. “Grab your backpack. Pack up whatever you want; just be ready to leave in ten.”

She scurried off, back towards the tent, and I grabbed my own bag, dumping all of the contents out by the supply pile. Then I started to refill it, grabbing whatever I could imagine needing that would fit: one of the smaller sleeping bags, a full water bottle, a few knives, a flashlight, a few boxes of matches, some rope, a first aid kit, and then all of the packages of food that I could find. A last minute thought occurred to me and I went looking for the object inside the tent.

No such luck. But I did find the decoy, so I placed it in my bag. Had we accidentally placed the real object outside? I looked around, but found nothing.

I took a few deep breaths, blinking slowly. Someone from One must’ve taken it. Well, we’d get it back tomorrow… hopefully.

“The object’s gone,” I called to Samantha.

“WHAT?!”

“Shh,” I reminded her. “Don’t go luring in every other tribute.”

“Right; sorry.”

“They probably took the book with them.” I sighed. “Not a huge problem. We’ll take it back tomorrow.”

Samantha went back to packing up her bag, and I tried to look like I was doing something while I waited. I re-tied my shoes so tightly that it almost hurt, checked that all the zippers on my backpack were closed, picked my best knives to keep drawn, zippered up my jacket, and finally kept fiddling with various clothing articles until Samantha seemed satisfied with her packing.

Took you long enough, I thought, but didn’t voice it. Now more than ever I knew I had to be wary of my allies―or, ally―but some part of me, I think, thought of Samantha as one of my more… loyal, companions.

“Let’s go, then,” I said.

“Where are we going to move to, then? And what are we doing with all of these other supplies? What about―”

I held up one hand to silence her, then realized that I really should’ve let her keep talking for a while, so I could pretend I had answers to her questions. I took a deep breath in and exhaled, slowly. The temperature had plummeted with nightfall, and I could see my breath frozen in the air. “I think we should try to hide the rest of the supplies. It’ll take us forever to move them anywhere, let alone actually sort through them, with just the two of us. But we don’t want to give anyone else an advantage by leaving them up for grabs.”

The pile, between the supplies being used up, lost, or taken out either by us or the District One pair, was actually fairly insignificant, now. A few weapons that none of us really had any use for, the extra backpacks, sleeping bags, blankets, and clothes, duplicates of other supplies, and the tent now took up most of the space.

“We can put it all inside the tent,” I decided. “And then collapse it and hide it up a tree somewhere. Just grab some rope.”

It didn’t take long to throw the supplies we were leaving behind inside the tent, take the poles out of the frame, and tie the bag-like remaining part of the tent up with the rope. A good lot of feet were left loose on the rope, so we could tie it to a tree or something later. With Samantha’s help, I dragged it a fairly good distance into the woods, and, feeling tired, let it fall to the ground. I didn’t realize it would be so heavy, and I had no idea how in Panem we were going to properly hide the thing.

Samantha, however, apparently did. She threw the loose end of the rope over a thick tree branch, not too high above the ground, but high enough, and quickly caught the rope before it could slip back down again. “We’re just going to need to pull on this side of the rope until the tent’s about even with the branch,” she told me.

Together, we were actually able to get it pretty close. “Good enough,” Samantha said, sounding a bit out of breath and tired. “Here, just let go of it…” I frowned, not quite sure what she was doing, but did as she said and let go of the rope. Samantha, seeming a bit strained, kept a good hold on the rope, though it did fall a little, as she climbed up the tree until she could stand on a branch below the tent, just high enough that, if she stretched, she could reach the other side of the rope.

“Careful,” I called up to her.

“I’ve got this.”

I had to say, she really did have incredible balance. Bracing one hand against the tree trunk, she stretched her other arm to loop the long side of the rope around the branch with the tent enough times that soon the rope was only a few feet long. Then she shuffled along the branch until she could tie both sides of the rope together. “There,” she said, sounding satisfied. “Should hold all right.”

“Good; now come down from there, before you―”

She jumped down from the branch, landing smoothly. “Before I… what?” she asked slyly, grinning at me.

I sighed. “I was thinking that we could head back over by the waterfall and see if there were any great camp spots there. It should be far enough.” Truth be told, the day’s journey, the battle of betrayal earlier, and the supply moving had all left me tired, despite the few hours of precious sleep.

“Okay.”

I led the way back towards the lake, heading up the shoreline to the cliff face that we’d been climbing earlier. I paced back and forth a few times, trying to see if there was anything we could use.

That’s when I noticed it. On the front of the waterfall, there was a relatively slim―probably only about a few feet in width―ledge that went all the way down the face of the cliff that the waterfall was on. It was too smooth and… perfect, to be natural. I set my backpack down. “Stay here and keep watch,” I said to Samantha.

The odd ledge wasn’t too high up, and I was able to climb, with a bit of difficulty, up the side that we were facing and pull myself up on to the ledge. It was slippery from the constant spray of the falls, but not terrible. I walked along, and, once I reached the part that went right behind the waterfall, there was a break in the ledge, only a few feet, and another little area that I could easily climb down. I did so, and found myself in a little cave, hidden behind the waterfall. Sure, it was a bit loud, with the echoes of the flowing water, but it was relatively dry and actually slightly on the warmer side compared to where I’d left Samantha.

Roughly ten minutes later―time had really lost all purpose in the arena―Samantha and I were both standing in the little cave area. It didn’t go too deeply into the cliff, but there was enough space for us both to set up our sleeping bags, keep our weapons safely nearby, and store our packs a safe distance away from the waterfall.

“Well, this worked out okay,” Samantha said. “All things considered.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “At least something did.”

“Should one of us be taking watch?” she asked, sounding a bit apprehensive.

I shook my head. “No. No one’ll find us here; and, even if by some freak miracle for them they do, we’ll be able to take them.”

Yes, I thought. That’s a good plan. Let them come. Let them find us, and let them pay the price.

AUTHOR’S NOTE (PLEASE READ IF YOU CARE ABOUT YOUR ANT TRIBUTES’ SURVIVAL!): Want to know how to guarantee that one of the tributes you submitted to A New Tune will survive the bloodbath? Go here: beforethemusicdieslegacy(dot)webs(dot)com/apps/blog/show/10722273-a-slightly-different-opportunityThank you!

To Find Yourself (Day Four): Kizzy Ericssen, District 6 Female Tribute

In my life, I’d lost my whole family, survived an epidemic, lived in the slums of District Six, gotten reaped for the Hunger Games, killed two people, and ran straight into the Careers’ camp. But never, never had I been attacked by a swarm of angry, rabid birds.

That, right there, crossed the line.

Not to complain, or anything.

By the time I was fully awake in the morning, I was batting at these freakish toucan-resembling things that had started pecking at me in my sleep. There was just one, perched next to me, at first, then there was another one, and another one, then five more.

“Ow; really?” One of the birds was a bit too enthusiastic in its biting and I finally managed to fight off the flock enough to get to my feet, (something a bit harder than usual as I was in a sleeping bag), and grabbed my knife, slashing it blindly through the air with my eyes squeezed shut tightly so that they couldn’t claw them out.

“Ach!” I felt a sharp pair of claws drag down whatever arm I wasn’t holding my knife with, and instantly went to smack the bird away from me, without much success.

I couldn’t run. I’d leave everything behind here, and the birds would probably destroy it all. Maybe they were already; I couldn’t see anything other than a swirl of brightly-colored beaks and feathers.

“Sing!” one of the birds squawked. What, wait? Birds talked now? That was something new.

By then I was just flailing, because these stupid things were just all over the place and I wanted them off. “Go away you stupid, freakish―ach!”

Finally I got desperate enough. “A dream to be dreamt, a vision to be seen.” I started the first song that came to mind. I hadn’t sung in ages and I was really awful at it. Whatever I was choking out probably sounded nothing like music, but I was a bit distracted.

“All the world together, an easy dream to dream.”

“Ach!” I kicked off a few birds that’d been trying to trip me.

“And everything was beautiful, and everything was bright… A simple fantasy, like a star in the sky…”

Not that I could feel a lot by then other than the sharp, stinging pecks, but I thought I might’ve been crying. It felt… unfamiliar, and the saltwater stung the places the birds had penetrated my skin.

“A last song to be heard, before you close your eyes,” I got out. The birds’ attacks had lessened but were no less panic-inducing as I swatted them away. “One last chance, and one last melody…”

The pecking stopped altogether, and, as if satisfied with the pathetic excuse for music that was my singing ability, the birds flew off.

I let myself fall to the ground, feeling completely drained. Empty. Tired, like I’d just run a marathon or something. I felt like my whole body weighed a ton and my movements were sluggish. The cool, damp grass felt nice against all of the stinging.

For a long time, I just couldn’t make myself move. After the tears stopped, I tried to regain the ability to breathe. My breaths came in hiccups and the sort of gasps for air that happened between sobs. In out; in, out. Get. A. Grip.

I hadn’t realized that I still had my eyes shut tightly until I blinked them open. My hair was soaked between the rain and tears, clinging to my face. I pushed it aside and sat up, looking around to see what was left of my supplies.

My backpack was torn open, its contents scattered all over the ground. Great. Just great. Apparently not all of the birds had been occupied with pecking me to death. There was no sign of the edible plants I’d collected earlier, or the rope. My sleeping bag, spare clothing set, and tarp were torn―the last two just completely destroyed.

I was still shaking. Now stand up. I did, and walked over to the scattered pile. The first thing I did was empty out my backpack completely to see if anything still inside had been wrecked by those stupid birds.

Slowly, slowly, I made myself replace what was still usable: my loaf of bread, flashlight, first aid kit, two water containers, dried fruit/trail mix packs, and sleeping bag. Last, I put in the two books. I kept my knife in my hand, and put my backpack on, still feeling a bit rigid.

Okay. That was done with. Then why did I still feel like I couldn’t move?

