Alright, I love THG, so I'm making one of my own. You can submit a tribute, as many as you want. Just, please, not the whole dang list of them. Here is your format:












  • Treeden Jones of D12
  • James Andre of D12
  • Tinder Leafs of D10
  • Dusk Shivers of D10
  • Terra Storm of D11
  • Bliss Diamond of D1
  • Cream Donahew of D1
  • Lucy Fighter of D2
  • Ernie Sasalot of D2
  • Jake Dean of D4
  • Jen Dean of D4
  • Krallem Ateep of D3
  • Needreve Ssintak of D3
  • Vriska Serket of D5
  • Karkat Vantas of D5
  • Leisel Hammerman of D6
  • Ruby Steiner of D6
  • Emrick Oak of D7
  • Elexia Calather of D7
  • Thread Young of D8
  • Bobbin Young of D8
  • Marry Blodbath of D9
  • Fido Fiderson of D9
  • Grain Follows of D11

Okay? Okay. If you have any notes or extras, include them. Thank you. If you give compliments or constructive criticism, your tributes chances of survival improve. I shall do POV's, so if you think your tribute isn't getting enough spotlight, let me know!

The slideshow goes in this order, from 1-?

Treeden Jones D12, James Andre D12, Tinder Leafs D10, Dusk Shivers D10, Terra Storm D11,

Add your tribute's pictures if you can!

Tributes of the 36th Hunger Games
District Boy Tribute Girl Tribute Username
One Cream Donahew* Bliss Diamond* Anon...
Two Ernie Sasalot Lucy Fighter Fidofiderson
Three Krallem Ateep Needreve Ssintak Tacosalad1127
Four Jake Dean Jen Dean Hunger games
Five Karkat Vantas Vriska Serket* InsertRandomnessHere
Six Ruby Steiner Leisel Hammerman Fidofiderson
Seven Emrick Oak Elexia Calather* Mywolf~*
Eight Thread Young Bobbin Young* EphedraCharles
Nine Fido Fiderson Marry Blodbath Fidofiderson
Ten Dusk Shivers Tinder Leafs* Firecatcher3
Eleven Grain Follows Terra Storm Mockingjay5
Twelve James Andre* Treeden Jones* Hungergames fan girl

Let's start:

NOTE:: If both of your tributes die early on, I'll do a "ghost perspective" or something. Don't quit reading!

District 1 Reapings:

Bliss Diamond:

My blonde hair flails across my face as I swing back and forth. I close my eyes and hear the tree's limb groan under my weight. "Bliss! Bliss!" I hear a voice call. "Reaping day!" I sigh and jump off of the old wooden swing that has been hanging for as long as I can remember. Ouch. I can already feel splinters in my butt. I run inside and straight to my room. I open my closet and immediately pull out my reaping dress. It's the same one I've worn for the past two years. I bury my face into the shiny, fresh peach colored silk. I inhale. It smells like summer. I quickly change into it and look in the mirror. I've noticeably grown since last Reaping day. The spaghetti straps squeeze my shoulders, and the hemline has gone from at the knees to slightly above the knees. I strap on leather sandals and head out to the square.

Cream Donahew:

Ugh. I hate Reapings. They're so boring. I think I might volunteer this year, to spice it up. I stand patiently in my roped off area, and I spot a member of the cult. I wave him over and say, "I might volunteer. If I don't make it back, you'll be the High Priest. Mkay?" He nods, solemnly. Suddenly, our idiotic escort, "Shayla" comes onstage. I boo loudly. She glares in my direction. To be safe, I duck down. Capitol people can be cruel. She's all bouncy, making her magenta wig slide to the left a bit. Pitiful. "Ladies first!" She trills. I sigh. This lady is hopped up on coffee, or something. "Bliss Diamond!" She shrieks joyfully. A blondie walks onstage, head held high. "I'll take pleasure in representing District one," she says. Psh. Yeah right. As she dips her hand into the boy's bowl, I brace myself to yell as loud as I can. I'm shocked by the tribute. "Cream Donahew!" Well, maybe I don't have to volunteer. This looks good.

District 2 Reapings:

Garneria Muchan:

Being an escort is great. I've been an escort four years now, and I've had a victor! It's great that I get such a strong, willing district. I wait in the Justice Building, making costume adjustments. Leopard skin shirt. Red, stretchy, shiny pants. Aquamarine lipstick. 7 inch black high heels. Loads of jewelry. Curly, long yellow tresses adorned with flashing diamonds. I look great! I hear the mayor, Mayor Sassafras or something finish the Treaty of Treason. Then, I bounce onstage, giddy and light. I see that the kids look excited, eyes gleaming like pools of oil. I think I might have some winners this year! Or, a winner. It depends. I say, "Who's ready to Reap?" They scream in delight. I strut to the ladies bowl and fish around, then pick a strip, adding to the suspense. Then, I say the name. "Lucy Fighter!" A delighted shriek rises from the crowd and I see a bouncy blonde girl with shining green eyes emerge. She laughs like an air head and bounces onstage. "Yaaaaay!" She exclaims. Hopefully the boy won't be a ditz like her. I skip over to the men's bowl and grab the first slip I touch. I say the name immediately. "Ernie Sasalot!" The boy's parents made a mistake naming him "Ernie" His name should be "killer" or something! He's got black hair, black eyes, and a look that says, "I'll kill you." I don't know about my tributes, but between the two, we might have another D2 victor. I hope.

District 3 Reapings:

Krallem Ateep:

I smile and try to catch the attention of Beetee, last year's Hunger Games victor. From our district, too! He was fifteen when he won by electrifying his opponents. How cool. He looks around at the crowd, and his eye catches on me! I wave, and he gives a shy smile and waves back. For sixteen, he's remarkably small. He could be fourteen. But he's not. Our escort comes in, but she's lacking the verve she had last year. Why? She got to escort a victor! She smiles weakly and says, "Gentlemen first." Men first? It's generally girls first! Oh well. She kind of dumps her hand into the globe marked, "Boys." She reads it silently with a bored expression on her face. Then, she looks up and her mouth opens. "Krallem Ateep." She grimaces. Oh, wait! That's my name! I run onstage. I feel queasy. I snatch a glance at Beetee. I wanted to meet him, but not as my mentor...

Needreve Ssintak:

"Come here, boy! Come 'ere!" I bend down to pet my dog, Sasha. "Good boy! Good boy!" I trot inside and he follows me. I am suddenly reminded that today's Reaping day. Our district has an advantage, we have a fresh Victor! I get changed into a simple, knee length midnight blue dress. I love this dress. I look at the clock. Oh Wattsills! I'm five minutes late for the Reaping! "Bye Sasha, be a good boy." I say. My family must be at the Reaping already! I rush through the streets of our District. Past the electricity generator, the music chip factory, a dozen homes, I run so fast I almost miss the square! I sneak into my roped area. Luckily, something has changed. Only the boy tribute's up there. I catch my breath and wait for our escort to call the other name. I'm so busy looking at everyone's Reaping day faces and outfits, I almost miss the name. It's my name. I trot onstage.

District 4 Reapings

Jen Dean:

I love the cool blue rush of District four's sea. I open my eyes in the salty, blue green abyss and watch my bubbles float up to the top. I whip my beautiful, blonde hair around, the speed decreased by the fluid. I feel serene, but then I hear a distorted, "Jen! Jennylou!" but it sounds like, "Fen! Fennypoo!" I angrily surface to see my brother standing on shore. "WHAT DO YOU WANT? I'M TRYING TO SWIM HERE!" I scream. "It's Reaping day!" He says with equal venom in his voice. "I KNOW, I WASN'T BORN YESTERDAY! Why do we even need to go? It's not like we'll be picked. We didn't get Tesserae!" I question. "It's required, genius" he hisses. I kick sand at him for good measure and stalk to the house, him trailing behind me. In my room, I strip myself of my watery clothes and sink into my soft, blankety bed. "JEN! TIME TO GO!" I hear my brother shout from the kitchen. I rush, brushing and drying and dressing all at once. I then casually meander out, as though I have all the time in the world. "You're an idiot, you know that?" My brother says mockingly. "I know you are, but what am I?" Oldest comeback in the book. I toss my hair and saunter out the door.

Jake Dean:

My sister is a ditz. And not good at comebacks, either. I huff out to the porch, where she stands, back turned. Let's go," I say nonchalantly. We head off the porch and start walking to the square. We live only one block away, so the voyage took less than 2 minutes. We both seperate into the seperate 18 year old sections. I tune out the Treaty of Treason and the escort's arrival, as well as the escort's "dramatic" picking of the ladies. I stare at nothing until I hear a blurb of a name. Jen Dean. I hear loud swearing from my sister's general location. " I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE REAPED!" She shrieks. She storms on stage, defiant look on her face, and immediately crosses her arms. The escort literally dances to the men's bowl. Honestly, I think he's trying too hard. I anticipate the next tribute's calling. I feel bad for whoever's going against my sister. And then, I hear my name being called. I slink onstage and glare at Jen. She glares right back. Out of no where, the escort pops inbetween us. "I'll bet you know each other!" He grins. "We're twins." I hiss. I want to rip the smile right off of his face. Jen looks the same. "District four, your twin tributes!"

District 5 Reapings

Previous victor:

I hate the Hunger Games. Because of them, I lost a friend, my sanity, and dozens of children I've had to mentor. I've lost myself in Morphling and Coffee, they're how I stay alive. The only time I'm not attached to an IV or a coffee cup is when I'm mentoring. I've had so many kids come close but then die in the end. I can never forgive myself for it. That's why, as I sit onstage on this hot day, I wish I had tablet of my sweet friend, Morphling. The escort, Vinnia and I have worked so hard to acheive what we have. And that is.... one victor. I have had one victor In all the 20 years I've mentored. She was great. She won, but died shortly after of "unknown causes." If she were still alive, I wouldn't be out here. I'd be sleeping off a double dose of painkiller. Unfortunately, pain killer doesn't kill emotional pain. I embrace myself for the tributes this year. Vinnia comes out, peppy as ever, Capitol accent ablaze. She does the typical greeting, met with mild applause. She calls the girl first. A fiesty looking girl by the name of Vriska Serket. She might have a chance. The boy is Karkat Vantas, who looks like his face is stuck in a permanent frown. He should try Morphling. It'd do him good. I groan as I get up, off of my chair, joined by my partner Mentor, Julianna. We both look at each other, our faces displaying our hopes for the tributes. I slowly walk into the Justice building and prepare for the weeks ahead.

District 6 Reapings:


Although Leisel is not my own daughter, I love her like one. Her brother died, she left her mother, how sad can it get? Her best friend, Ruby, helps her when I can't. She's such a smart intelligent girl. So when both she and Ruby were picked to participate in this year's Hunger Games, I freaked. I ran around, smashing dishes, weeping, shouting. I hate the Hunger Games. I told my daughter to come back home. She told me to try, but she said it with a quivering lip. I told Ruby that if Leisel dies, than He needs to come home. He agrees, but then says he plans on Leisel coming home, not him. "She's so tough, she's like a nut. It'd be hard to crack her." He whispered. I hugged him. "I know" I whisper back. One of them needs to win.