I sat down again and pulled out the remainder of my bread, giving up on self-control, something I’d always been so careful about but seemed to be losing today. Once all of the bread was gone and one of my water containers was half-empty, I pulled a dose of pain-reducers from the first-aid kid and forced myself to swallow them, hoping they’d ease my headache and the pain from various injuries I’d picked up in the arena.

There. I felt better now―not as hungry, in less pain, and still in fairly good shape, even after the birds.

Take that, Gamemakers. Take that.

Another Song Will Rise (Day Four): Caladium Velius, District 9 Female Tribute

I was reaching up. I was on a ladder. There was glass below me and something blue above me. And Lina. She was saying “climb” and “come on” and “hurry”. Water occasionally splashed onto me. The water was from outside the glass. It was cold. Like ice. Ice was cold. Snow was cold. Did it snow here?

I heard a scream but I didn’t know whose it was. One of Lina’s hands disappeared under the water. She was trying to hold on to the glass. Hold on.

Go, before it closes again.

There was another scream and then something that sounded familiar. “CALA!”

Something pulled me into the water. I felt like something was tugging at me. Something was on my arm. Dragging me from the water.

Darkness crashed on top of me; then I couldn’t breathe. Then I was above the dark, cold thing, again. Was it night?

Someone was coughing. Or choking. Being suffocated and strangled. Was it me? Lina? Kane? Who?

Get to the land.

Something stopped me from getting air. I tried to get rid of it but it surrounded me.

“Stop it! Stop it, Kane!” one voice said. “KANE! HELP!”

I tried to call for Kane. Suddenly I wasn’t cold anymore.

There was a scream from somewhere else. “CALA!”

I flailed in the water. Water was cold. Water was bad. Ocean… ocean was bad.

Swim, you idiot! You know how to do this!

Then everything was dark. Very dark. Couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear.

Something pulled me along, and then let go. There was another scream.

Water. I was in water. I was underwater. I was surrounded. I couldn’t breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe; air, air air.

“CALA!”

“Mmph.” Air taken away. Dark, dark, dark. Above me wasn’t blue anymore―it was dark. There was a low sound. Thunder. Then light. Lightning. Storm. Weather. Arena. Gamemakers. Control. Real. Not Real. Ghosts. Trackers. Illusions.

“CALA!”

Real. Lina. Ally. Trust. Friend.

Couldn’t breathe, needed air.

Kane, Kane, where are you? Why aren’t you helping me? KANE?! HELP!

Air. Needed air. To get out of water. Cough, choke, strangle, suffocate, drown, asphyxiation, air, air, air, air!

Breathe in, breathe out; breathe in, breathe out.

No, no, no. I couldn’t do this; I needed to breathe, I needed air, I needed to be on land again, I needed to be home.

Home. Cave. District Nine. Lina. Ondrew. Kane. Kanton. Ghost.

Just swim!

“CALA! CALA! You need to―!”

Air. Height. Oxygen. Breathe, breathe, breathe. Ghost in air. Hover. Hovercraft. Cannon. Dead. Tributes. Dead tributes. Ondrew. Eight. What?

I need to…?

Something crashed on top of me, pulling me down. Down, down, down. Direction. North, east, south, and west. Up. Down. All around. Kid’s song. Song. Music. Notes. Melody. Another Song Will Rise.

Water was around me. Water. Salt. Saltwater. Tears. Though their tears may fall…

Mom. Sing. Home. Kane. Lina. Cave. Nine. Ondrew. Ally.

More water. “MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!” Hurt. Pain. Kane, stop it! STOP IT!

“HELP!”

“CALA!”

More water. More dark. Dark dark dark. Drown. Water. Help. Air. Please…

Air.

Breathe in.

What was happening? Where was I? Where was Lina? Who else was here? What time was it? Time? Watch. Clock. Tick, tock. Rhyme. Poem. Familiar. Song? Another song…

After me. Something was after me. Follow, tracking like the trackers.

“CALA!”

Always dark now, always dark. Dark is bad. Light is good. Kane is somewhere. Lina’s good. Ondrew’s light.

Turn the light on.

Something pulled me in the opposite direction that I was trying to go. Why was I trying to go that way? Air. Breathe. Land. No water. Safe.

No, no, no, NO! I thrashed and screamed and tried to keep moving the other way, trying to stay above the darkness and keep the water off. Something kept pulling me back, making me not move; but I wasn’t supposed to be there, I was supposed to be on the land.

“CALA? CALA!”

I tried to make myself keep moving towards the land, but it was pushing me away, and something was pulling at me. Something made me shift, pulling me under the water. Dark and cold around me, soaking in and pulling down, down, down. Something aboved me moved, something with light.

My eyes were closed; they had to be, I couldn’t see anything. “Kane? Kane!” I saw something like the ghost drifting towards me. Cala, Cala… give up… let it…

I couldn’t talk or breathe or see. I didn’t feel so cold anymore again.

It’s all right; you’ll be safe with me… just let it…

Something was completely wrapped around me tight, something was stopping me from doing anything. Everything felt heavy for a second and then lighter and easier to manage. Kane…

There wasn’t any presssure on me; I was falling, falling. No, drifting. Surrounded by dark and water. There was a roar from above me―storm, thunder, lightning, Kane, ghost, cave, Lina, ally…

Quiet. It was very quiet here. There was blood on the stage.

Blood, red, everything was red, the dark was red, the water was red. Something red―ghost―towards me…

When I woke up, the sun would rise.

No sun here. There was no sun, there was a storm. Why was there a storm? Gamemakers, trackers, illusions, ghosts, real, not real, cave, woods, running, ghosts, Lina…

Cala! Please, come on. It’s over now…

A cannon, and then nothing.

Never Enough (Day Four): Namitha Gol, District 10 Female Tribute

“Uh… hey.”

The District Seven boy approached me with steps that seemed oddly deliberate compared to some of the craziness in the Tributes’ Lounge. I took in the slightly shaggy black hair, the over-sized glasses, the bright gray eyes as I shook his hand. “I’m Link,” he said.

“Namitha.” I could feel an easy smile creeping onto my face, the more friendly side to my personality slipping out. The side that could make allies.

There was a moment of slightly awkward silence and then I said, “So… how ‘bout them Hunger Games?” It came out a bit forced but it was amusing enough that we both laughed. Then again, considering that earlier that day we’d both been picked to be sent off to our very probable deaths, it didn’t take a lot for something to be considered funny.

As the laughter died down, Link said, “Eh. You got any allies yet?”

Perfect. “No. You?” I tried to make it sound casual, like I was just making conversation. But something in Link’s expression told me that he knew what I was thinking.

“No. But I just thought… that maybe, we could… team up.”

“Yeah. That sounds like a good idea to me.”

.

Mom was insisting on “family time” again, and we were touring one of the ranches of District Ten.

I heard Nellie screaming from behind me, which she did every time one of the larger animals moved. She was used to the horses, but apparently she was terrified of the oxen and just about everything else. “Can we go home now?” she pleaded with mom, for once actually sounding desperate. “This place is creeping me out. It seems sort of ghost-town-y.”

“Now, now, Nellie, look at how well Namitha’s doing with all of this.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Not jumping a foot in the air anytime something moves. Very brave of me.”

Mom shot me a warning-glare, and I grinned.

.

My pathetic excuse for a replacement-mentor, Kashton, was sitting across from me. Not to be too negative, but he was definitely the apathetic, non-cuddly type. “You could try pretending, you know. It worked in training; it worked with the Gamemakers.”

“You don’t say,” I said.

“I know it’s easier said than done―”

“No. Really. Please. I’m in shock.”

“But, I have to admit―”

“You just hate it because you know I have more of a chance than Gavin does when you like him better.”

Kashton leaned back in his chair, watching me. “If you don’t want help, just say it.”

“Not that I don’t want help,” I said, making sure the words were careful. “I just don’t need it from you.”

.

For the majority of the early part of the day I drifted in and out of sleep, never fully awake but never really asleep, either. In and out of reality and in and out of the Games. Memories, flashbacks, jumbled together, some clearer than others. But all of them seemed to show my contradictive side; which I didn’t like and didn’t need to be reminded of right then.

Finally I managed to pull myself out of the daze just long enough to sit up, feeling a lot more energized when I saw how late it was already―very late morning, if not early afternoon.

Time to win the Games.

Today I needed to find food, and I needed to find the “special hidden objects”. Easy.

As I stood up, my first thought was that it would’ve been great for Callia to be there―she knew edible plants; she could’ve found something food-like. Newcomb, too, was smart enough that he could’ve figured a plan out. Or Link, who probably would be able to lead us all back to our old camp by the stream.

Why were they dead, and not me? I wasn’t the one who’d found food, or the one who’d come up with the idea of mapping out this section, or someone who’d managed to take out a Career. I wasn’t the skilled one, the talented one. But I was the only person left.

“The Alliance of the Mockingjays,” I whispered, and looked up as if my former allies were watching over me. “This is for you.”

I left my little clearing, keeping a careful eye on the ground and the trees around me for any sign of something I knew I could eat or another tribute. Or one of the ever-so-precious objects, though I highly doubted they would be so easy to find.

How is it that I know nothing about food?

If I had a weapon I could hunt; but I didn’t, so that was out. I could make a weapon, but I had no idea how and probably wouldn’t be good enough with one anyways for it to matter. I hadn’t seen any fish in the streams, so fishing was out. And apparently I was an idiot when it came to plants, because I couldn’t find anything that I’d take the chance of eating. There was probably tons of food all around me; I just couldn’t get to it for one reason or another, or I was acting too much like Nellie and being too scared to take a risk.

She tried to save your life; that’s more than you ever did.

“Shut up!” I snapped, almost walking straight into a tree as I did so. … Maybe I really was finally going insane. Had I really been pushed off the edge by everything that’d happened in

the past two weeks? Was it really only that long since I’d been home and happy? Less than that?