District 7 Reapings

Emrick Oak:

It was not the whistling of the wind, or the chime of the square clock that woke me up, but the smell of bacon. My family never has bacon. We can't afford it. My nose twitches at the smell and I cautiously, as though the bacon might be a trap, get out of bed. I sniff again. Mmmmm. Bacon. I've only ever tasted it once. It was salty and crisp. I trail the smell to the kitchen, where mom and my brothers, Marlow and Carmicheal sit. There is bacon sizzling in the pan that mom is stirring. "Hey...... mom." I say. "Where'd the bacon come from?" My mother looks up at me. "The butcher was feeling kind, so he gave us bacon in exchange for a pile of cedar." I sit down next to Carmicheal and almost drool. "Where's dad?" I ask. "Oh, he went out to work early." She replied. He's a lumberjack, my dad is. Nearly everyone in the District is. "Eat up quick, we've got a Reaping to attend!" says Marlow with a hint of sarcasm in his deep voice. He's 5 years older than me, he's 22. Carmicheal is 26. I eat my serving of bacon slowly, savoring it's flavor. I might not ever have it again. After all, I may be Reaped. You never know, since I sign up for Tesserae for 5 people. I'm the only one in my family who still can. After the bacon is gone, I stare expectantly at my plate, as if more might appear. Then, snapping out of my hungry daydream, I put my plate in the sink. Then, I wash up and follow my brothers outside.

Elexia Calather:

As I walk to the District square, I see Emrick and his brothers. I stare a little too long though, and Emrick sees me. He ducks his head down quickly in shame. We were friends when we were little, but then he started hanging out with Maple, a despicable girl who's as beautiful as all get out. Talk about airhead, too. I can't stand her! GAAAHH! Even thinking about Maple make me sick! I storm away, to the 16 year old section. I'm so steamed at him that I miss the escort's entrance. Oh well, he's stupid anyway. Then, I hear giggling. Familiar giggling. I whirl around, and come face to face with Maple. She locks her eyes on mine and trills, "Hey Elexia! I like your dress today!" I look down, and realize I'm not wearing a dress. I fling my head up and Maple's giggling snarkily. "Hahahahahha you fell for it, loser!" Did I mention she was mean, too? My anger builds up as I remember all the mean things she's done. Then I lose it. I scream, and my hand finds it's way to her face. I slap her, and she cries out. Literally, the whole roped off section turns. Oh no. This is so unlike me! I don't slap people! She narrows her brows and attempts to slap me back, but I dodge her hit. She screams and tackles me, but I scoot and bump into another girl. Maple hits the ground and lifts herself feebly with her arms, but I'm quick and I'm sitting on her before she's up. I whisper in her ear, "Not so funny now, huh, Maple?" She grunts in reply and tries to knock me off by wiggling, but I hold my ground. I'm so horrified but pleased with myself. I never fight, but I'm standing my ground before Maple. It has it's pros and cons. The escort and peacekeepers have noticed, and peacekeepers are marching in. One lifts me off of Maple, and the other picks her up by her arms. I'm screaming and she's screaming and we're both looking like idiots. "I hate you!" I yowl. "I hate you more!" she shrieks. The peacekeepers set us on seperate sides of our section and continue with the Reapings. Not to my surprise, I know the name. This was probably set up. It's me.

District 8 Reapings:


Ugh. I hate this job. It's not even a job. More like punishment. I had to leave my home, the Capitol, and stay here, in this rotten district. Some of my co-workers are from district two, but I'm supposed to act like they come from the Capitol. It's a secret, you know? So here I am, on a sultry, hot day, standing on the square. I adjust my white collar. It's itchy. I straighten my Peacekeeper pin and prepare for the flow of people. A few are already here, milling around. The rush will come in 10 minutes or so. I hope it's not chaotic. Last year, it was. The girl who was Reaped ran off, and I was the one who had to sedate her. Talk about hard. That girl could run. Thank goodness she's dead now. She made it a while though, final four. Was killed off by the victor. Electric trap or something. Poor kid. Wait, why am I thinking that? I hate district kids. The Capitol is the place to be. I love the Hunger Games. They're the best form of entertainment. It makes me mad that I have to tell myself this. Arround the expected time, people flood in. Rich, poor, ugly, beautiful, all there. A sea of brunette heads and chocolate eyes, with an occasional splash of blonde and red hair, blue eyes maybe, a strawberry birthmark. It doesn't matter. They're all filthy district rats. I've only got 12 years left until my contract is done, then I'll return to the Capitol. I half listen as the mayor says the Treaty of Treason. Then, the Reapings begin. The girl tribute is about to be called when a frantic woman runs up to me, eyes crazed with fear. "Sir? Have you seen my daughter?" she cries out. "I-I'm afraid not 'mam." I stutter. "Where is she?" She says to no one in particular. Then, she weaves through the crowd, calling, "Bobbin? Bobbin? Bobbin!?!?" I feel bad. A name is called, then a startling change of events happens. A young voice calls out, "I volunteer!" A volunteer? Really? A small, skinny girl with shiny hair walks onstage head held high. She can't be fourteen. And yet, she's volunteering! She says, "I'll be proud to serve my district and WIN!" She says the last word with such ferocity and vigor, even I'm scared of her. Then, the woman I conversed with yells, "BOBBIN! NO!" The girl whips her head to the woman. "No mom, I'm going, whether you like it or not! And I'll win!" The mother steps back, shocked. She stares down her daughter, and I can see tears in her eyes, then she storms off to the back of the crowd, wailing. What a disturbance. Suprisingly, the boy's a volunteer, too. He walks up to the little girl and hisses, "Think you could outdo me, little sis?" Oh no. Siblings. This is bad. Very bad.

District 9 Reapings:

Fido Fiderson:

"TERRY! TERRY YOU LITTLE BRAT STOP SOAKING MY UNDERWEAR IN COLD WATER!" I screech. I found a lovely surprise this morning when getting dressed. My underwear were freezing! From her room, I hear snickering. "I'm going to kill you!" I yell. "You wouldn't!" she saunters by me. It takes all I've got not to wring her little throat. I storm after her, but she's nowhere to be found. Then, I hear slight giggling from a closet I just passed. I rip open the door, but Terry's nowhere to be found. "TERRY!" I roar. Then I storm off.

Terry Fiderson:

There's a hole in the wall, but Fido doesn't know about it. I'm hiding in it when he storms in. He shuts the door and I sneak back to my room. I snicker. He's so stupid. And he's not even good at pole dancing. I lock the door so he can't come in. Hehe. Then, I climb out my window and start heading to the Reapings. Reapings suck, because my brother Harry died on the first day two years ago, when I was thirteen. I get to the square and meet my friend Marry. She's older than me by four months, she just turned 16 a month ago. I stand on the edge of my rope, and she on the edge of hers. We talk. I have no idea when Fido gets there, but I know he is. That's because his name is called! Like Harry! Then, I pray for the girl who's going up against him, it won't be pretty. He'll probably pole dance. I listen intently for the name. I'm shocked at the name. Fido just might kill me. Because it's me! I hear an "I volunteer!" close by. Then, Marry runs onstage. No! Marry can't go up against my brother! No! Not happening. But as they're marching to the Justice building, I realize, it is happening. My best friend and my brother might both die.

District 10 Reapings:

Aspen Leafs:

A twitching sensation comes across my semi-concious mind. My eyes flutter open, still groggy from sleep and I see Dawn sitting next to me, tickling me with a bird feather. "Dawn!" I say, with a hint of laughter in my voice. "Where'd you get the feather?" I question curiously. She makes an exaggerated moan face and starts, but I cut her off. "Tinder brought in another animal, didn't she?" Dawn's face proves it. Tinder's always bringing in injured, sick animals from the woods. I don't like the woods. Mom died there. Tinder was with her. Mauled by a bear. Some nights, I can feel Tinder thrashing, mumbling words about bears. Poor Tinder. The nightmares must never end. I slink off the bed and stretch. Dawn joins me, her blonde hair flailing over her pale face. She looks so different from Tinder, but they're so alike, it's not even funny. Today's Reaping day. Only one more year until I'm eligible for the Hunger Games. I don't even want to think about it. I follow Dawn downstairs to meet the bird.

Tinder Leafs:

The poor bird looked terrible. Feebly flapping, tweeting half-heartedly. I put it in my basket and ran back home. Dawn and Aspen loved it. It's recovering quickly from whatever happened to it. I put it on a towel and head with Dawn and Aspen and Father to Reaping day. Dawn and I stand together, talking about everything. The Treaty of Treason flashes by as Dawn and I are occupied with who has the cutest sheep: Mr. Rolands or Mr. Carles. We said Mr Carles. I almost missed my name. On the strip. That was called! Dawn and I stare at each other in horror, and Dawn starts, "I volu-" "NO YOU DON'T!" I screech desperately. "You won't volunteer for me!" She starts tearing up. I hug her and walk on stage. She starts to bawl. Oh, Dawn. Take care of Aspen when I'm dead.

District 11 Reapings:

Fluffums, Terra's cat:

Why is no one feeding me? I'm hungry. And I don't like having to catch my food. I sit patiently until the girl comes downstairs, then, I mew pitifully. Her face twists into frustration and pity. I think I may have scored when she picks me up to cuddle me, but then, she brings me out to the barn and dumps me on the ground. Dust flies up as I meow angrily. She gives me a pat on the head and says, "You can get food yourself and you know it." I'm about to do my pitiful mew when I detect the quiver in her voice, her fearscent, the struggled neutral face. Something's wrong with the girl. I rub up against her legs and she bends down to pet me. As she's stroking me, I feel not only her hand, but drops of warm water. I lift my head to see that the water is coming from her eyes. I lick it off my fur. Ick. Eye water is salty. The girl is worried. Sad, even. I purr and butt my head into her. She snuggles me and says, "It's Reaping day, Fluffums." Reapings? The girl gets up, turns, and heads out of the barn to the house.

Grain Follows:

I finger the anklet nervously as I wait for the Reapings to begin. It was Marie's. My father is somewhere in the crowd. I search for him, but only find a crowd of unrecognizable faces. I'm alone in a crowded place. How ironic. I can't stand it. I wait anxiously as the Mayor reads the Treaty of Treason, the Escort pops in, the Escort reads the girl's name. Then, I snap out of it as a woman's hoarse voice, the sea of time sweeping away it's youth at every wave. She cries out to the girl on stage, "TERRA! TERRA, NO! NO!!" She goes hysteric, pushing people to get to her daughter. A duo of Peacekeepers grab her by the arms and drag her out. That is the last we see of her, I have no idea where she is now. The girl, who is young, is tearing up at her mother's removal. I stand, alert, ready for the boy's reapings to begin. "Hollow Kreshen!" The Escort cheers. A tiny boy, looking like an eight year old limps onstage. He has an injured foot. Something has to change. This boy will be the first one dead. "I volunteer!" I shout. The boy turns his head, his face brimming over with relief and gratitude. He hobbles offstage and I take his place. When the escort asks my name, I say in an unwavering voice, "Grain Follows." I am ready. To avenge Marie's death. To kill all the Careers. To win.

District 12 Reapings:

James Andre:

"Licorice goes here, gumdrops there, lemon drops..." I sort the candy and prepare for tomorrow, although it's only six in the morning. It's Reaping day, so we don't get a lot of customers, so every year we just prepare for the day after. Candy sales are not high here in 12 since no one can afford it, but we're the hotspot for birthdays. Unsurprisingly, no body has a birthday on Reaping day. I'm sure that even if someone did, the parents would lie to them and make it a few days after, officially. It'd be sad to have a birthday on Reaping day. "James?" my father calls. "Yes? I'm sorting candy." I call to the back room where he is. "Oh. Okay then. Continue what you were doing." I watch out the window as people walk by, heading in one direction: Town Square. They talk, they laugh, they cry, they skip, they do everything as they pass by. People watching is one of my favorite things to do here at the shop. I see a young girl walk by, trailing behind her mother, eyes wide and mouth gaping. I remember how I felt at my first reaping...

James Andre, age four:

There's A LOT of people here. They all seem sad. I wonder why. Why are they sad? I don't know. Mommy holds my hand and we stand there in the group of people. People bend down and tell me "Hello." They are so big. I hide behind mommy. A crazy lady comes out. She has pink hair! That's funny! She goes to a big glass ball like we hold sweets in at mommy and daddy's store. I like sweets. They taste good. And yummy. Did I already say they were good? She says a name. A pretty girl walks onstage. She's crying! Why is she crying? She gets to be onstage! I want to be onstage! It seems fun. You can see all the people. Then she calls another name. Then, a boy with blonde hair walks up onstage. He looks unhappy too. Why are they unhappy? They are on the stage, next to crazy lady and the mayor. My mommy says she had a crush on the mayor once. What's a crush? I don't know. The mayor reads a long long time and then the boy and girl walk into the big building. Mommy looks sad now. Why is she sad? I don't know.

Treeden Jones: I am running through the woods, something chasing me. What is it? It’s bigger than a dog. Much bigger! I run, panting, looking for a tree to climb, but all of them disappear once I reach them. I feel the creatures hot breath like steam on my neck, the hair on my throat tingles. I scream, looking for a way out. HOW DO I GET AWAY? Somebody help me! The creature is close, growling. I stumble over a twig and roll to the ground. I try to retain my footing, but the creature is sitting on me! It’s sitting on me! It’s saying..... "Treeden! Treeden! Wake up, Treeden!!!" My eyes burst open like ripe raspberries. My youngest brother, Levverly, is sitting on me. His little 4 year old face stares at me. "TREEDEN!!" He giggles. "Levverly! You scared me!" I half shriek, half laugh. "Ugh, get off, fatty!" I joke, but he's anything but fat. None of my brothers are fat. I feel like I'm surrounded by testosterone. I have five brothers and one dad. No sisters or mom. It's frustrating how stupid they can be. My other little brother, Minnow, bounces in. "Levverly!" He whines. "It was my turn to wake her up!" I roll my eyes. Just because Minnow's three years older than Levverly, it doesn't mean he's more mature. "Ugh. Get out of my room, boys. Girl time." They both wrinkle their noses and say, "Eeeeeew!" in unison. They are so cute. I get changed and brush my hair. Then, I walk out my door and yell, "Mica, Lark, Take the little ones for a walk!" My two older brothers poke their heads out of the boy's room. Is everything in this family synchronized? "Mkay." says Lark. They call out "Minnow, Levverly, Finn, let's go for a walk." Three little calls of "Yay!" emanate from various places in the house. "To the Square." I whisper. "Got it." says Mica. Sometimes I feel like I own the house, being the only girl and all. I'm teaching Finn to hunt, but he gets distracted really easily. I brush my hair again and take the shortcut to the Reaping areas. I run through yards and streets. Not like anyone in the Seam cares if I cut through their yard.

At the Square, I meet acquaintances from school. Quick hellos and heys are given, none stick though. I'm not very friendly. Not mean though. Just.... not friendly. Time zooms by. Minutes turn to seconds and seconds turn to flashes. I'm in my super speed wonderland when I hear my name. "Treeden Jones." I look up. Who's calling me? "Yeah?" I answer. Then, the realization sets in as fast as time was a moment ago. Nobody's calling me to say "hey!" or "What's up?" I've just been Reaped.

James Andre:The girl, Treeden, looks frazzled and confused. I think she looks pretty nonetheless. I've never met her before. They're picking the boy now. I hope it's not one of my friends. That would suck. Then, BAM! My wish is granted. It's not one of my friends. It's me. I walk onstage and give Treeden a shy hello. She smiles back. She's even more pretty up close. I think I might melt in those gray eyes. Oh no. I'm not supposed to be dreaming about my partner's eyes. I'm supposed to be plotting her death.

Chariot Rides

The night of the Chariot rides, a survey was passed around technologically. The crowd gave the Chariots ratings out of ten, one, bad, ten, amazing. Here are the results:

District one:

Was all about diamonds! Bliss's dress was a tangle of strung diamonds, strips of skin shown between thickly beaded strands. Very provacative and interesting. Cream was wearing a tuxedo that sparkled in the light, but he looked unhappy and frumpy. The crowd gave it a 6.

District 2:

Lucy had on a form fitting dress that was designed to look like granite, and she looked nice in it, but the audience saw no creativity. No body knew what Ernie's costume was all about, as it was a black jumpsuit with spikes on the shoulders, neck, and calves. The confused audience gave it a 4.

District 3:

Looked flashy to say the least! Needreve was dressed in a cute but revealing shirt that cut off at the ribs that blinked and beeped with a short skirt that did the same. Krallem had a black jumpsuit that lit up neon clors at random intervals. The amazed Capitol citizens gave them and 8.

District 4:

Jen and Jake were scaly merpeople/fish. No one could tell but no one cared. Both were beautifully colored, scaled and done! They looked amazing! Citizens gave this stunning duo an 8.

District 5:

Since D5's (pretend) industry is furniture and hardware, Vriska and Karkat were dressed in silver and wood-pattern attire. Karkat, though, was wearing a crab hoodie... not in character of the District's industry. Vriska, though, looked so stunning and shiny, the crowd couldn't tell if she was a robot or not! It's worth a 6, people say.

District 6:

D6, medical science had it going on! Leisel was dressed as a strynge. She had on a little hat shaped like the pushy thingy of a strynge and was wearing an opaque dress of glass. The glass had two layers, the inner filled 3/4 with an aquamarine liquid. Ruby was costumed with a glass suit running with a cobalt blue liquid. The audience thought this was neat, but when the liquid changed color to fiery red, they were astonished. They cheered and clapped hysterically. Leisel and Ruby scored a 9.

District 7:

Elexia had a dress made of leaves that whistled in the wind. She looked gorgeous, like a fairy. She had subtle makeup and had glitter somehow suspended in animation around her. The audience was curious as to how the stylist did this. Emrick looked a bit uncomfortable next to Elexia, but his outfit was very similar, just a tuxedo, not a dress. The bemused citizens gave it an 8.

District 8:

Bobbin and Thread wore a dress and jumpsuit of what looked like ugly fabric. The crowd prepared to boo when the fabric changed color and pattern. It did this continually, and the pattern was never the same. The crowd was fixed, wanting to know what came next. They scored a 7.

District 9:

District nine always seems to be boring. This year it seemed the same. Fido and Marry came out in black jumpsuits, apparently posing as oil (D9's "industry") Then, the jumpsuits started to pool and ripple, shine and leech out. The crowd saw no originality, but they liked it. Marry and Fido scored a respectible 5.

District 10:

Tinder and Dusk were dressed as livestock. Tinder was fluffy and white, a sheep. She looked generally happy. She waved her little black hooves and caught and blew kisses. The crowd saw great character in this girl. Dusk looked handsome as a rooster, streching his wings and strutting. He wasn't cocky or self confident, though. He just had a cool air. The crowd rated them on their attitudes rather than costumes. They scored an 8.

District 11:

Poor District 11. How pitiful they looked this year. They were dressed as fruits, Terra a raspberry, Grain an apple. Neither looked happy with the bulky costumes. The crowd didn't, either. They scored a sad 2.

District 12:

Finally a change from the usual coal miner's outfits! Treeden and James were smoke: a by-product of burning coal. They wore grey costumes and smoldered, smoke rising up off of them. Although the crowd couldn't see their faces, they cheered and blew kisses to where they knew their faces would be. The audience loved the change. The duo from Twelve scored a very respectable 7.

Training Scores:

District 1:

Cream Donahew: 9 Bliss Diamond: 8

District 2:

Ernie Sasalot: 8 Lucy Fighter: 8

District 3:

Krallem Ateep: 3 Needreve Ssintak: 6

District 4:

Jake Dean: 9 Jen Dean: 7

District 5:

Karkat Vantas: 6 Vriska Serket: 8

District 6:

Ruby Steiner: 4 Leisel Hammerman: 5

District 7:

Emrick Oak: 8 Elexia Calather: 9

District 8:

Thread Young: 9 Bobbin Young: 8

District 9:

Fido Fiderson: 2 (apparently the gamemakers aren't poledancing fans) Marry Blodbath: 3

District 10:

Dusk Shivers: 7 Tinder Leafs: 8

District 11:

Grain Follows: 10 Terra Storm: 6

District 12:

James Andre: 8 Treeden Jones: 8


The arena is diamond in shape, 8 miles long at it's longest point and 4 miles wide at it's widest point. The arena is broken into 4 equal sized sub-climates. There is also a fifth, smaller sub-division in the center of the arena. The smallest sub-climate is a grassy field and contains the cornucopia. The north-west sub-climate consists of a beautiful, flowery field with sparse trees that are easy to climb. There are also large rocks scattered about. The north-east sub-climate is mountains, three of them, with a freezing point temperature. The mountains look hard to climb, but if you go around one (it takes a looong time to) you'll se that there are paths carved in. The south-west sub-climate is a temperate forest abundant with animals. It contain many traps, though, and if you're not careful, you could die any moment. The last, south east quarter is a desert. At the very end of the quarter, near the edge of the arena, is a large lake. It, other than a few tiny mountain streams and possible dew/rainwater, is the only source of the water in the arena. It does rain occasionally, maybe every week or so, but when it does, it rains hard. The arena contains only a few muttations, but many poisonous plants and such.

Muttations and poisons:

Muttations include:

.A wombat-like creature that follows you around, taunting you and messing with you. Once it drives you to insanity, it finishes you off. It dwells in the flowery field and forest.

.a snake with legs that can run very fast. On the end of it's tail it has a stinger full of poison. You have to be fast to escape death. It dwells under the sand in the desert quadrant, so don't disturb it by walking with heavy tread!

.Jabberjays. They just irritate you to insanity and leave you to die. They also give away your location. Lives in all four quadrants and cornucopia field.

Poisons include:

. Poison Ivy

. Poison Oak

. Poisonous Berries

. Fruits that are deadly inhaled or eaten

. Poisoned chambers that are released like pods.

Tribute's outfit:

The tribute's outfit consists of a green long sleeved shirt, white shorts over grey leggings that come mid-calf, orangey boots that meet the leggings, socks, and undergarments. Here is a picture:

IMG 0152

The tribute's arena outfit.


Bobbin Young, D8, Hovercraft:

My stylist stares sadly at nothing. I walk over and hug her. "It's okay." I whisper. "No it's not." She chokes out. Her eyes get all shiny from the tears trying to force their way out. "You have to go into the Hunger Games. And your brother. Only one person can live. Either one or both of you is going to die." She sniffles, tears coming out, streaking her face with the paint of pain. "You were the best tributes I've had." She cries. I settle in next to her and we sit, me holding her, her holding me. We talk about home. She says that she has a pet dog named Rosco. I tell her about the time that Thread thought he could impress a girl by singing, but he sounded horrible. I do an imitation of him. Then, we both start laughing so hard that we start to choke. I'm gasping for air and my chest hurts. I grab a water bottle and chug some down, but it comes back up, because I'm still laughing. This makes us laugh even more. We don't even notice the windows darkening. I eventually calm down, and eat some food. A few crackers and cheese, a bit of chicken, some water (that I do not spit up this time). Then, when a woman's voice tells me to stand on the plate, I do. I give my stylist one last hug and let the glass close around me like a net. I take deep breaths. I realize that I am ready. And as the light brightens and my plate lifts, I know I need to win.