It seemed like so long; so much had changed, so many people had died… even I’d changed. I reached up to touch the top-hat I was still wearing, from Kayla and Ryan. Their names sounded so distant and alien now, like something from another lifetime or a dream. Not my life from scarcely two weeks ago.

So many things were different now; with the Games I’d gained friends and experience and more of a reason to live. And with the Games, I’d lost myself.

When It Fails (Day Four): Chenille Anders, District 1 Female Tribute

It was anywhere between fifteen minutes and three hours, how long Fabian and I kept running that first night on our own.

The woods felt safer than the meadow ever did, more places to hide, more places to make camp, more trees to climb if the mutts ever came back, more resources, more shadows that could hide us.

Whenever it was that we did stop, it was unceremoniously and without discussion. Actually, it was me almost running into a tree at the edge of a clearing. And suddenly, that looked like a great place to make camp. You know the saying “don’t grocery shop when you’re hungry”? Right, well, “don’t pick your camp when you’re dead tired” would’ve been more useful right about then.

I shrugged my way out of my backpack, letting it fall to the ground, then let myself fall to sit next to it. “I’m not moving,” I declared. “If you want to keep going, this alliance ends here and now.”

Fabian seemed more than happy to agree, dropping his bag as well. “One of us should take watch,” I realized outloud, really not wanting to be the one to have to stay up first since I felt about ready to collapse. But I didn’t want to have to wake up halfway through whatever was left of the night either, so I said, “I’ll go first if you’d rather sleep.”

“Fine.” I was glad that, for once, I didn’t have to explain every last word behind the thought. We both knew that Samantha and Ionia probably wouldn’t pursue us tonight but that, come morning, we’d both be done for it we were off-guard long enough.

About five minutes later, I’d lit a small fire―it didn’t matter if someone saw it, as long as one of us was awake, I figured―and we’d both set up our sleeping bags on either side of it. Fabian was out like a light before I could even work in an awkward “goodnight” or something similar.

So I sat, knife in hand, poised to attack anyone who went by.

But was I a lot more focused on watching Fabian sleep, and the way the fire almost made his skin and hair glow? Uh, yeah. I was just considering whether I should’ve checked out the area around our little campsite, more to get rid of those thoughts then to check for any fellow tributes, when I heard Fabian mumble something.

“What?”

I was fairly convinced that he wasn’t awake yet, but he stirred slightly, murmuring something that sounded like, “Shade.”

I wracked my brain to come up with any significance of the word. And, yes, I found it. The interviews―his letter. During training, the song. Shade was his little sister.

Then the thrashing started, like he was having a nightmare, and I was frozen, I could only watch. Why should I care? I shouldn’t―he’s just another tribute; but, no…

He repeated the name. “No, no… no… don’t...” And a bit more frantically: “I volunteer.”

It sounded like he was protesting something by the time I worked my way over to the other side of the fire. “Fabian. Fabian! Wake up!” I tried to shake him awake and when I’d scarcely touched his shoulder he bolted upright, looking just on the verge of screaming.

“Everything’s fine,” I told him, trying to make the words sound reassuring. “It was just a nightmare.”

“Oh,” he breathed, seeming to have a better grip now.

“Are you… okay?” I asked, hesitantly, realizing how close we were sitting.

“Uh… yeah. Fine.”

There was an odd moment of silence, and on impulse I squeezed his hand, wondering what the nightmare had been like. Then I could feel my face turn red as I quickly went to pull my hand away from his. “Sorry,” I mumbled, not even knowing what I meant.

He stopped me. “No, that’s… that’s okay.” He squeezed back before I could move away, then said, “I can keep watch now, if you want.”

I agreed, not able to think enough to argue.

.

On day four of the Games, we didn’t really talk a lot. Early on we’d packed up our camp, planning on returning to the same spot, but not wanting to leave our supplies there unguarded. We split up to scout out the woods around the area for any longer-term food and water sources.

I hadn’t really found anything when I heard the crunch of pine needles behind me, then the whip of a knife barely missing the side of my face, so close that it ruffled my hair.

Wham! I was pinned back against a tree at the shoulders, cornered by… Samantha?

“Thought you’d get away with betraying us, didn’t you?” she snarled. “Thought you’d run away and live ‘happily ever after’?” This did not sound like the simple-minded, naïve girl that I’d left behind at the Career camp.

I felt my eyes go wide when I saw the katana in her hand. She dragged the very tip of the blade down my arm, barely cutting my skin.

“FABIAN!” I screamed, feeling my panic rising. “FABIAN!” I couldn’t breathe. Feeling my heart pounding so loudly that I was surprised Samantha couldn’t hear it, the world swam in front of me and the pain from my arm came in waves. I struggled harder. My knife was so close, but I couldn’t reach it. So, so agonizingly close.

She repeated the teasing brush of the weapon against my arm.

“Chenille!” He wasn’t far from here. But could he get here fast enough? Samantha seemed to be taking her time, but what was Ionia up to? Was she even here?

I screamed as she dug the sword into my side, deeper so that blood quickly soaked through my clothes and dripped on to the ground.

“FABIAN!”

Drip, drip, drip. The steady flow of my blood was no less painful after a few seconds. I gritted my teeth.

I didn’t think I’d ever been so relieved to see someone in my whole life when Fabian burst into the clearing.

For just one moment, time froze. Over Samantha’s shoulder I could see an arrow flying at Ionia―so she was here―and a knife flying right towards― “FABIAN!” I screeched again, a warning, this time.

He didn’t need it, easily ducking out of the way. My heart rate started to slow and he quickly came up behind Samantha, shooting another arrow towards Ionia as he did. I was frozen, not quite registering what was going on and all that pain and blood was really distracting―

I didn’t realize that I’d been holding my breath until Fabian pulled Samantha away from me by the hood of her jacket. It just slipped from his grip, but she still lost her balance, falling to the ground and scrambling backwards to try and regain her footing.

Another knife flew towards Fabian, barely missing and actually almost hitting me, and my heart rate went up again.

Instinct kicked in.

It was time to fight.

Boom.

I didn’t have time to see whose cannon it was, but prayed that it was Samantha’s as I flung another knife at Ionia, who dodged it easily. Another arrow went whizzing right by me, targeting Ionia, and I was pretty sure that it wasn’t Samantha.

Not having time to be relieved, I couldn’t see where the arrow landed but Ionia was clearly still alive, if running out of weapons.

When she moved to dodge another arrow, I knew. I threw another knife, just fast enough that it collided with her before she could move back.

Boom.

With the cannons then, and what I’d heard earlier, we were down to the final five. Me and Fabian and the girls from Twelve and Six and Ten.

But when I looked back at Fabian, I realized there was just one problem―the words of my mentor.

Don’t abandon each other. Ever.

This Is Your Insanity:

Laecia Anders, District One

I still cringed every time I thought about that sword, like I could actually feel the pain it’d inflicted on my sister and her only ally. I didn’t want to doubt our training, and I knew that Chenille could do just about anything she decided she wanted to, but… with the injuries both of the tributes from our district had already, I just couldn’t see them getting out of another battle alive. Their biggest threats, ironically, seemed to be dead; but in the end only one of them was going to live, if either of them.

I watched as night began to fall on day four of the Games. “District One”, as the commentators were calling them, had moved away from the battle site, but just barely. Getting out of the battle so scathed was definitely going to prevent them from seeking out another fight.

Their greatest power now, I thought, would be manipulation, if Chenille was smart enough to think of leading the other tributes into traps. She’d probably learned the art from me, even though she was older by three years.

Leaving most of the Careers was a good step in that direction―but I thought she would’ve anticipated the revenge-seeking style of the District Two girl before it was… a bit late for that. But I had a feeling District One would still have a victor this year.

One day, I was going to volunteer for the Games; and I hoped that I’d have my sister as a mentor when I did.

Saber Star, District Three

You know, one thing in the Games made me want to laugh, and that was the obvious film editing that concealed what was written in the five books. I had to say that the Gamemakers weren’t actually doing too bad of a job with that editing, but putting those records in the arena? A dumb move. Bad move, too much emotion there and not enough precise sense.

Of course, they’d think that everyone who did see the objects would die in the arena, except for the victor, whom they obviously had some sort of plan for. Why else would the Quell be so early? That was obviously rigged―I didn’t buy into that plan one bit.

Maybe I was biased. Maybe I just missed Fourteen. Wait, no; I didn’t miss anything! Weapon, weapon, weapon; no free will for you. No emotion. Right. Got it. Control.

I was sent here to be safe from the Capitol. “Oh, well, you’ll have Trey to look over you!” they would say. Trey’s a victor―my unofficial trainer. To be safe from the Capitol, you have to go into the land they control. Of course that makes sense… it has to. But it couldn’t apply to everything―to be safe from the Games or the Reaping, you couldn’t just go into the arena. That would make it… unstable.

But that was sort of what they’d done with Trey―put him into the Games to see what they could find out; it was what both of us were doing―finding out what we could about Panem. “Panem”. What a joke.

Nellie Gol, District Ten

Our living room was starting to be a bit crowded. Between me, Mom, Dad, Kayla’s family and Ryan’s family, all watching the Games day and night here, cheering for Namitha and praying and willing her to come home… it was easy to want to be alone for a few minutes.

It was supposed to be Namitha here at home. Not me.

“Why isn’t she doing anything?” Kayla, and the other half of “the twins”, as she and Namitha were called, said. “All she’s been doing is wandering around, ever since…”

Since night two, I knew. She’d let herself care about her allies, and then they all died right in front of her. That was why she couldn’t focus long enough to find food or a better place to camp.

And Ryan answered, “Well, you know her. Probably trying to discover the meaning of life or something.” For once, no one would laugh.

Those two did most of the talking―their families didn’t care about Namitha like they did, and I didn’t really have anything to say. Mom and Dad had gone into some state of shock, really starting with the Reaping, getting worse when we heard about Tara and the freak-virus. Of course I was sad then, and I still was now, but that seemed a lot… simpler, than watching these Games go on and on.