Krallem Ateep, D3, Metal plate:

The arena doesn't surprise me. Well, only parts of it do. There are woods, and a flowery field, mountains, and when I twist my head, I see a desert. I didn't expect a desert. I sigh and stare at the cornucopia. It's stockpiled with life. Food, medicine, weapons, backpacks, all kinds of death toys. I stare at the tributes surrounding me. To my right, the girl from D9. To my left, some tall, red haired boy with dark skin. He looks freaky and vicious. He must be a career. Oh, darn it. Next to a career. He'll kill me for sure. Unless I run. But I need the supplies. Am I willing to risk my life for it though? I'll surely die without them! Then, I see the boy who was next to me charging at me with a deadly looking sword. Oh no. I must have missed the gong. I run towards the desert, looking back every few seconds. I trip, and the world turns and heaves. I see his deadly face above mine. He smiles and says, "Better luck next time." He shoves his sword into my abdomen, and the yellow light of the sun turns black.

Marry Blodbath, D9, Cornucopia:

I run, immediately to the forest. I need no supplies. I'm almost at the forest's edge when a force knocks me to my chest, then flips me over. I squint in the sunlight and see black. Not all black. But black hair, black eyes, I can even tell that his heart is black. He lifts his hand, and I see long metal talons gleaming in the sun. They shine like coins. He hisses, "Did you think that running away would save you?" In response, I spit in his face. He wipes it away in disgust and, almost gently, rakes his claws along my cheek. "Think again." He purrs. He looks down me, as if deciding which part to cut first. "What, am I meat now?" I say slyly. "Why yes, my darling, you are." He purrs again. The last thing I can feel is searing pain down my chest and a warm trickle of my own blood.

Leisel Hammerman, D6, Cornucopia:

I watch him kill the girl. I should have stopped him, but I came short at their almost friendly conversation. I was too late to save her from her terrible death. Then, I grab the knife I had in hand and charge him. I stab him in the back. He tries to claw me, but I keep stabbing. Up, down, up, down, up, down. A repetitive movement. I almost down feel bad as his limp body slides from my hands and lands on the blood stained grass. I almost don't feel bad when I see his blood on my hands. But I do. I have killed someone. And now, I have to get out before someone kills me.

Bliss Diamond, D1, Cornucopia:

I hungrily look for a victim. I see the D11 boy pausing, as if thinking. Perfect. I run, and launch myself into the air. I land square on his back. I raise my knife to stab him, but he punches me in the face. I fall and hit the ground with a clunk. He whirls, and his eyes lock on me. He looks as though he wants to kill me a thousand times over. I scrabble to run, but he gets there first. He bends down and his rough, dry hands meet my neck. He lifts me up like a ragdoll and squeezes. My eyes feel pressure and I think I might black out. I start seeing spots and I can't scream. I can feel myself losing air. I am about to die. Then, my hope comes. "Bliss? Bliss!"

Cream Donahew, D1, Cornucopia:

Where is Bliss? I can't find her! I do a 360 and I don't see anything. Then, my eye catches on Grain Follows. He's throttling someone. He's throttling...... BLISS! "Bliss? Bliss!" I call. Her eyes flicker to me. I grab a sword from my belt. I run. I stab Grain. He falls, clutching his ribs. I hope I punctured a rib. I leave him to suffer. Bliss slowly climbs to her feet and smiles. I can the the black and blue marks on her neck. "Thanks for saving me." She says. I scowl. "Real careers don't need help." Her smile falls. "Oh. Okay." She saunters off. I look to the sun. Is this what you give me? I ask angrily. Then, I join the fight once more.

Grain Follows, D11, Cornucopia:

Searing pain. It hurts so bad. I clutch my ribs and gasp when I feel the sticky red fluid. I collapse first to my knees, then I just flop on the grass. I stroke the grass absently. I know I will die. Is this how Marie felt when she died? Or was it more painful? Will my father miss me? Will he even be sober enough to notice? I can barely feel my heart. I stroke the grass still, but it has lost it's feeling. I can feel the darkness come. The last thing I can hear is Marie's sweet laughing. Oh Marie. I've come to you at last.

Bobbin Young, D8, Cornucopia:

I run, grabbing supplies hurriedly. I grab a backpack, a knife, and I even wrestle a girl for a large packet of dried fruit. I come out successful. I pause to put all my supplies in my backpack, but then I see something. My brother Thread, punching another girl who has a backpack. She punches him right back. Then, I see something else. A career, blonde hair flowing, heaving a stick. No, not a stick, a SPEAR! I watch as the spear makes impact, spurting a small amount of blood. I watch as the girl goes to retrieve her spear. I watch as a boy carelessly tramples on the victim. And as I walk away, my eyes well up. That is the last I will ever see of my brother. He was never caring or sympathetic, but there's no stronger bond than family. And now, thanks to the Hunger Games, the strongest knot has been broken.

Vriska Serket, D5, Cornucopia:

The boy punches me. I punch him right back. Then..... he gets hit with a spear. I gag at the sight and run off with the backpack. Gross. As I run, I punch another kid for good measure. I call this move: The running punch. How original. I run off to the flowery field. I never liked flowers. Now, I can eat them or something. Yum, flowers for breakfast. I run for about, I don't know.... half a mile. Then, I nearly run into a good-sized flat rock. I get mad and am about to scream at it, but then, two things happened: A, this could be a great lookout and camp, and B, it's not even like the rock could hear me. So, I settle down on my humongous rock and sit.

Tinder Leafs, D10, Cornucopia:

I literally have to drag Dusk out of there. He's cut up bad, and he's stabbed in the back. I drag him to the edge of the forest. Then, I flip him over. I can barely hear his quiet whine. I nearly throw up as I see the damage. His back is bruised and bloody, and his shirt looks like it was originally red. He mumbles something. I whisper, "What did you say?" He only replies with "Mhhamahaha." I'm becoming impatient. "Dusk! What are you trying to say?" He looks straight into my eyes and says, "You've got to win. For all those tributes out there who are already dead." Then, he coughs a bit, and his mouth is stained an ugly red color, the color I have come to despise. I say, "Dusk...?" But I know he's gone. His eyes stare at nothing, his chest no longer moves, his blonde hair rustles in the wind, but nothing else moves. I bend down closer and tell him, "I will win. For you."

Elexia Calather, D7, Forest:

I wander through the twisting ivy and tall trees. I pretend that I'm in the woods at home. Which I may never see again. This is so stupid. I watch the Hunger Games every year. I have my head full of tips and tricks I have learned from them. But my stupid brain decides to forget them as soon as I'm in the arena. Ugh. I spot a bush full of berries and am about to check them out when I hear the cannons. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Six in all. What a pitifully small number. I remember a Hunger Games where 16 died at the Bloodbath. That was..... I dunno. 9 years ago? I was seven, then, I guess. I can still see the break of the field, but the Cornucopia's out of sight. I thought that I might hide near in it, but I'm not sure if the careers are still there. I hear a slight rustling and dive bomb into a bush. I wait for a minute or two. Then, I pocket my knife, the only thing I was able to get. I hear rustling again.

Terra Storm, D11, Forest:

The girl dives into a bush. I didn't mean to make any noise. My foot slipped. She sits there for a minute or two, but who does she think she's fooling? I know she's there. I think she's from.... I don't know what district.But she's the one who got into a fight. She seems like a good ally to have. She definitely knows how to bring someone down. I climb out of the bush I'm ducking behind. I see her silhouette cower. I stand out in the open, so she can see that I'm no threat. "I saw you, you know?" I say. After a moment, I hear her scratchy, kind of low voice. "I know." I stand there. "Allies?" She says. "Allies." I say. She pulls herself from the bush and I see she has a knife. "Can I see that?" I question longingly. She looks wary at first, and then seeing my face, says, "Sure. Go knock yourself out." I first practice on a tree. Then she says, "I didn't get any food. I saw some berries back there. Can we check them out?" I look to her and nod. Then we head to the berries.

Elexia Calather, D7, Forest:

"Oh, look, you found blueberries!" Terra says delightedly. She must be younger than me. She's definitely shorter. She plucks the bush clean and puts them in one of her orange leather boots. I must have made a disgusted face, because she says, "Oh, It'll only smell bad for a while." I question her on the safety of not wearing one shoe. In response, she takes off the other one as well. "It's harmless. I walk barefoot all the time back at home." I shrug and we take off, looking for a close place to stay.

Treeden Jones, D12, Desert:

I have no idea how James convinced me to go to the desert. It's boring and kind of strange. In the past nine hours since the bloodbath, It's been freezing cold, steaming hot, and random frogs have come out of their burrows. When it was cold, James had to give me his shirt to help me stay warm. I felt bad, but I can't say I regret it. When it was really hot, it came to the point where I took off my shirt leaving only a thin tank top. James stared at me as though I was crazy. "What?" I question. "It's hot." He shakes his head but within minutes, he's stripped down to his tank top, too. When the frogs randomly appeared, he bent down to pick one up, cooing. He must have thought they were cute. I smacked his head. "What do you think you're doing?" I say. "They could be mutts!" He looks at me as though I'M the dumb one and says, "If they were mutts, you'd think they'd have attacked us already." I shrug and warn him, "Don't pick them up." I'm growing so tired. Neither one of us did very well at the bloodbath. I came up with what I wanted, a bow and arrow, but what good is it here? James got nothing. No food. And then James tells me we should go to the desert. I have no idea how he did it. Maybe it's that cute little grin of his.

Jake Dean, D4, Career camp, Mountain base:

When it was time for us to choose our camp, we all voted. I voted for the field of flowers. Of course, my sister said that was stupid and that we should do her idea, this stupid mountain. I think all the boys see her as cute. Ugh. I think the girls see her as fierce, because she speared the tall boy who was fighting for the back pack. Don't remember his name or district. Guess we'll find out soon. Just as that thought comes to my mind, I hear the anthem and the seal in the sky. I stop my shivering for a moment to see the tributes. The goth looking boy from two. Hmph. I thought he'd at least make it. A blonde boy from three. The tall boy Jen speared. He was from eight. That makes sense, D8 never gets any training. Wimps. A girl from nine, Boy from 10, and an African American. That makes six. I feel stupid. We only killed six today! How pathetic. I didn't get to personally watch anyone die, get the feeling of power. I contributed to the 10 boy's death, though. I pull my arms around my self and walk to the tent. Then, I slip in and prepare for tomorrow.



Ernie Sasalot

Krallem Ateep

Thread Young

Marry Blodbath

Dusk Shivers

Grain Follows


The careers: Cream Donahew, Bliss Diamond, Lucy Fighter, Jake Dean, Jen Dean.

James Andre, Treeden Jones

Elexia Calather, Terra Storm

Cornucopia's Condition:

Very few supplies remaining, mostly useless, like cups and a packet of buttons.



Lucy "Dumb Blonde" Fighter, D2, Career camp, Mountain base:

I hate how stupid this group is. And they call ME stupid! I tell them that we obviously need to go hunt or something, but the other blondy, Jen gapes at me. "Are you stupid?" She says. "We have all the food!" "Well, I just-" I start, but Jen cuts me off. "You thought what? That we need food. How stupid are you?" Cream, who's behind her, says, "She's very stupid." and snickers. "Oh, so now you support her, Creampuff?" I shout. His face quickly darkens. "Don't. Call. Me. Creampuff." He says slowly through grinding teeth. This just encourages me more. "Creampuff, Creampuff, you are a Creampuff!" I sing. Everybody around me is starting to look worried, and Cream's face almost matches the color of his hair, red. He charges at me, screaming, "MY NAME'S NOT CREAMPUFF!" I quickly dodge him, though. He falls to the side. I remembered that move from a girl's Reaping. I look at Cream and say, "You don't call me dumb, I don't call you Creampuff." He looks at me and says, "Fine." Then everything just goes on as it was. We prepare to go hunt tributes.