I was starting to think that maybe if I screamed at the screen loud enough Namitha could hear that I wasn’t really angry at her anymore over the fight we’d had after the Reaping. Yeah, I was normally mostly a coward; but for once I’d managed to step up and I’d volunteered. Still, I could see now why she’d rather be in the Games than watch me most likely die.

That just didn’t change that I felt the same way.

“Fall” Yates, District Eleven

Was I crazy, or was I actually starting to miss work in the fields?

Of course, most jobs that weren’t completely crucial stopped for the Games, since watching was pretty much mandatory. I was sure from the outside of the little houses here, the place looked like a ghost town for a few weeks every year. Most families barely scraped by, like mine, but even most of us had a better television than the dusty, cracked screens in the square.

I tried to stay cheerful during the miserable weeks of the Games, and it wasn’t actually too hard this year. I hadn’t really known either of the District Eleven tributes; the boy looked familiar from school, but that was about it. They were both long dead by now, anyways. Plus, by the looks of it, these Games were going to be over soon. Five tributes left on the fourth day, most probably on the way out through starvation or injuries? That had to be a record.

I didn’t even really know who I was cheering for―not either of the Careers left, the District One pair, certainly. The girl from Ten was all right until her allies died and she seemed to sort of snap, and the girl from Six―Kizzy―was amusing at times… Who else was left? I tried to remember. Oh―Carolina―the girl from Twelve who almost drowned today. Her ally actually did, and I’m not sure what kind of state that really left her in. Probably in shock.

It was all going to end soon, anyways; so what did it really matter?

Belle Hatton, District Twelve

In my nightmares, I was seven again, and watching a mine tunnel collapse.

In my dreams, I was living on the other side of the tunnel my parents died building, free and out in the woods.

In reality, I was sixteen, and running to hide Hope every time the door to Meggy’s Children’s Home opened because the Capitol couldn’t know she existed.

I didn’t exactly sign up for having a one-year-old baby before I was even out of the Reaping―that was the fault of some sick-minded Peacekeeper who to this day probably didn’t know my name. But that didn’t mean that Hope wasn’t my entire world, and that’s why I’d keep her out of the Capitol’s eyes and out of the Reaping until I could move out of the district forever.

Normally at this time of day all of the children would be outside working in the garden and I’d either be with Hope or tracking down a good book―or any book, for that matter. But this was the time of the Hunger Games, and the children old enough to handle them were watching in the common room with Meggy, who ran the community home and was an old family friend of mine.

I watched over those who weren’t old enough to know the horror of the Games yet, only watching recaps at night in case an official ever asked and I’d have to pretend that I knew about what was happening. This was easier anyways; I didn’t have to worry about Hope being alone or having to have her in the room while I watched the Games. She probably wasn’t old enough to understand what was happening, anyways.

I thought for a second that you could never be old enough to understand the Capitol, then dismissed the thought, as if someone were listening.

Losing It All (Night Four): Kizzy Ericssen, District 6 Female Tribute

You know, it was really starting to get to me, why those stupid birds seemed to matter so much. That was it―I was getting out of this rainforest if it killed me, I didn't care. I wanted out of here, no matter what.

I packed everything up again, and gave up on having a plan. I would let the arena or the Gamemakers or whatever was controlling my sanity now take me wherever they wanted, and then worry about why they wanted me to be there. Just let instinct kick in.

Wandering aimlessly in some vague direction, I wasn't getting too far, even as the sun began to set. By that point in the Games, it seemed like I'd felt every bit of fear and pain and grief that I could ever feel, and there was nothing else, no more of it, everything flat.

Then, finally, I saw something that wasn't more rainforest, and mustered up enough energy to run towards it. A beach; peaceful, serene… ah, no. Something not right here. The Games, peaceful? Yeah, right.

I jumped a foot in the air at a sudden noise, knife raised to attack as I spun and looked for the source, only to find that it was directly overhead. The anthem. Duh, you idiot.

There were deaths today, starting with the girl from District Two, then the one from Four. Two more Careers down in just one day? I'd heard cannons earlier―three, four?—but hadn't suspected that it was one of the stronger competitors, let alone two.

Then the girl from Eight, and the crazy one from Nine. Four tributes dead in just twenty-four hours, about halving what was left of the field yesterday. Was it awful that I'd stopped feeling a pang of guilt during the anthem, knowing that those tributes were dead because only one of us could survive? Instead I felt only a bit of relief that those were four people I wouldn't have to track down, that I was that much closer to maybe going home. Not maybe. It can't be maybe, there isn't any other choice.

As the faces all faded from the sky, leaving just the Capitol seal, I noticed it almost right before the projection went out completely, the music score lines that were running across the bottom of the seal. The pattern looked a bit too familiar, but I didn't know from where, or if I was just hallucinating. Even then, I probably saw about… two seconds of it, before the sky went dark again.

Just as the shadows setttled back in, a single voice echoed from overhead. Not the booming voice of the classic Games Announcer, but a softer one, definitely female. "Congratulations, tributes of the four-hundred fifth Hunger Games. You have all done remarkably well. At this point in time, with the current status of the Games, several records have been broken. At this rate, these will be the shortest Games in all of Panem's history." There was a pause. "As you know, this year we honor our seventeenth Quarter Quell, and some aspects of the Games have been changed."

Pause again, in which I was completely on-edge, frozen. What, in all of Panem, could've inspired the Gamemakers to make the Games even more different than usual? Okay, okay, very funny; just keep us in suspense. Really. Just in the middle of a fight to the death here. Nothing urgent; take your time.

"And with that in mind, we bring you Phase Two."

I wondered for a split second if the Gamemakers could stop time, because I could've sworn that they did. For one second, I was alive, I was dead, I couldn't feel anything yet I felt everything, there was no noise yet it pounded in my ears, every little bit of motion, even the sway of leaves just stopped, yet it sped up to the point where I couldn't see it.

For another second, I couldn't notice anything as sheer, splitting agony took over. I was being pushed and pulled in every direction, I couldn't sense enough to lose control or even scream, and then the pain was over and I was bolting blindly towards something; I had no say in what I was doing―was this actually a trick of the Gamemakers?—but it was so important that I got to this thing that I was tracking, but I didn't know what it even was.

The outside control over me ended and before I could notice I was on the ground, flat on my face, backpack near crushing me. I felt almost just as I had after the attack of the birds, weak

and tired and hollow as it took every inch of adrenaline in me to stand up. There was a shift in the hedge that was now behind me, reflected in the Cornucopia.

Trapped. That's what I was. I'd said to let the Gamemakers take me where they wanted, even if I hadn't meant it so literally, thank you very much, and this was where I was supposed to be. All of the fragmented pieces of information from the night in my mind seemed to be clicking together, and it just felt right, like I was meant to be in this situation. I had the feeling that soon, a lot of things were going to be over.

What had happened to me? Had I finally really just lost it?

As I truly focused in on the space around me again, I came to one crucial realization:

I wasn't alone.

Battle of Five (Night Four): Carolina Rowan, District 12 Female Tribute

Panic started to set in on me slowly, as if I were sinking down into water.

I tried to breathe. What do I already know? I’m in a relatively small, enclosed area with four people who want to kill me, and in the middle of all of us is a book.

“Welcome to the Games,” came the words from the speakers of the arena, and one of the other tributes had started screaming. Before anyone could do anything about it, the girl from One was racing towards the book, dodging a knife thrown by the girl from Six and launching an attack of her own, barely missing.

Ten had stopped screaming by now and was running to retrieve the knife the Career had thrown. I raised my sword to try and intercept the girl from Six, but she ducked just in time to retrieve her own weapon. An arrow whizzed passed me, skimming my left arm before I could move enough, another knife almost catching me before I turned on the girl from Ten, who was weaponless again.

She dodged my attacks, not easily, but she did it, and then a silver parachute landed just a foot away from her. She lunged for it, but I almost beat her there, and she wrestled a long, gleaming silver blade out of the package and jumped back to her feet again.

I let myself fall back, away from where she had just brought the weapon down, and scrambled back up as well, snapping out my sword so that it almost knocked hers out of her hand.

What am I doing?

She regained her balance quickly and tried the same move against me, almost succeeding before she changed tactics and jabbed at the air―or me―with the end of the blade, and all I could do was keep moving backwards, trying to use my sword to block the attacks.

I almost ran into the boy from District One, who was about to launch another arrow at Six, but it missed when the girl from Ten gave up on me and plunged her weapon into his stomach. “That was for the Alliance of the Mockingjays!” she yelled before his cannon fired.

“NO!” Three different knives at once flew at her, mostly almost hitting me as the girl from One ran over. With minor injuries, Ten had jumped back out of the way as she pulled her weapon out and turned back to me, the blood on the sword splattering over both of us as she dragged it through the air.

I thought of Cala using the same weapon in my hand against the girl from Eight, of Ondrew racing in for supplies at the bloodbath. And my mother and York back home, watching me as I turned into some ruthless killer that I wasn’t.

Knives flew in different directions between the other two of us that were left while Ten and I were still blocking each other’s attacks and occasionally running into the hedge and dodging the thrown weapons.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the leather-bound book that could help get me out of here.

No one else seemed to notice that in the midst of the battle it was abandoned on the ground; I dodged a sweep of the sword as I ran for the object, not daring to breath as I scooped it up, spinning so fast that I almost fell over but in my haste to counter another attack from Ten the weight of my sword pulled me forwards.

Three. Three objects―two more, and I was home. But there were a few other people that had to be taken care of.

Ten seemed to give up on me and turned her attention to the girl from Six, and I barely had a moment to recover before One had pulled out of that battle and had her eyes set on me instead.

I backed up a few feet, knowing that I had a distinct disadvantage here, since I could only attack up close while she could attack at a short distance.

I dodged a knife, ducked to grab it, having to drop the book to do so, and meanwhile fended off any attackers with the sword, rather unsuccessfully, as I almost got pinned against the hedge before I could move.

A bit clumsily but quickly enough, I switched the weapons in my hands so I could aim the knife with my good one, missing my target. I replaced it with the sword and then thought of something―in training, I’d done archery and hadn’t been too pathetic at it. The boy from One’d had a bow and arrows, and I hadn’t noticed a hovercraft as of yet.

I slashed my sword at One, hitting her shoulder and in the moment she took to recover sprinted over to the body of her district partner, then realized that I couldn’t use both weapons at once.

The second parachute I’d seen that night fell at my feet, and I lunged at it just as Ten had earlier, sliding across the ground and out of the way of another attack of the girl from One. It was a sheath for the sword―perfect.

Buying time, I tried to catch One again with my current weapon but failed. She was almost out of knives and was just darting to retrive one while I quickly hooked the sheath onto my belt loop, still keeping hold of my weapon as I wrenched the boy out of the boy from One’s lifeless hand, grabbing a few remaining arrows out of the quiver.

One was launching attacks again, which I had to dodge while keeping a frim grip on the new weapons, awkwardly tucking the sword into the sheath as I tried to position the bow properly.

One knife caught my shoulder and I cried out, but it hadn’t been a deep enough cut to really impair my little shooting abilities.

I launched an arrow at One, who dodged it easily, but it did hit Ten, a bit behind her, in the side, not a fatal hit, but it took her a second to pull it out, still fighting with the girl from Six.

I quickly ran out of arrows that, other than the first, missed, and dropped the bow, pulling the sword back out instead, just in time to see another knife flying right at me.

And in the split second I had left, I knew that this time, it wasn’t going to miss.

Over (Night Four): Namitha Gol, District 10 Female Tribute

The weapon in my hand was no longer gleaming, instead coated in a fine layer of drying blood.

I was poised to attack the District One girl again when the same feeling I got earlier hit again. The tingling, uncomfortable feeling―not really painful but very disorienting, faded a lot faster than I thought it would.

I hadn’t lost control like I had last time, either, and I couldn’t figure out what was different at first. Then I could hear it―but it didn’t sound like I was hearing it; it was… it was all in my head.

Still, I could hear the voices of my allies, but I didn’t even know exactly what they were saying. I didn’t need to, though. The intention was enough. I couldn’t block it out, but I managed to come back to my senses enough to notice that One also seemed to be affected by this. Kizzy from Six I wasn’t sure about, but she was looking around wildly with wide eyes.

The voices reduced to indistinct whispers, but mentally I screamed, No, no, NO! Shut up! I had to move fast to dodge a weapon thrown my way. I swung my sword out at One, and she

jumped back just in time, pulling out a knife of her own with a long, clean blade. She curved it up under my weapon to try and unbalance me, almost succeeding. I drew my arm back and jabbed the end of the sword at her, dragging it back through the air to aim again.

As I did, she tried a different technique and took out another knife more suited for throwing, and launched it at me from a short distance. It didn’t work because the weapon slipped out of her hand at the last second and fell more than flew.

I used the flat side of the blade to try and knock her longer knife out of her hand, but she was quick to counter, and my own weapon went flying. Not even having time to think about that, I jumped back to avoid another swing, then ducked, grabbed the knife she’d dropped and sprung back up again. But this wasn’t so suited to this type of combat―it didn’t take a genius to figure that out―and Kizzy was starting to join in now instead of just staying out of the way.

She’d collected in her left hand several weapons that’d been lost or discarded, and was now quickly―if a little awkwardly―launching them at both One and me.

I just about gave up then. The voices were still ringing in my mind and I just felt so, so weak and tired. I couldn’t keep up with this action. Now I was just half-heartedly dodging and ducking and scrambling back to keep out of the battle’s way.

What would you have done? I asked my allies, knowing they couldn’t hear me. If you were here now?

I stumbled backwards out of the circling fight going on and tried to stop the world from spinning. Who was I kidding? I knew all along I couldn’t win these Games. I wasn’t the right person who deserved to. Any decent person in these Games were dead already.

The voices in my mind seemed to grow stronger, and I shook my head to get rid of the negativity. Now, I was still determined. My allies wouldn’t have given up if they were here. I had to win.

I was just going to have to be smart about it.

I ran and took the sword that the girl from Twelve had, before throwing myself back into this final epic battle. Both Six and One seemed to be short-distance attackers, but not preferring more hand-to-hand combat style weapons.

I came up behind where the battle was moving and snapped the sword out to hit One. But she dodged me, and aimed another knife for Kizzy.

I jumped to the side to stand to the right of both of my other competitors, and soon they saw that their tactics weren’t going to work. Kizzy didn’t have a weapon suited for this and jumped back, One drew the knife she had that was almost close to a sword, and hit it against my own weapon so hard I was thrown to one side, brushing the hedge before I caught myself.

More knives were pelted back and forth between Kizzy and One, before I caught up again, breathing hard, and continued to try and attack with my sword. One, I discovered, was awful at multi-tasking.

In her left hand she held a few knives that she was, one by one, when the opportunity came, throwing at Kizzy behind me. Did I like having such an obvious blind spot that weapons were flying from? No.

I shifted so I could see both of the other tributes. One still had her knife-sword in her right hand, using it to counter my attacks, which seemed to be her main focus as Kizzy’s throws were getting easier to dodge, more predictable.

As One and I were fighting and avoiding attacks from Kizzy and all the while trying to not run into the hedge around us, I kept fighting to block out the whispers. I drew my sword back and jabbed it out at One as fast as I could, before she could block it. It caught her in the side, not a fatal hit yet.

She continued launching knives over my shoulder at Kizzy in the moments she didn’t have to block me, either because she was far enough ahead or I was just trying to dodge other attacks.

But she didn’t aim her next knife for Kizzy. Instead, it came flying towards me so fast that I couldn’t dodge it.

I hit the ground, seeing the Games go on before my eyes fell shut.

Goodbye, Goodnight (Night Four): Chenille Anders, District 1 Female Tribute

Kizzy Ericssen was not wasting time.

I almost tripped over the body of the girl from Ten when I raced forwards, knives already drawn.

One, two, three! I sent them all flying in her direction at once, but they all just got stuck in that stupid hedge.

Come on, Chenille; you can do this…

The whispering that was happening in the back of my mind seemed to intensify―that was the only word for it. It really wouldn’t have disturbed me that much if it hadn’t been his voice, when he was lying dead on the ground barely ten feet away.

Fabian. You’re just going to jump back up any second now and help me with this…

Another knife went whizzing past me, and I ducked, scarcely fast enough. I tried to think of an advantage I had over the other tribute that was surely going to be my last kill. I’m faster. Stronger. … And probably smarter.

I only had two knives left. Two shots.

I held them both in one hand, pausing for one second to dodge one of her attacks before throwing one knife slightly to her right, not meaning to even hit her but just to get her to move, while I aimed my other at the space to her left, which was where she recoiled to, but not enough.

I was about ready to scream in frustration. “Will you just DIE already!”

… I just said that out loud, didn’t I?

The knife had firmly hit her in the shoulder, and she took a second to yank the weapon back out; but it wasn’t a fatal hit! Why was nothing I was doing working?

I was thankful she had to take that second as a break, long enough for me to run, as fast as I could, to clumsily retrieve another few knives off the ground.

I heard the rush of air a second too late to dodge, and fell forwards so that the blood dripped off my arm and onto the ground. Choking and feeling sick from the pain, I scrambled back to my feet, thanking my lucky stars that she hadn’t hit my good throwing arm.

I almost fell over as soon as I was upright, feeling dizzy from losing too much blood today and ready to collapse of exhaustion. Move!

It was all I could do to shuffle back and dread my own death as Kizzy moved closer. She was clearly planning on making a show of it―or was she?

Could I have used this to my advantage?

I had my eyes tightly closed for a second, waiting to hear a cannon or see some burst of light or something, thinking of how pathetic I was and what I wanted my last thought to be, and how I wouldn’t get to really say goodbye to my mother or Denny or Laecia or Fabian or… or anyone.

And my last words were going to be spoken in hatred.

I forced myself to open my eyes again, ready to kill―in the most literal sense. I’m not going to die. Not for a long, long time.

Kizzy was just close enough for me to jump forwards, grabbing her by the shirt collar and throwing her back to where I’d just been, against the hedge. I had the knife in my hand, I could do it.

I whipped my blade out, and―she ducked.

Damn you, District Six!

She grabbed me by the ankle and I lost my air supply as I slammed into the ground. She was poised over me with a long, bloodstaind blade, just about to bring it down.

I half-expected it to all happen in slow motion, but it didn’t. In fact, time seemed to speed up, like I was just watching it happen in a video of a past Games, with people I didn’t know.

I was scarcely aware of pushing off the ground as much as I could, moving back just enough that the blade lodged itself in the ground. As carefully as I could in the few seconds I had, I jumped back to my feet, pushed Kizzy out of my way, pulled the weapon out of the dirt, and swung it out at her.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she jumped back. Yeah, take that! I thought. Didn’t expect that, did you?

I brought my sword down through the air like I was slicing something in half, always moving forwards as she backed away. If I lost this battle, it would be the stupidest loss in Hunger Games history. I had my only remaining competitor weaponless, alone, severely injured, and practically cornered. If she didn’t die, people would be laughing at me for the next hundred years of Games.

I wouldn’t let them have that satisfaction.

I swung and jabbed at her as she just kept moving, always just barely enough out of the way until I was really ready to just strangle her and get it over with. Sometimes I actually even hit her, but never a deep enough swipe to do damage that she wouldn’t ignore.

As she ducked to avoid the latest blow, she came up with a weapon of her own, and I started a list of all kinds of swear words mentally.

Great! I blew it! Now I’m done for!