Emrick Oak, D7, Flowery Field:

I sit on a low branch of a stubby Magnolia tree. Petals drift to the ground from the flowers, decorating the ground with little white carcasses. Ugh. How pessimistic do I sound now? I shake my head, clearing it of all bad thoughts. From here I can see for miles. I tried to join the Careers, but I was too shy to ask them. Also, by the way, they ate, I'm not sure I wanted to be one. I sit there, fingering a petal. It's so soft and silky. I'm so absorbed in the smoothness of a simple petal that I almost miss the girl's voice.

Emrick Oak, D7, Flowery Field, Continued:

I suddenly turn. The girl has reddish blonde looking hair and a sly smile. "What did you say?" I stumble. "Do you know where my District partner is?" She irritatedly asks. "...Who?" She sighs. "The one with a crab hoodie! Karkat!" I consider it for a moment and then jump down to see her eye level. "Oh, him? I saw him running out to the mountains." I recall. "Ahh." She rubs her chin and looks at me. Then she saunters past me and whispers, "Thanks" I'm about to turn to her, as she's past me now, and say, "You're welcome," when I feel my back hurting. I have literally been backstabbed. I watch her go through fuzzy eyes, then, I collapse. "Why are you so foolish?" I ask myself. "Why?" It seems that my cannon is the only answer.

James Andre, D12, Desert lake:

Treeden and I found a source of water. Finally. I thought I might have dropped dead. Then, Treeden saw something shimmering. "Probably a heat wave" I mumble. But she runs to see it. She has no idea where the edge is, and I tiredly watch her run. Then, all I see is her figure rolling or tripping into something. "TREEDEN!" I scream. What if she's fallen into a game maker trap? I run for her, but then I see a soaking wet head pop up, black hair dripping and shining beautifully. "Water!" She shrieks. The words perk me up. I run and dive straight into the cool water. I let out an automatic moan of relief as I feel the heat melting off of me. I turn to Treeden. "Maybe going to the desert wasn't a stupid idea after all." She nods her head, as if considering. Then, she spits water in my face. Charming!

Ruby Steiner, D6, Mountains:

I puff on my hands, trying to warm them up. Unfortunately, I'm still cold. This green shirt isn't very thick, either. I'd probably be dead without the stretchy grey pants, too. Ahh, so cold. I'm thinking I may just die right here right now, when the thunder of a cannon snaps me into full consciousness.

Leisel Hammerman, D6, Mountains:

I stumble into the cave. I'm cold. I sit close to the mouth, watching my breath puff out of my mouth. It swirls and twists in the air. It's not long before I realize that I'm not the only one in here that breathes. As i see a puff raise, I gasp. Then I draw my knife, preparing for a fight. I cautiously walk into the darkness. A figure emerges also. The person is tall, wiry, and obviously not a girl. "I-I didn't come for a fight" I say. The figure cocks his head. "Leisel?" The voice strikes me. "Ruby?" He walks into the light. "Let's be allies." He says. "Allies." I agree.

Needreve Ssintak, D3, Forest:

My stomach grumbles. My tongue is dry. My legs hurt. My head hurts. I am a big mess today, aren't I? I pick up a root from the ground and sniff. It smells normal. I dig into it with my nail. A red liquid seeps out. It's probably poisonous. I toss it over my shoulder. I look up into the sky, hoping for sponsors. Apparently, no one wants to sponsor me. I get down on my hands and knees and sift through the dirt. I find nothing. I drag my self to the base of a tree and prop myself up. I think I might die now. Here might be a good place to die.

Fido Fiderson, D9, Desert:

I need sponsors. I got the spear, I got the skills. I'm using the skills. I'm dancing my butt off! No one is sponsoring me! I keep dancing, and dancing, and dancing. I eventually get tired. I sit down on the sand and yell, "IT WOULDN'T BE TOO HARD TO SEND ME SOMETHING, WOULD IT?" Almost as soon as the words exit my mouth, a silver parachute comes down. I scrabble over to it, and shout, "THANK YOU!" I open it. A bottle of water and a small package of two crackers and a 4 inch stick of.... something. I'm.... not sure. "THANK YOU SO MUCH!" I scream again. I won't die! *Gasp!* This is a sign! The ladies of the capitol are liking the pole-dancing! Watch out, people, Fido Fiderson will blow you to bits with his sponsorship!

Elexia Calather, D7, Forest:

The sun sets, staining the sky in hues of pink, painting it with purples, and leaking through in yellows. It's so beautiful. I sit on the ground next to Terra, watching her. She's focused on a leaf that has settled on her bare toe. I reach over to the boot full of blueberries and take a couple. I pop them one at a time. I sit, swallowing, when the anthem blares. Terra and I stare into the sky, waiting to see who died. As I see the face, my own face falls. I know the face. With this dead victim, I ate sweet peaches in the Summer. With this dead victim, I joked around. With this dead victim, I always had a shoulder to cry on. This dead face, soon to be a nobody, is Emrick. A single tear finds it's way to the ground. Nobody will remember him. Nobody but me and his family. He will become a face, then only a name, then he will fade into the fabric of time completely.



Emrick Oak


Terra Storm, Elexia Calather

The Careers: Cream Donahew, Bliss Diamond, Lucy Fighter, Jen Dean, Jake Dean.

James Andre, Treeden Jones

Leisel Hammerman, Ruby Steiner



Ruby Steiner, D6, Mountains:

Leisel and I sit in our cave. Leisel turns to me and says, "Well, what are we gonna do?" I cock my head, "What do you mean?" She sighs. "You know, we can't survive forever without food. How are we gonna get any?" Thinking about that, she is right. We're not immortal. We do have stomachs. We stand up together. Without even a word, we head out of the cave. We start along a path. You see, I found a little path on the side of this mountain. It's very useful. We walk silently, scanning the ground before us for roots and sprigs to eat. We both have our eyes on the ground when we hear a cracking sound. We look at each other. "....Leisel...?" I say. She opens her mouth to respond, but she never gets the chance. A torrent of white snow crashes over us.

Jen Dean, D4, Career camp, Mountain base:

I hear a rumbling sound. "...guys...." I start. They look at me, and traveling up my arm to my finger, see it. A roll of pure white, looming towards us. Lucy shrieks, high pitched. "AVALANCHE!" I cry out. We all grab backpacks and start to run. "Hurry!" I shout. We all run from the mountain, panting as our backpacks clunk against us. I can see the field and the glimmer of the cornucopia. I run, using all the strength I have. My lungs feel a thousand years old and I feel my heart clunking around. "RUN!" I cry, hoarse. My comrades keep pace with me. I have no time to check where's where, who's who. I can feel myself slowing down. I make a final leap for safety and instead find myself in an abyss of white.

Forsynthia Hayfrie, Capitol citizen:

The girl is lucky. She dies immediately when a boulder that was being carried hits her in the head, causing her to be conked out and possibly internal bleeding. The boy, though, is trapped under three feet of snow, calling out for help. He calls desperately. His voice gets hoarse. Then, his face lights up and he drools. Ugh. He watches as the drool falls. Then, he starts digging in the opposite direction. What is he doing? He keeps digging, digging, digging. Then, on a different camera's view, you see his head pop up out of the snow. "Leisel?" He calls out. "Leisel?" The girl's cannon fires. He stifles a gasp, as if he's sure it's her but hopes it's someone else. He pulls himself out and trudges to a boulder, where he plops down. He stares at the sky expectantly. As he was probably hoping, the claw comes out of the sky and buries itself into the snow. It pulls out the girl, a mangled, bloody mess. Her face is a frozen mask of grotesque pain. The boy gives a sharp cry and buries his face in his hands. "Leisel" he moans. "Leisel...."

Lucy Fighter, D2, Mountains:

Cold. White. That is all there is. I scream, my voice harsh and hoarse. I feel blinded by the lack of color. "Heellllpppppp!" I scream, feeling an itch in my throat developing. I close my eyes and whimper. This was not supposed to happen! Tears fall, making imprints in the snow below me. I'm going to die. I feel so cold already. I can feel myself drifting......

A soft popping sound wakes me. My eyes open. A hand in wriggling from the ceiling of my snowy room. My synapses connect and I grasp the hand, taking in it's warmth. I hear a shout from above. "Hey! I found her!" The hand yanks me, and I submit myself to it. I am lifting, out of my white prison in which I might have died.

Karkat Vantas, D5, Cornucopia field:

My eyes scan the mountains where I just was. I escaped in time to not be swallowed whole by the avalanche. I gape at the carnage. A familiar voice pipes up behind me. "Well aren't we glad YOU weren't involved in that?" I whirl around and come face-to-face with Vriska. "Vriska!" I shout. "I've been looking for you." She scowls. "Well, you did a lousy job!" I growl, "Lets get somewhere." She considers this for a moment. "How about hiding in the cornucopia?"

Tinder Leafs, D10, Forest:

The forest is more or less a prison. I normally love the forest, but with the gloom of the games hanging over me, it's no fun. I trudge, shuffling leaves. I don't care if I make noise, I can deal with tributes. I won't even feel bad if I have to kill one. The games have sucked my feelings away in a cold breath. I hear voices to my behind right. I scrabble up a tree until I'm at least 20 feet up. Then, I watch as two girls pass under. "I swear, I'll kill whoever killed Emrick," one rants. Emrick? He's obviously dead.... and this girl..... she's the one who got into a fight at reapings. She's.... District 7. Emrick must be from seven too. He died yesterday. I watched his death in person from the edge of the woods. I hop down from my tree in front of them. The shorter one gasps and reaches into her pocket. "NO! No!" I shout. "I don't want to hurt you. I know who killed.... Emrick." The taller one, the fighter, half-grins. "Oh really?" She asks. "Yeah. Vriska Serket, District five. Red-blonde hair." Her face hardens into determination. "Wait!" I say. "This is a favor. I tell you the girl, you don't kill me, like the sly dog Vriska is." She nods. I walk around the two girls and promptly settle in my tree. They wave, and set off. "One more thing! She was headed to the mountains!"



Leisel Hammerman


The careers: Cream Donahew, Bliss Diamond, Lucy Fighter, Jen Dean, Jake Dean

Elexia Calather, Terra Storm

Treeden Jones, James Andre

Vriska Serket, Karkat Vantas



Ruby Steiner, D6, Cornucopia field by mountains:

Leisel is dead. I saw her face in the sky. As sad as it was, I couldn't help but to laugh. Her headshot looks so silly, because she's giggling hysterically. I can't blame her, the photographer looked so stupid with his nose rings. Still, this is not a time to laugh. And so here I sit. I don't care if the careers find me, I don't care if there's a follow up avalanche, I could care less about anything. My best friend is dead. Fortunately I was carrying the backpack at the time, so I still have supplies. I reach in and pull out a knife. I look at it and consider suicide. I don't want to die any other way. I'd rather die in my own hands. I raise the knife to my throat, and pull it closer. I'm about to make a clean swipe when I remember the promise. The promise I made to Leisel's adoptive mother. I lower the knife and I know I need to win.

Treeden Jones, D12, Desert lake:

We saw another face in the sky last night. This is going to be a long, long stay in the arena I'll have if tributes don't die quicker! Okay, that sounds sadistic, but it's true. I felt bad for the girl who's face was in the sky. She must have been a funny person. I think we would be friends, if we had ever met. James is sitting by the lake, looking up to the sky. Gosh, he can really make me... fluttery. It's hard to describe. He can make me smile with a single joke or story, and he has a cute habit of adjusting his glasses when he's nervous. He laughs a lot, which makes me laugh a lot. Even though the constant threat of death is always hanging over me, this is the happiest I can remember being for a while now. I think.... I think what I'm trying to say is that.... I like James.