A sharp, high-pitched sound filled my ears as our weapons collided again and again, and it became about defense, not attacking. “Will… you… just... die…!” I yelled, each word puncuated with a jab of the sword.

“Never,” she snarled, and brought her weapon down on top of mine so that it would’ve fallen out of my hand if I hadn’t have kept such a firm hold.

Instead, it brought me down with it, face-down on the ground.

If I had let go of my weapon, I would’ve won. And, oh, what I would’ve given to go back in time just five seconds.

A sharp pain from behind me joined the rest of the aches, and someone pulled me forwards into darkness.

To Tell a Tale: Kizzy Ericssen, District 6, Victor of the 405 th Hunger Games

Boom.

The cannonshot didn’t actually sound like that. It seemed to resound, echoing again and again in my ears, as if it were firing again for each dead tribute. Actually, make that each dead kid.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

I was standing over the dead body of the girl from District One, looking down at lifeless blue eyes and shaking so hard that the weapon in my hand fell to the ground with a thud.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

The cheers coming over the speakers, the Games Announcer’s voice saying that I had won, but I still had to find the five objects, were all so distant they might have been playing the noise back in District Six for all I cared.

I was so done with this.

What had I been thinking? Playing “tribute” for the Capitol and letting them control me, going along with their stupid, stupid Games.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

I wasn’t supposed to win. I wasn’t the type of person allowed to leave the arena.

I wasn’t supposed to be a killer.

These Games were over, for me. Done. Gone. Past. I wasn’t going back to the Hunger Games. Never.

Let them kill me, I thought. Let them flood the place, let them send in their mutts… let them. See if I care.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Slowly, slowly, I circled the Cornucopia, and looked at all the bodies that were still just lying around, almost nonchalantly. Like, “Hi. I’m dead.” The stillness, the last terrified expressions frozen on their faces… I felt sick.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

The openings of the hedge were back, letting me out, even though technically I didn’t need to leave. All of the books were apparently right there in the Cornucopia area, but I wasn’t about to start caring now.

I walked out the exit that I thought I’d come through, leaving everything behind in the enclosed area. I was back at the beach.

I found it odd, how the arena was still functioning. It went on, even without the tributes.

Boom. Boom.

Everything was creepily silent; the only sound I could hear was the waves crashing against the shore while I waited for one to come and try to drown me, driving me back to the books, to victory. No such luck. It was just too peaceful.

I laid down on the sand, hands folded, looking up at the sky and remembering the anthem that’d played earlier.

I thought about the kids whose faces had been up there. I didn’t even know their names.

Boom.

.

“Kizzy! Kizzy!” I spun around to see my giggling twin little sisters. “You didn’t find us!”

“Go hide again! I wasn’t ready!”

They both raced off, up the stairs, way too loudly for someone trying to hide. I turned around and started counting mentally: one, two, three… oh, whatever, I’ll know when they’re ready… Aylette takes forever, though…

“Count to twenty this time!” one of them trilled―Panem only knew which one. I suspected Zuette, but maybe that was just me.

“Okay, okay…” I pretended to count until I couldn’t hear them running around and giggling.

.

It was a dark, rainy day. I woke to the rain dripping off a leaf onto my face, running down into my eyes. I forced myself to sit up off the ground, to find that the little shady area I’d fallen asleep in was now a huge mud puddle. “Great.” My backpack was running empty―time to find food again. Not like the slums were the hot spot for free food. Especially not in District Six. I’d find my way around, though. I always did.

.

Only the last dream I had that night had something off about it, something manipulated and not quite real. Less of a memory, more of a delusion. I felt like I was awake for, oh, say maybe two seconds before I was pulled back under into it.

.

I was falling, but I didn’t feel sick, more like I was flying, floating.

Around me was solid black, just darkness. One by one, I heard the cannonshots again, and with each of them, a different ghost-like face stared down at me.

Boom―the girl from One.

On and on, forever it went until: Boom―the boy from Twelve.

The last faces weren’t accompanied by cannons, and instead they were full-body portrayals, running down through the dark to keep up with me.

My family. And I was included.

Me and Mom and Dad, Zuette and Aylette, all laughing, smiling, almost maniacally.

I whispered something―even I didn’t know what―and reached out for the image. Just as quickly, it faded, and left me only with:

Boom.

.

When I opened my eyes again, it was still just as dark as it was before. Was this seriously the “plague” the Gamemakers were unleashing―eternal night? Well, let them have their way, then. I could live in this arena forever while they tried to drive me to the way out.

But… no. The moon had definitely shifted, even if the lighting wasn’t any different. I sighed a bit and laid down again, knowing morning would come eventually.

A thought came to me, about what had happened earlier. The Gamemakers had practically taken over my mind, forced me to run to the Cornucopia, made me do what they wanted. Why couldn’t they do it again? Were they purposely letting me get there on my own?

Then I remembered the last dream.

I felt like I should’ve been disturbed or something, like any normal person would’ve, by that first part―the cannons and the faces. All the creepy dead kids. But it was like I’d already accepted it so much that I couldn’t feel it.

The second part made me panic, then relax, then jump to my feet. The old days―of playing hide-and-seek with the twins, with helping Mom make dinner and listening to Dad talk about the news and walking to school in the morning and―

I was getting out of this place, I decided, all resolve gone. I was done. I remembered now, why I had to win. I had to go home.

I vaguely wondered if I was actually thinking that, or if it was just the Gamemakers manipulating me again. But the thought felt real, like one that was actually mine.

You can imagine that I got a burst of energy and enthusiasm, that I went racing back towards the Cornucopia at the speed of light and then grabbed all the books and cheered and said, “Yay, I won!”

Are you crazy? I didn’t do any of that. Please. This was me we were talking about. Me, Kizzy Ericssen, yeah, hi, nice to meet you. I didn’t do any of that.

Instead I walked back through the hedge opening, probably sluggishly. The amount of blood staining everything was almost comical, like some freakish Capitol decoration that should’ve been accompanied by dramatic music. It was fake, I told myself. I certainly hadn’t caused any of it―no, no, no, that wasn’t the blood of anyone I knew, not the blood of anyone I killed.

The bodies were gone. They didn’t exist in my world anymore. That, those awful Games, they were all a nightmare.

I was deluding myself. Going crazy already.

In the place of the girl from Twelve there were two books, then another two that I’d already collected back where I left them. And one that as far as I knew didn’t seem to ever have an owner. I picked them all up, and the second I touched the last one, I heard it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present the victor of the four-hundred fifth Hunger Games; I give you―Kizzy Ericssen!”

A Little Bit More: Kizzy Ericssen, District 6, Victor of the 405 th Hunger Games

Okay―blinding white light when I woke up―cliché, much?

I finally got myself to stay awake for more than a few seconds, and got my vision back. I was in the most boring room I’d ever seen, and belive me, I’d seen a whole ton of boring rooms in my life.

Freaky-looking people in white medical uniforms hung over me. Looking back on it, they didn’t look all that threatening, but I panicked.

The screams building inside me couldn’t quite escape and I found no restraints on me as I bolted upright, pracitcally threw myself off the edge of the bed, and ran, just slipping out of their grasps. Right away I had to make a choice, making a left, not even bothering to make note of what turns I’d taken because I wasn’t going back, and I just kept sprinting, putting as much distance between me and them as humanly possible.

Think, Kizzy. Come on…! You can do this. You can get away from those freaks.

I didn’t even notice them until someone caught my sleeve, but it slipped from their hold and flung me face-first onto the floor. Every bit of air I had left in one breath as I scrambled back to my feet, escape hopes gone with curiousity getting the better of me. I turned to see who’d caught me.

Antara. My mentor. Great.

She wasn’t even alone, either. Aurelius and “Ms. Twine” were there too, and none looked happy with me. Not like I cared.

“Well, if it isn’t our little victor. Didn’t expect to see you again, kid.” I glared at my stylist, scowling. Clearly, this whole “escape” deal―it wasn’t working out so well for me.

“Hoped I wouldn’t see you again,” I answered, just as the doctor-people caught up with me (they must’ve been seriously slow runners), security guards and what looked like maybe a few Peacekeepers trailing behind them. Antara waved them off, seeming oblivious to the fact that they just looked so offended. I resisted the urge to laugh. This was just too good an opportunity to miss.

“Yeah, seriously, chill,” I told them, feeling a bit unlike myself. “Not like I was doing anything rebelli―” I didn’t even have the word out of my mouth before I had about seven different guns pointed at me. Dead accurate ones, too. Great. Didn’t seem like such a great opportunity anymore.

And, just to make it better, someone appeared behind them, saying, “If you shoot, you’re all dead. Not to mention fired.” The guards all jumped back so fast, practically bowing to this new arrival, that I got the feeling I should be nervous. That, however, wasn’t really my forte.

At least, not until I saw who it was: President Paylor, looking about ready to kill. If I was pretending that these were Hunger Games interviews, I’d have said that her angle would be intimidation, being the center of attention. She was damn good at it.

She regarded the security and medics like they were insects, and with a dismissive wave of her hand, said, “Go.” I hadn’t seen anyone outside the arena move so fast.

Stop; shut up! I commanded myself. Stop with the relating everything to the Games!

I didn’t want to know what my expression probably looked like when the President turned to me. “Kizzy, Kizzy. Congratulations on winning the Games.”

She paused like I was supposed to have something to say to this. You killed them. You killed them all, I thought. “Uh; thanks,” was what came out, and I finally felt a bit suspicious, wondering what the President was doing just hanging around here.

She nodded like she was a teacher that I’d just given the right answer, and I tried to not sigh in relief too audibly, getting that too familiar “I might just live for another few minutes” feeling. “Go on with your team and prepare for the celebrations; it’s all in your honor, after all.” She turned, starting to walk off, then whirled around so fast I actually started to duck, like she’d changed her mind and was going to kill me personally after all. Feeling my face turn red, I straightened again as quickly as I could, trying to act like I hadn’t done anything weird. “Oh, by the way―Head Gamemaker Flame wants a word with you. After all this is done, of course. I’ll get you a time.” Those words sounded way too casual, and I didn’t even realize what it meant at first.

Then it hit me: they were going to kill me. They had to. But the Head Gamemaker wanted something from me first. After all this, after everything… I was still going to die. What did they want? I’d been living out of a backpack for all those years, and I didn’t even know where that bag was now. I didn’t have anyone left in my life, know one they’d want me to betray or anything. So what in Panem did the Head Gamemaker have in mind?

It occurred to me that I didn’t even know who the Head Gamemaker was―weird―let alone anything about him or her.

The thought of my death didn’t hit me as hard as the wondering. Maybe I’d just gotten used to it.

It was around that moment that I felt like a huge idiot. The books. I mean, duh. But, now that I thought about it, I didn’t remember anything between collecting them in the arena and waking up here, and I hadn’t seen them since. But I’d read them―part of one, anyways. Was that enough to want me dead, for knowing their stupid joke?

When I had to go through a doorway and was ambushed by the prep team, I realized that I’d been walking down the hallway with Aurelius.

“You’re alive!” one of them squealed, and I literally flinched at the accent. Most people in the Capitol didn’t even have one, by now, but apparently whoever I was talking to―you thought I remembered their names?—did.

“Yeah, so are you,” I said. “‘Hi’ would’ve been fine.” My sarcasm’s gone dry. Great.

The rest of my preparation was a blur, but it seemed to drag. All I knew was that I had a few minutes alone at the end―I didn’t speak “fashion”, or understand half of what was said in a Capitol accent, so I didn’t bother paying attention to the rest.

My outfit for the final celebration wasn’t completely awful, which was a high compliment coming from me. It was like my first interview outfit―

Wait. The first interview. When Edalene died…

I snapped myself back to reality, blinking a few times and using the mirror to adjust the wide black-satin ribbon around my waist.

Then Antara was back to drag me down the hall and to the backstage area that I’d apparently be entering from. “You’re a victor now,” she practically hissed. “So act like it!”

She left, and I could hear the Games Announcer―whatever his name was―preparing the crowd. Seriously? I mean, I’d just woken up a few hours ago, and they were already shoving me on a stage? Cruel. Ha.

I was expecting a bit more warning, but soon the curtains in front of me were starting to open. I blinked at the camera flashes and bright lights, put on my most winning smile, and took a step forwards.

The Hunger Games begin tonight.

An Unsung Song: Kizzy Ericssen, District 6, Victor of the 405 th Hunger Games

It took miracles, a lot of luck, and years of practicing my acting abilities, but somehow I survived the celebrations.

Interview my first night among the living again. Party afterwards where I met a lot of important people whose names I didn’t remember and took a lot of pictures and shook a lot of hands. Slept for a few hours. Woke up, got lectured by Antara all through the breaks in my prep, went to the recap of the Games ceremony (also known as: victor initiation). Slept for a few more hours, had an odd nightmare somehow involving toucan muttations.

By the time I woke up again I was either way tired or going blind, because I felt like I was wearing glasses I wasn’t supposed to―the kind that made me feel tired and hazy. Not to mention irritable, but that was nothing new.

I had a few spare hours to myself, because we weren’t supposed to go back to District Six until that night. I tried to imagine seeing the same district I’d lived in for seventeen years from the view of a victor, of the priveleged. It probably hadn’t changed any.

When I felt like I couldn’t stand the same floor of the Training Center for one more moment, I decided to go up to the Tributes’ Lounge, where I’d seen the Careers singing that one night that felt like a few lifetimes ago. But it really couldn’t have been much more than a week…

What’d changed? Time hadn’t. The Capitol hadn’t. So it had to be me, but I didn’t feel a lot different. A little less stubborn when it came to being independent, maybe, and some killing monster that I wasn’t, but the first was barely noticable for me and the second seemed too surreal to be true.

I was thinking too much when I reached the elevator and almost ran into someone.

I turned evaluative, examining the person in front of me. She was definitely taller than I was, but didn’t look much older―twenty maybe, tops. Definitely Capitol, the features a bit too perfect, indigo streaks weaved into pale blonde hair; but the rest seemed natural, fair skin, dark-green eyes. I knew her, from somewhere. But I didn’t have the slightest clue where.

Then I noticed that she had this sort of sadistic smile on her face that half made me want to kill her, and half made me want to bolt from the room. I knew that however I recognized her, it had to be a bad memory, feeling fear set in.

“Ah, sorry,” she said; I’d completely forgotten that I’d almost run into her. “I don’t think we’ve really met, Kizzy.” She held out her hand. “Lavender Flame, Head Gamemaker.”

“Oh…―oh.” That settled it. I shook her hand. Suddenly I felt really stupid, which I wasn’t a fan of. “Wasn’t I supposed to meet with you?” The words tripped over each other coming out of my mouth, and the instinct to run was coming up again. Why did I bring that up? Would she ask how I knew, so I’d have to tell her about Paylor, about how I’d tried to run, just so it would count as confession and she could kill me?

She nodded, and I froze, thinking it was somehow in answer to my mental questioning. I’d never felt this scared inside the arena. I was supposed to think that I was a victor, I’d done the impossible, beaten all of the odds; talking to someone, Head Gamemaker or not, shouldn’t have bothered me.

Then I slowly registered the next words she said. “I already talked to Antara about it; but it’ll be easier to talk at the Gamemaking Center. I was actually just here to get you.”

I felt like I was laying under this massive stack of bricks that made me trapped and unable to breathe or speak, completely tense and frozen. “Uh. Right.”

Don’t even ask me what happened or what words came out of my mouth over the next ten minutes. All I knew was that an elevator ride, city block, and flight of stairs later, I was sitting on a bench inside a very high-speed, elevated tram, directly across from the girl who’d spent four days trying to kill me.

Okay, calling her a “girl” seemed weird. But seriously, this was the Head Gamemaker? Sure, she scared the life out of me either way, but I didn’t care how many alterations she had done, there was just no way in Panem she was even twenty-five. “How old are you?” I blurted out, then realized that so far, she probably really thought I was an idiot.

She half-smiled. “Nineteen. You’d be amazed where education gets you.”

One of the attendants stopped at our little booth-like area, a bit wide-eyed. “Anything I can get either of you?”

“Nothing for me, thanks,” Flame answered, clearly used to this sort of attention.

“Uh… no… thanks,” I said, and tried to get over the fact that I was somebody now. That every person in Panem probably knew my name. The Games somehow felt like this personal thing that I didn’t have to share with anyone, and yet, the whole world had been watching my every move all the while.

“So, um, what did―do―you want to talk to me about?” I asked, hoping none of the fear showed up on my face. It probably did. I’d bet all my winnings on it. I wasn’t really used to dealing with people.

I watched the Head Gamemaker hesitate for a second. “We’ll be there soon enough.”

I wondered if she was doing this on purpose―making me wait, making me wonder, letting me come to the worst conclusions possible, before she told me of my fate. Maybe it wasn’t going to be a public thing. The headlines could read, Latest Victor Tragically Dies In Accident.

Another memory came to me, of the District Ten mentor that’d died during training. My thoughts from yesterday were back, about the last interview before the Games, what Edalene had started to say but never got the chance to. "Especially those words on the wall that I heard about―Welcome to the―”

Welcome to the… what? Why had Edalene been killed? Why… what was her name, Tara?

The tram came to a stop, and Flame quickly led me off, down another flight of stairs, and across the street to a very complex looking building that I assumed was the Gamemaking Center. I tried to imagine going to work here every day, but couldn’t quite picture it.

Across a lobby, down a rightside hallway, an elevator ride up three floors, a quick left turn, two doors down, left side, “Room 301”, a few feet forwards to sit across the desk from Flame. Exits? One door that I could see, the one we’d come in from, and a wall behind the Head Gamemaker seemingly made of glass. Could you survive a fall from this far up? No, the door was my best bet, she wouldn’t be in my way. But she might’ve been able to outrun me; I’d practically been jogging to keep up with her the whole way here. Plus there was security to think about, cameras. I didn’t care if anyone saw me, though, they’d find out eventually, it was about getting out fast enough. Huh―maybe something at the end of the hall? Better to not take the chance, but... I wasn’t moving yet. Yet.

I quickly learned that Lavender Flame wasn’t exactly my definition of “talkative”. It took her what had to be five hours, but in everyone else’s reality was probably just a few minutes to look ready to say something; and then a few more hours―minutes?―of breathing in and out so slowly I just wanted to scream, Get on with it already, so I can just get out of here!

Apparently this showed up on my face, because Flame said, “Patience, Kizzy; it’s scarcely been a minute.”

I was gripping the arms of the chair I was in so tightly it hurt and had to be affecting my circulation, my jaw clenched. “I just want to know why I’m here,” I said, through gritted teeth. Every part of me was tense, ready for action―not that it was a bad thing, but I was starting to wonder if I was going to be stuck like that for whatever remained of my life.

“I think you know why you’re here.” The words weren’t exactly casual, but they weren’t quite as dramatic, with thunder and lightning in the background, as I’d imagined them to be.

“You want me dead!” I blurted out. “That’s why you’re stalling; you’re waiting for someone to show up here to kill me, I know it! You spent the whole time I was in the arena trying to kill me, and now you hate me because for once, you couldn’t do it!”

She looked amused. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. I’m very impatient, you know.”

Yet you tell me to have patience.

“So now you’ve come to the conclusion that maybe I don’t hate you, that I’m not trying to kill you―”

“I’m not quite there yet.” I tilted my head to the side and grinned over-innocently.

She sighed; this was obviously not a normal situation. “And maybe, I’m trying to help you.”

“Uh-huh. No one helped me when I would’ve wanted it.” I was admitting that. What was wrong with me? “Why now?”

A sharp inhale, an equally sharp exhale, a slight smile. “I think that’s a long story.”