Needreve Ssintak, D3, Forest:

I've been sitting by this tree for days, it feels like. Living off of chewing bark, I feel pitiful. My stomach grumbles relentlessly. When I hear the footsteps, I think there may be hope. Instead, I find the opposite of hope - I find Careers.

"Oh look, a tribute" A blonde one says. An identical looking boy says, "Probably wants to die." I shake my head. I don't want to die! I scrabble at the tree trunk, trying to get up, but my legs are too tired. A large boy with red hair and brown skin pulls out a sword, then, examines it. He even polishes it with his shirt before pointing it to my chin. "Get up." He says. I straggle, but another blonde girl, with green eyes and a clueless look helps me. I stand weak but proud in front of these monsters. "Well then, what are we waiting for?" Says the brown skinned one. I notice one career, yet another blonde, sits back silently. Her blue eyes glimmer like water. My eyes plead to her, but she shows no sign of seeing. Then I turn back to the swordy guy and say, "You can kill me, but there'll be a price to pay." I have a plan. He smirks and says, "I doubt it'll be high." Then, he rams the sword straight through me. I wince at the pain, but I was expecting it, so it's marginal. Sword-in-stomach, I yank the handle from him and jump on the clueless blonde. I push down on the sword so the blade slices her open, too. She cries out, and I wriggle the blade, to create more pain for the both of us. I pull the sword from our two joined bodies and roll off of her. She's bleeding bad, and crying, but nothing compared to me. The careers rush over to her. For good measure, I stab her in the heart. She gives a gasp and goes limp. Her cannon blares triumphantly and I close my eyes. This is my final word of justice. This is my final contribution to the world. And suddenly now, I understand the saying, "An eye for an eye."


Ernie Sasalot, D2, Ghost perspective:

These tributes are sniveling fools. The careers disappoint me. If I hadn't died, I'd be silently killing them, turning them in on one another, making the games so much more interesting. But no, the girl had to go and kill me. I rejoiced when she was killed in the avalanche. It was her turn. I don't find being dead very different being from alive, though I can't talk to humans, touch, grab, or, unfortunately, use cat claws. More good news: Lucy is dead. She deserved it. Applause to the D3 girl. Touching, touching. Now, leave me alone. I'm sulking, and I don't like being bothered.

Bobbin Young, D8, Flowery Field:

I sit, plucking flowers, weaving them, humming. This might be the calmest I've been since the games have begun. The flowers grow in colors I've never seen on flowers before. Then again, there weren't many flowers in my district anyway. We were urbanized. The flowers are small but long stemmed. I continue to hum, a song my mother taught me. I only remember one line, so I hum until I come to that line. Maybe, if there's a chance I could possibly win, and come home, I'll ask my mom to teach me the rest. The only line I remember is "High up in the mountains or far, far out to sea, my love, she is waiting there, waiting there for me." It's a sweet but fast song. My chain of blossoms grows to desired length, so I tie it off and string it upon my head, like a fairy. I close my eyes and hum, swaying with the light breeze. I hear the footsteps before my eyes open.

Jake Dean, D4, Flowery Field:

"Hey little girl." I say. She turns, but she's not shocked. She picks at her nail while talking to me. "So, you're a career, right?" I'm kind of astonished, as to how she would know this, just by a quick glimpse. "How'd you know?" I question. She scoffs. "Look at you. Big, buff, and.... quite good looking." I can't stop my cheeks from turning crimson, but she doesn't look up, so I'm okay. Why should I be accepting compliments from a thirteen year old? I mean, but she did call me good looking. She sighs. "I assume this is the part where I'm supposed to run and then you kill me?" I'm also surprised by her bluntness. I stammer for an answer. "I, well, you, I, um.." I look away. She's being sly. I should just move in, and take her out. She's just a wimpy young child from a poor, weakling district, right? I advance, but when I lunge, she's not there. I look up. She's not running. Well, now I know where she is. Behind me. I start to whirl, but my neck is stiffly held in place. I look down to my neck and see a petite, pale pair of hands holding them. The little.... "Well, unfortunately, I don't run, and I'm not planning on dying today." She sighs and says in a quieter voice, "Ugh. I lost all my kindness the day these games began. I try to wriggle free, but her grip is tight as steel. Then, she lifts one hand and effortlessly slices my throat with a single finger nail. I gasp, and she lets me fall to the ground. I clunk my head on the ground. She bends down and smiles sweetly. "Tell my brother hello, wherever you end up." Then, she takes my pack and.... kisses my forehead. "Bye, darling. Oh yeah, and I saw the blush." Then she giggles and walks off. I can't feel my arms anymore. I can't feel my legs. My body evaporates it's feelings and my consciousness floats away with it. My life is being sucked out, and it's all I can do not to smile.

Bliss Diamond, D1, Edge of flowery field:

Where is Jake? A cannon fired just a second ago, meaning that his vision was correct. He did see a tribute. And in a few minutes, he'll be here. He saw something dark and shiny. It was hair. He whispered to me, "It's a tribute. Sitting. I'd say a fairly small one, too. Let e take care of it." I told him that if we both went, it'd be quicker, but after a minute of arguing, I submitted to letting him go alone. "I'll be right here." I said. He smirked and said, "No duh."

I squint in the light, my eyes burning in the intense sun. Where is Jake? "Jake!" I cry out. "JAKE!" I watch as the hovercraft comes down to collect the dead tribute. Obviously, Jake has just cleared away. I look avidly for long, shiny, black hair but I don't see it in the clutches of the claw. Instead, I see blonde. That's why Jake hasn't come. He's....

Jen Dean, D4, Career camp, Cornucopia Field:

"Dead?" I stutter. It's hard to imagine. My brother, twin, enemy, dead. Every breath is sucked out of my body.My lungs hurt, like that time Jake sat on me underwater for three minutes straight. Even my pain reminds me of him. My mouth gapes, but once I realize, I shut it and scowl, feeling stupid. "Oh well, he was never useful anyway." I say fiercely, but my voice cracks at the end. But what I have said is a lie. My brother was useful. And I don't mean useful for a punching bag. Jake, oh Jake, I'm so sorry. For the time I kicked sand in your eyes. For the time I told you your dancing was really stupid. For the time I clapped my hands over your ears and knocked you unconscious. And so much more. Forgive me Jake, please. Please.

Karkat Vantas, D5, Inside Cornucopia:

"Vriska?" I say. She's sitting at the mouth of the Cornucopia, our new camp. She turns. "What?" She says, venom spurting in her voice. I start, but she interrupts me. "Another Career is dead." I'm surprised. One just died yesterday. "Really?" "Yeah. One step closer to home." I'm about to agree with her, when I realize what what she meant. SHE'S one step closer to home in her mind, not me, too. What she's implying disgusts me, that she can be so smug as to think that she'll be the winner! My usual frown grows into a big frown. She lifts up a frying pan. "Where'd you get that?" I ask. "Oh, it was just outside the Cornucopia. Obviously, no one wanted it. Stupid people don't see the use for such things." I scowl. "It'd be hard to carry around, and it's loud." She narrows her eyes and bares her teeth like a cat. My mind clicks. "Oh yeah, uh, Vriska..." I pull in close so even the cameras can't hear. "Uh, as a strategy to get sponsors, you... want to have..... a fake romance....?" Her head jerks back in disgust. "Well.....?" I continue. In response, she raises her pan and slams it into my skull.


Terra Storm, D11, Edge of forest:

"Alright. There they are, at the Cornucopia." Elexia points out to me. *Ding* we hear. "What. Was. That?" asks Elexia. "Don't ask me." I stammer. We stand at the edge of the woods, close to the Cornucopia, concealed by bushes. We're near the camp of the girl who killed Elexia's district partner. I wonder why she cares. My district partner is dead, too, and I'm not looking for his killer. Two reasons. One, I don't even know who killed him, and two, it's not like he would avenge my death. He never even really paid any attention to me. I ask Elexia why we're killing the girl as revenge. Her face falls and she says, "Well, Emrick and I were friends...... until he started hanging out with Maple -" I raise a finger. "Let me guess. This Maple is the one you got into a fight with?" Her eyes widen. "How'd you guess?" I laugh quietly. "It'd be easy to tell you hate her." Elexia gives a reluctant grin. "Well, yeah, I do." Then her face hardens. "Tomorrow, we kill Vriska." I nod. A plan is in order.



Jake Dean

Needreve Ssintak


Treeden Jones, James Andre

Elexia Calather, Terra Storm

The Careers: Bliss Diamond, Cream Donahew, Jen Dean

Vriska Serket, Karkat Vantas



Fido Fiderson, D9, Desert:

I walk, trudging, using my spear as a walking stick. I ran out of food yesterday evening. Turns out, the stick of something I got was beef. Yum. It's really hot. I'm really thirsty. I'm stumbling over my feet when I see something shiny. Water? I stumble towards it, tripping repeatedly. I trip over a little lump of sand. Regaining my footing, I see the lump rumbling. What? I bend down, and a reptile head pops out. Not good! I run towards the water, or what I'm hoping to be water, and catch a look at what I disturbed. It's a snake... with legs. And a stinger. Definitely a mutt. RUN! I think, but my body doesn't need to be told twice. The little mutt is at my heels when I hit the water. Splashing in, I sigh relief and stick out my tongue at the reptile. It scuttles away. Apparently, it's swimming powers are limited. Then, I hear a gasp. The District 12 tributes are across the lake, gaping at me. I fumble for my spear and throw it, but it only makes it half way across the lake and bobs aimlessly. I swim out to retrieve it, but I'm no swimmer. I've never swam in my life. Only wade like I was a second ago. I slip under, gasping and spurting water. I give up and wade back to shore. Great. Now my only weapon and sponsorship tool is gone. I look up. The two tributes are gone. Good.

James Andre, D12, Desert:

Treeden and I are panting furiously, running in sync. I see the cliff first and stop. Treeden keeps going. "TREEDEN! STOP!" She looks at me, then ahead, and realizes the danger, but it's too late. I watch as her momentum pulls her forward and she goes tumbling over the edge of the arena.

Treeden Jones, D12, Edge of arena:

A scream escapes my lips, flying out of my mouth like a bird. I plummet downwards, flailing and twisting. "Jaaaaammmmmmeeeeessssss!" I scream. "Treeeeeedddddddeeeeennnnnn!" I hear. How far down is this? I twist my head and see nothing but blue. I close my eyes. I don't want to see my own death. It doesn't help. I can still feel myself being pulled, my hair like whips, the sharp whistle of my own dead weight. But I'm not going to watch myself die. Instead, I think about the sky. How it seems like a solid blue, but the sky isn't solid at all. Is it layers? What is the sky? I can tell the end is near. It has taken an unnaturally long time to fall. Goodbye, I think. I squeeze my eyes shut, curl my flailing self up as best I can, and prepare to die. Instead, I feel myself going upwards. I open my eyes. I AM going upwards!

My lips open but no sound comes out. I realize that I may not die. I watch as the sharp, rocky cliff of the arena passes by. I drift scarily close to it, but I think I may need to be that close. I don't know how long this upwards pull will last. I see the break of the cliff, signaling to me that I need to latch on to something. Thirty feet, Twenty feet, ten feet, five feet. My hands find their way to a jutting boulder. My nails scrape across the gritty but smooth surface. "JAMES!" I scream. His head pokes out from above. "Treeden?!?!" He asks. "You-that was you?" I look at him. "That was me what? Wait! Don't answer that! Help me!" It's a miracle I'm alive. Don't let that miracle end!

James Andre, D12, Edge of arena:

I need rope to pull Treeden up. I stare desperately into the azure, cloudless sky. "Rope?!" I ask. Almost as if on cue, a silver parachute rains down. Perfect! We must have good sponsors! I untangle the parachute and unwind the rope. "Treeden!" I call out as I lower the rope. A hoarse "James..!" Is my reply. Then I feel a tug on the rope and haul it up. It's not hard, as Treeden isn't very heavy. Then, a hand appears on the cliff. Then, another. Next, a beautiful face I thought I'd never see again. I pull her into my arms. She lets out a heavy sigh, then bursts into tears. "I-I almost died!" She chokes. "But you aren't dead, now are you?" I whisper. She looks up at me and giggles. "No, I guess I'm not. Why aren't I? I fell off of an arena!" I begin to explain to her how she fell off and hit the force field, which made the sky turn distortedly red for a moment, and how the momentum threw her back up. She chews it over, then does something unexpected. She kisses me.

Fluffums, D11, Terra's Cat:

Sometimes I see the girl on the blinky bright box, but she never pays any attention to me, and she never pets me. She's with another girl. "Mrrrooooow!" I yowl at her. But all she does is roll over and and snore. She must be asleep, even thought the sun is high. Then, the girl disappears and is replaced by an unfamiliar boy. I hiss at him. My attention is drawn from the blinky box when the girl's little sister walks in. I pad over to her. She picks me up and cries in my fur. Ick. More eye water. "Do you think Terra will win?" In reponse, I meow. She smiles. "I'm glad you approve, Fluffums."

Elexia Calather, D7, Forest:

A bright light invades my dreams. A shining, yellow light. I squint, and groan. A watery, distorted voice breaks through the light. "Elexia? Are you awake?" I open my eyes and immediately become aware of the fact that I am not where I am supposed to be. A pale, dirty face stares me down. Brown hair falls over her face. I squint under the bright sun. My skin is moist, and I'm laying in a pile of crinkly leaves. Oh, wait. I'm in the arena. I slowly sit up and Terra squints at me. "Are you okay? You... don't look good. And, um, we slept in.... we'll have to kill Vriska tomorrow. The sun's almost down." These words make no sense to me. My brain is muddled and foggy. "Wha-" I start, but am interrupted by a stream of bile and food steaming down my throat. Terra winces. I start to retch, convulsing and coughing between streams of vomit. My nose is streaming and my throat is sore when I finally stop. Terra wraps her arm, carefully, carefully, around me. "You must be.... sick. Let's get you some rest. We can kill Vriska tomorrow." Finally her words make sense to me, and I start to object with a slurred voice. "But Vrishkaaa might -" But then I puke again and pass out, face down, in my own vile liquid.

Tinder Leafs, D10, Forest:

No deaths today. I snuggle into a pile of leaves and close my eyes. I think about the arena. How my state has deteriorated since day one. In the humid forest air, my hair has become frizzy, my clothes stained with sweat. There are various cuts from encounters with thorns, low-hanging branches, and accidents. Currently, my shoulder has a huge bruise on it and is sore. That's from when I fell out of a tree last night while sleeping. I'm sticking to sleeping in bushes for now. I haven't seen the girls since I warned them about Vriska. I can't wait until they all fight, because then I'll know for sure that no cameras are trained on me. I'm not very video-genic. Then again, not many people are video-genic when they are starving and ridden of almost all humanity, turned animal for the Capitol's delight. As I slip away from the arena and into sleep, my last thought is that maybe, just maybe, I can win.





Careers: Jen Dean, Bliss Diamond, Cream Donahew.

Vriska Serket, Karkat Vantas.

Elexia Calather, Terra Storm.

Treeden Jones, James Andre.



Cream Donahew, D1, Career camp, Cornucopia field:

There are two tributes inside the Cornucopia. I ask Bliss why we aren't going to go kill them. She glares at me with stern, hiding eyes. Eyes that hide desperation. "Cream, there's only three of us left. We can't underestimate these two. They seem.... determined. And hard to beat." I spit in disgust. "You wimp! These are the Hunger Games! Only one of us can win! You're a wimp, a coward, and not even worthy of being a career! You're lucky I don't just kick you out!" She, at first, appears offended, then angry. "You can't tell me what to do!" She hisses. "Yes I can!" I say. In response, she grabs a backpack and checks it. Then, she adds knives and water. She puts it over her shoulder and turns towards the colorful mass of flowers. I grab her shoulder. "Just what do you think you're doing?" I scowl. Her eyes narrow. "What I should have done all along." With that, she tosses her hair and starts walking into the distance.

Ruby Steiner, D6, Mountains:

I don't feel like doing anything. I sit here, maybe eating a bit. I'm going to run out of food sometime sooner or later. I don't care. In my head, I sing myself a song, an old song my father used to sing to me every night. That is, before I went to the reserves, learned to kill, and came back to find my family dead. I am a child no longer. But I desperately want to be back at home, snuggled in bed, feeling my father's love floating off of him as he sang.....

Ruby Steiner, age 6:

The blankets are warm against my pale skin. I squeeze my eyes shut and my dad says, "Falling asleep so early?" My eyes open and I laugh, revealing my missing tooth. I lost it a day ago! Then, daddy says, "Want to hear a song?" I nod my head, bobbing up and down. He laughs. Then, he starts.

Do you hear the Robin sing?

He is a sign of coming spring.

And when the green grass grows tall, so tall,

You will hear the Robin's call.

Do you hear the Robin sing?

His happy tune means a special thing.

And when the sky's filled with puffy clouds,

The Robin's call will ring out, loud.

I love that song. I still do, even though it is a clear memory of my father. Sometimes, I find it easier to forget, instead of remembering. It has less pain, and it's easy, so easy. So as I close my eyes and listen to my own rhythmic breathing, I forget. Forget Leisel. Forget Dad, and the rest of my family. Forget everything.

Terra Storm, D11, Forest:

"You know, I think I'm much better!" Persists Elexia. After her lovely episode of out of control puking, I've decided that we are not fighting Vriska until tomorrow, when we know she's better. "No, I don't think you are." I say, rolling my eyes. She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. "And what are you, a healer?" I smirk. "No, but, since I'm the sane one here, I get to choose what to do." She sits up so fast I think she's going to hit herself in the face with her knees. "Sane? You, sane?" Then, she falls over laughing. I sigh. "Well, I didn't dive bomb into a bush, now did I?" I say. Then she stops. Good. I start again, "Well, Vriska-" Then we hear a purr of a voice coming from the other end of the bushes. "Vriska what? Did you mean.... me?" Then I see her. "Didn't expect me, now didja?" She purrs. Then, she pulls out a frying pan. Frying pan? What? I grasp my belt, feeling for my knife, but nothing's there. "Oh, you didn't need this, did you?" I look up. Vriska is toying around with MY knife. "Oh, not at all." I purr back, not to be out done. Then, I leap at her.

Elexia Calather, D7, Forest:

Terra's whacked in the shoulder with Vriska's frying pan. She falls to the ground and gives a slight moan, then uses jerky movements to get up. Oh my gosh! Her mouth is red! Is she bleeding? No. My eyes trace their way to Vriska, who is hysterically shrieking, "She bit me! SHE BIT ME!" Then I see. A rather large chunk of flesh is torn off of Vriska's shoulder. It lays on the ground. Ick...! I can't hesitate any longer. I leap onto the hysterical Vriska and scratch her face. Then, I feel a huge THUD on my head and see little sparkles and spots. She must of whacked me with her pan. I look up through my blurry vision to see Terra and Vriska facing off. Vriska says, "Weaponless, you're hopeless. I'll definitely win this battle. I've got this. " She says, smugly twirling her pan by the handle. "If I knock you out with it, you'll be out cold for days. Karkat still is..." Then her face kind of darkens. Shame? A groggy moan escapes from behind the strawberry blonde whom I'll kill. "I'm still wha-" But Vriska instinctively slams the frying pan into the speakers skull, then turns.

Vriska Serket, D5, Forest:

Aww crud. "Karkat?" I say. "Uhh.... Karkat? You okay?" No answer. Then, I raise my pan and swing it around, letting go at the last second. It whizzes right over the pale girl's head. The other one is still on the ground, just being... dazed. Terra, I think her name is, races for the pan, and I do, too. She reaches it first and smirks. "Thanks for the weapon." I shake my head. "No, no, no-" but then I hear something.... unnatural. Terra and I's heads turn in the same direction. A scream. Not just any scream, but my name. "VRISSSKKKKAAAA!!!!!"

Terra Storm, D11, Forest:

Someone is screaming my name. Who is it? "TERRRRRRRRAAAA!" I hear. The pan slips from my fingers. It calls again. "TEEEERRRRRRRRRAAAAA! Come here!!!!!"

Vriska Serket, D5, Forest:


Terra Storm, D11, Forest:

The call. It's almost magnetic. I don't even know I'm running until I see that Vriska is, too. Who is calling me, why is she coming, and why can't I stay away?

Vriska Serket:

Why is SHE coming? It was my name. I can't stop running. It's... alluring.

Terra Storm:

This is probably a game-maker trap. I try to skid to a halt, but I can't. My body isn't letting me.

Bobbin Young, D8, Forest:

I sit high up in a tree, cracking acorns with my teeth. Crack. Crack. Once I have a good handful shelled, I stuff them in my mouth, one by one. They taste peculiar, but then again, they're edible. I close my eyes and rest, chewing on my nuts. Crunch crunchy crunch. They feel and sound similar to a nut that my mother used to bring home from the market. Walnuts. Thread and I ate them by the dozens. Crunch, crunch. Suddenly, a new crunching is heard. From down below. I lean forward and steady myself on a branch to see what it is. Two tribute girls, running, side-by-side. They keep glaring at each other, and one's shoulder is bleeding. What are they doing? They probably aren't allies, but they aren't killing one another, so....? What are they doing? Once they're out of sight, I shinny down my tree and follow them, ducking behind trees and tip-toeing. They seem to be following something. Suddenly, they stop. The shorter, brunette one cocks her ear as if listening for something. The red-blonde looks all shifty eyed. They just stare ahead, or at each other. I am completely confused. I'm about to reveal myself and ask them, but then, the force of an explosion knocks me off my feet.

Terra Storm, D11, Forest:

I know only one thing as I flip through the air. I know this: I'm fine with dying. Fire leeches up me, burning, scalding, running. Cold yet hot. Painful yet pleasurable. Time slows down as the world becomes blurry and I watch tree trunks fly by. Why did I ever fear dying in the first place? I feel nothing but emptiness when my face hits the ground. I roll, hollow yet thick. Black, yet white. Dead, yet alive. Nothing is left in me anymore. Like fire, I cannot die, only be burnt out. I am burnt out. Multi-colored images flash before me. I hear a long scream, and a whack as I lay face-down in the pine needles. I hear a voice, a little voice, saying things I can't understand. I cough feebly and prop myself up on one elbow. My vision clears and I see my little Luna, my darling sister, walking towards the flames of the explosion. "NO! LUNAAAA!" I scream out, hoarse and raspy. I wriggle to my knees and crawl to her. "Luna!" I scratchily croak. She steps into the flames. I straighten to my feet and follow her. I need to save my baby sister! I reach the hot tongues of flickering death. I step in, but then something grabs my leg, flips me to my stomach and drags me away.