“And I have the bad feeling you brought me here to tell it.”

“That, I did.”

I leaned back in my chair a bit, not relaxing in the slightest. I had a feeling that the sooner I heard whatever it was she was going to say, the faster either someone was going to show up to kill me, or I was going to get out of here. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“What do you think you know about the Dark Days?”

Odd phrasing, I wasn’t liking that; not to mention abrupt, spoken quickly. “Not a lot. I mean, Thirteen rebelled, the Capitol destroyed them, then came the Hunger Games.” Or maybe something else. But, no.

“That’s what you think you know. Now, what do you know?”

“What are you getting at? I’m sick of questions.”

“I know exactly what you read, Kizzy. But let me explain.” I started to argue― “No. Five minutes, that’s all I ask.” Five minutes for you is five hours for me.

“Fine.”

“What the books said isn’t completely accurate; part of the truth, but not all of it. The very beginning is right, the old world was destroyed, and Panem rose to power―the Capitol, and thirteen districts.” I noticed that she was looking down at the desk, and looked to see that there was a document pulled up―weird, all this Capitol stuff―a map with the thirteen original districts, the Capitol, and a ton of empty land. “It started as an underground group.”

“What did―?”

“District Fourteen, it started as an underground group.”

“You mean that stuff was real?” That was loud.

“It wasn’t that secretive, the Capitol knew from the start. But they agreed with the idea of another district being formed. However―” she swivelled her chair, stood up “―they thought the group, as they proposed, wanted the final district to be for the transportation industry. It was too late, when it was discovered the group all wanted to rebel.

“What you read after that, was true.” She started pacing, speed of the steps increasing with her words. “District Fourteen started the Dark Days, and Thirteen got the blame. All a cover-up for when we had to let Fourteen go.” Flame turned slightly to look out the window. “You never admit your own weaknesses, Kizzy.

“But there’s still… the message, hidden in our national anthem.”

District Fourteen will be back. “That’s what the song was. In the book,” I said, and it came out slightly like a question. “But, how―?”

“The coding’s complicated; only solved recently. But, yes; that’s what the music says.”

“And how do you know?” I demanded, jumping to my feet. “Only the President’s supposed to know about that. I thought―” I stopped myself, so full of nervous energy I was shaking. Just shut up, Kizzy… She’s obviously crazy, no point trying to talk sense into her.

“Only the President’s supposed to know, true. But for years there’ve been attempted attacks, since the Dark Days, even. All secret, none of the districts’ concern. But they’re finally changing tactics.”

I was getting the feeling that I didn’t want to know what she was talking about. This just didn’t seem real enough to process.

“They’re slow thinkers, Fourteen. A lesson from the first war―they take their time planning, strategizing. When they act, it’s on their terms.”

And I care because…?

“But President Paylor has sources. She discovered that Fourteen’s planning another attack. Soon; when, we don’t know. But we can’t afford many more close calls. This has to be the last one. So she had a new plan, and I had to be told. We put the only written records in the arena, changed the Quell―”

“It was rigged! I knew―”

“You knew nothing.” The words came out colder than the rest. “You may have suspected, but you didn’t know. You couldn’t have.”

“Why’d you put them in the arena? Everyone sees that.”

She shook her head. “No; the footage was edited. I was the only one outside that arena who ever saw the books after they were placed in, and I did that personally. You’re the third living person in Panem to know all this, Kizzy. Everyone else who ever found out was killed.”

Tara. Edalene. Did their deaths have anything to do with this?

Flame turned to actually face me again, drumming her hand against her desk. “We changed the Quell, half because we were running out of time, and because only one tribute could come out of that arena alive, only one could’ve read the books and lived to tell the tale. Tributes are some of the most easily monitored people in Panem, as near everything they do is on national

television. That’s why we wanted one of you to help us; we’d be sure that you were the right person.”

“How’d you know it was me?” I didn’t mean for it to come out like it did, almost softly, but it was too late to add some snark to it, now. “You did seem quite set on killing me.”

“That was the other Gamemakers,” she corrected, seeming to be examining something out the window. “Something I couldn’t prevent without making it obvious that you were meant to win.” After a pause, she continued, “I knew it would be you when you smiled and waved for everyone at the train station, pretending innocence, but then stole from the gymnasium, blew up the chlorine in all our faces, snuck a knife into the arena. You always had more going on then you let anyone know.”

I felt myself watch the ground a bit; I hadn’t expected her to know all of that. “You let me,” I said, and she nodded.

“Right. I did. Because I knew that if I put a stop to it you’d realize you were being watched, that you were all being watched.” The last three words were slow and deliberate, enunciated as if I didn’t seem to understand. But I did. The Capitol was full of liars.

“We started examining all of the competitors the second your names were called at the Reaping,” she said thoughtfully, tracing a line of fine dust on the window. Then her voice grew more forceful. “We needed someone that people would believe, somone who had endured enough hardship that the districts could relate to them, not a pampered Career. Someone strong enough to help us fight, with enough sanity left to have sense. Someone who isn’t easily persuaded, who isn’t…” She struggled for a moment. “Vulnerable.” Flame―Lavender―turned to face me again.

I wished that I was capable of intelligent speech enough to tell her that she had be a lunatic, saying all this, but all that came out were stammers.

The Head Gamemaker fixed her eyes on mine, and her voice was quiet when she spoke again. “In other words, Kizzy, we needed you.”And in the End:

Devena Stone, District One, Best Friend of Fabian Bloom

It took a whole lot of days, but Shade finally got me out of bed. I spent at least ten minutes trying to get the tear-tracks off my face from last… week? I didn’t even know. It took twice as long to brush out my hair, but what did it matter anymore?

Shade apparently didn’t know what to feel while we walked towards the Justice Building. I didn’t say anything. I’d come up with the plan when it was clear that Fabian wasn’t coming home, and I was old enough to sign the adoption papers myself.

In the old-fashioned office we found ourselves in were me, Shade, and Fabian’s dad, who’d just put his name on the forums to release his custody of Shade. I signed the adjacent stack of papers for adoption, and knew I’d kept my promise.

Voltair “Volt” Kalitlin, District Seven, Brother of Kildaire Kalitlin

Though Mother dove deeper into her depression after Kildaire died, I didn’t think she understood why I cared as well. I’d never met her; I didn’t even know I had a sister, but when someone was called at the Reaping, looking similar enough to me and had the same last name, well… I knew something was up. Traumatized. Speechless. Abandoned.

Does having the same blood tie your emotions together?

Of course I asked about her, and I still wanted to know more, I didn’t want us to just pretend that nothing ever happened. That’s why, when Mother was having a more sane moment, I asked. I talked to Frederick. I asked too many questions that no one wanted to answer, because no one wanted to talk about a girl who died for all the wrong reasons.

Can you die for the right reasons?

Fade Chase, District Two, Sister of Marco Chase

The community home seemed a lot more empty with the loss of just one person. I felt like I was walking through a movie, everything distant and detached; no clear sounds or voices, all vague, except for the one that kept echoing.

"You'd better win."

"No duh.”

"Just come home. For me. Please?"

"I will."

Marco said he’d come home. He’d promised!

And I’d believed him! I couldn’t imagine something actually, really going wrong… I’d thought of heart-pounding close calls and near misses, not something real. Not something that didn’t work out in the end.

I’d wake up and want to scream, Where are you? What happened? Why aren’t you here?

And then I’d pretend it was just a bad dream.

Gage Perolla, District Three, Uncle of Callia Marshan

I’d officially withdrawn from the mayoral election―no matter what happened now, it was over; my term would end at the close of the month. And it was all because of just one day per year―the Reaping. I wouldn’t have been able to be on stage at the event that’d taken away Callia.

Hally said that things would get better; Vince seemed depressed over the loss of his favorite cousin, but said he’d seen it coming all along. I thought we all did; but when it actually happened… was there a part of me that really couldn’t help but think she’d make it home?

Too much to think, I thought. Too much all at once.

Ella Falon, District Five, Mother of Vitality Falon

It was easy to wonder if the other victors had the same problem I did. Here meaning, their child’s other parent wanting them in the Games to “continue the legacy” when you didn’t. Who in their right mind would want their own child in the Hunger Games?

You understood, you knew what that arena was like, what it did to you, how you never really left it. Of course you’d want to protect your child from that.

My little Vitality hadn’t even made it through the bloodbath.

Damn District One.

Talk about “continuing the legacy”. It was just letting the Games go on.

Lyngra Lamont, District Seven, Brother of Ellink Lamont

At the funeral Seven held for the tributes each year, one of the Capitol officials was there to return Link’s district token to us.

I hadn’t been paying attention enough to know he had one.

I wished I had. I wished I’d been nicer to him when he was still alive. Had he died hating me?

We didn’t watch the film on the camera after the service, everyone was too tired and too beaten down. I didn’t want to “talk” about Link with anyone. The only person I felt like discussing Link’s death with, was him.

The next night, I saw Mom watching the film. Lillah and Lidkoan were already there, and soon we all were.

Link had filmed the Games. Just like he always filmed everything.

I was a wreck at the end, wondering what would’ve been different if I hadn’t teased him about making his “stupid little videos”.

President Paylor, The Capitol

Some sacrifices were necessary.

It grew harder and harder to even tolerate the Games once I knew the truth: they were a lie. A cover-up for the bigger picture. The Games, in a way, were doing Fourteen a favor.

They owed us. They owed us everything, and we were damn well ready to take it all back. Just as we should’ve over four-hundred years ago.

But… the children…

We killed our own to lie for people out to destroy us all.

The tributes were sacrifices, another part in all of this. In truth, they weren’t so significant as everyone made them out to be. The only one who mattered was alive; but so many were fixated on those who were gone, who would stay gone forever.

They all had their own story to be told, their own song to sing.

Remember this, dear tributes, I thought:

The Games don’t begin until they end.

END OF BOOK ONE