Vriska Serket, D5, Forest:

I hear an unearthly scream that is mine, but not mine. I am flying through the air. Flying. I am screaming, screaming, screaming, letting my life go with it. Giving everything I've got into that scream. I feel the fire, singing into my skin, burning holes and giving unforgiving scars. I feel the rubble of trees, sharp bark that scratches at my face and body, sticky sap that catches and stays. If I am to die, I want to be remembered. I feel bad for the boy I killed. He may be remembered for a few years. Then forgotten. Why did I kill him? Why? Why did I hit Karkat in the head? Why? I flip through the air, whizzing. I give an unforgiving scream that will chill the hearts of many. Make them remember. Make them. Whether I die or not, they will never be forgiven. Not by me, not by anyone. They shall never be forgiven, for the evil they've done. The kids they've killed. The kids they've traumatized. As I scream that cold, relentless cry, that bounces off of trees and through time, I make a promise to myself. That I'll never forgive anyone, ever. They don't deserve it. At all. I don't deserve it. I've started to cry, thinking of all the times I wish I had forgiven someone and never had. All the times I wish I had been forgiven. When I smack hard against the tree, it is a blessing to be knocked out cold. I can't think anymore, can't see, and I just want to forget and die. Please, let me die.

James Andre, D12, Desert:

I have to feed Treeden myself because her hands are so scratched up from that fall, when she caught the rock. They're covered in blisters and cuts, oozing blood when they break. I gently feed her mashed up water roots, which she hungrily accepts. She accidentally gets a bit on her chin and I wipe it away with a tentative finger. She smiles. All is peaceful, all is calm. Then, something catches my eye. A large explosion coming from the forest. Throwing trees like a baby throws a toy. Bludgeoning the sky with it's fiery hands. I gasp, and Treeden follows my eyes to it. She gives a little squeal. I pull her into my sunburned arms and feel her shiver. "I wonder why that happened..." She finally murmurs when the sky goes dark again. We hear a chilly, high pitched scream that stops abruptly. Treeden bursts out crying. "Why are you crying?" I ask. She looks up at me, eyes glistening, watery with the tears. "I- I want to go home, James. Right now. I don't want to play these games anymore." I don't understand her. I ask her what she means and am greeted by silence. I look down to my lap and find Treeden, asleep. I smile and kiss her on the temple. Then, I set her down and settle down to go to sleep.





The Careers: Cream Donahew, Jen Dean.

Treeden Jones, James Andre.

Elexia Calather, Terra Storm.

Vriska Serket, Karkat Vantas.


Elexia Calather, Pan injury.

Karkat Vantas, Pan injury

Terra Storm, Pan injury, Explosion, Burns.

Vriska Serket, Bite, Explosion, Burns, Tree

Treeden Jones, Scarred hands.

Bobbin Young, Explosion.



ONE WEEK IN: 13 Left to play:


Jen Dean, D4, Career camp, Cornucopia field:

Cream hunches, defeated. He never thought Bliss would leave, did he? Well, She left, and he's feeling all sour pussy. He's no good to have around, saying Bliss this, Bliss that. Do I freakin' care? No. I just sit around with him. We are like, the wimpiest Careers in history. We've barely killed anyone. I mean, seriously, my brother died and Cream doesn't even suggest going to get the little girl who killed him? Cream's a jerk. A big fat jerk. "Hey, Cream, do you want to get off your butt and go kill someone?" I say. He glares at me. "No." He grumbles. I kick him. "Loser." I mumble. Then, I go sit down in our tent.

Terra Storm, D11, Unknown:

Where am I? I can only see fuzzy lights, hexagons with soft, caving edges. My hand feels around on the ground where I lay, head propped up on something. Where am I?

Ruby Steiner, D6, Flowery Field:

The mountains got to cold for me, the swirling wind that chills your heart. As if I need chilling. I settle on a rock, dwarfing the colorful candy-shaded blossoms. I enjoy the warm early summer air, the sun heating my back. My eye-lids droop a bit but I quickly flutter my tiredness away. I squint into the sun and focus on a puffy cloud floating lazily through the sky. I've always wanted to ride on a cloud. It must be peaceful and maybe, wet. I see the blonde flicker and start to sweat. Is it a tribute? A mutt? Something else? I stand up on my boulder, losing my footing on the smooth grey surface. I shade my eyes and search for the blonde flash again. I feel on guard and tense, knowing that this could be life or death. "H-hello?" I stutter. A girls head peers out at me through the flowers. She slowly rises and looks me in the eye. How did she get so close so fast and stealthily? She opens her mouth to begin, the closes it, blubbing like a fish. She shakes her head slightly. "Do you hate the careers?" She says. "Uh... yes...?" I say. She smiles. "Perfect." Then she climbs on to the rock and pulls me close. "I'm going to kill them." She mutters. "Sounds g-good!" I stammer. My eye catches on her backpack. She follows my gaze. "Want some food?" She says sympathetically. I nod my head eagerly. She whips out a pack of crackers. "All yours." She says as she reclines back on the stone. Maybe this alliance is good. I think I made the right choice. Her eyes are closed and her breathing slows. Is she asleep? It's only mid-day. Then, I hear a clunk on the ground. I half climb, half fall off the rock to see what it is. A silver parachute! I eagerly open it. Inside is a set of spears and spear heads, along with a small jar of a red liquid labeled "Poison." There is also a small piece of paper saying, "Thanks from District One." This definitely was the right choice, wasn't it?

Needreve Ssintak, D3, Ghost perspective:

I sway lightly in the breeze, as I can't do much else. I watch over those in the arena, and, as evil as it sounds, I'm betting on the winner. It will more than likely be a career. You know, careers always win. Although I'm not sure if the girl who left is still a career. She's probably got more of a chance than others. She's an ex-career. Brawn but with brains, this girl. I only wish I had had her brawn. Then, maybe I wouldn't be dead. I'd be alive and trying to win. But, we aren't all brawn and buff, are we? It's the difference between life and death here in the arena, and I played my cards wrong.

Forsynthia Heyfrie, Capitol citizen:

My goodness, this may be the most boring Hunger Games yet. Almost no tributes have died yet! This is the most boring one I've seen, and I've seen all 36. Of course, you wouldn't be able to tell by my looks. Don't I look dashing? *sigh* I hope I do.... Anyway, what is going on in the Game-maker's heads? They must be asleep or something! I swear! This is angering. I almost want to shut the telly off! Wait a minute.... what the...? What is happening? What is going on? This, I can't miss!

Bliss Diamond, D1, Edge of Flowery Field:

A traitor knows one thing: There is no going back. I am a traitor. Luckily, I don't need to go back. Because there'll be no Careers to return to. They'll all be dead. And I'll be happy when they are. If I'll be happy, then why is there this tugging feeling in my stomach, the shock running up my spine? I shake myself off and grasp Ruby's hand. "You ready?" I say, clinging to his hand like a life-line. He smiles. "Ready as I'll ever be." We got a few hours of sleep to ready ourselves for this fight, the fight that will give all us other tributes, not the careers, a chance at winning. Turns out, Ruby and I are natural friends. That's why I hold his hand now. It comforts me, and although he hasn't said a thing, I know it comforts him, too. We're ready. "Let's go." I say, letting go of his warm hand and stepping forward. He follows. We can see the Career camp from here. We march, stopping only when we break into the plain grass. I can see Cream and Jen, talking, not even suspicious of a thing. Perfect. "Get down," I hiss, and we flatten to our bellies. We slither through the grass like snakes, sneaky, sly, and venomous. As soon as we reach the Cornucopia, we hide behind it. I give Ruby's hand a squeeze and he smiles. He slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out a knife, a shiny, sharp thing, and tightens his grip on his poison-tip spears. He actually got them individually, but then dipped the spear heads into the red, sticky poison. I snap my fingers once and we fall into line together. Then, we attack.

Cream Donahew, D1, Career camp, Cornucopia field:

What do I see? What I've wanted to see for a few days now. But, not quite. The thing I've wanted to see probably wants to kill me, and she's got a lean, strong boy with her. 6, I think. "Jen!" I scream, and she comes charging out of the tent, ready to yell. She immediately sees the danger and grabs a spear for herself and one for me, but I decline. I've got my sword. I un-sheath it and charge at Bliss and her comrade, and Jen follows. Bliss's friend pulls out a spear and smiles. He chucks it at Jen but misses by an inch when Jen screams and ducks slightly. He whips out another one and they go at it, circling each other, spears aimed. Jen taunts him, and he taunts right back. Meanwhile, my attention is aimed at Bliss, who.... wait. Where is she? She was just there a second ago! I hear a rustle behind me and turn, but am stopped before I can by her scream. The most horrifying, blood-curdling scream she can muster. Jen.

Jen Dean, D4, Cornucopia field, Battle:

I came here to die. That is the whole purpose of the Hunger Games. It's almost like a task. And lucky me, I'm about to complete this task. The winner is the procrastinator, the one who waits. All the rest of us die. Those spears are not normal. Otherwise, I'd be in pain, as a spear is stuck in my stomach. But I only feel numb. A dull, numb pain. I look at the spear lodged into me and groan. I needed to win. But alas, I'm a loser. A big, fat loser. Just like my brother. I remember Reaping day. "I know you are, but what am I?" I can hear Jake laughing at me now. What am I? Dead. I know Jake's dead, but I am about to be, too. I feel my eyes become tight with tears and swallow them back. Tears do no good, now. They only cause more pain. Cream is bent over me now, whispering reassuring words, telling me it'll be alright. I'm no fool. Are you kidding me? I'm not okay. I'm not alright. I think, before I close my eyes for the last time, I see Cream cry.

Ruby Steiner, D6, Cornucopia Field, Battle:

I have killed someone. As her cannon echos throughout the crevasses of my mind, that's all I can think. I have killed this girl, who, without the Hunger Games, may have went on to get married, be a mother, live to an old age. But because of the Hunger Games, she has died, and it's all my fault. The large boy is crying. I think that he suddenly realized, too. That this is not fun and games. It is horrific, and blood-thirsty. He stops crying for a moment and looks up. He sights me, and he turns cold and unreachable. He stiffly stands up and frowns at me, red tear-lines cutting through his brown, coffee skin. We just stand there, staring each other down. With what? Pity? Shame? Hollowness? Anger? All of them. He drops his sword, and I drop my spear. And we just stare.

Bliss Diamond, D1, Cornucopia Field, Battle:

The two boys just stare at each other for a while. Cream is out of character, sensitive for once. I saw him cry when Jen died. They never liked each other, but he must have realized that the Hunger Games are different then we view them in the districts. In District 1, we view them as a way to represent the districts, fame with a price. Here in the arena, they are a prison, inescapable, where death is a blessing and winning is a hidden horror. Then, he looks up to the sun, sweltering in the sky. He snaps out of it, and catches Ruby by surprise. He charges at him, screaming, "WHY'D YOU KILL HER?????" Ruby runs towards the Cornucopia and climbs onto the top of it. Cream is not far behind. I must protect Ruby! There they are, sizing each other up on top of the golden horn. Both are weaponless, other than their hands. Ruby advances to push Cream off, but Cream blocks his hit and Ruby, unbalanced and wobbly, falls off the Cornucopia, thirty feet to the ground. And I hear the sickening crunch as he breaks his neck.

Ruby Steiner, D6, Cornucopia Field, Battle:

Leisel's mother cries because she is so happy to see me. Everybody hugs me and cheers for me. "Ruby! Ruby! Ruby!" They'd all say. I'd swell with joy and smile at everyone. I'd win lots of money and my whole district would get food for a year. Children would look well fed, stronger, happier. I'd go to the Capitol anytime I wished, and meet with other victors. Like myself.

But only if I had won. But I didn't, and I never will, because I am dead. I fell, and broke my neck, and died. Leisel's mother will cry. District six will mourn and be as poor as ever. Because I made a false move. Because I was stupid. If I hadn't made that move, I might still be alive, I might go on to win, and everything would be happy, serene. Some things, like my stupidity, I just cannot explain.

Cream Donahew, D1, Cornucopia, Battle:

I look away as the hovercraft collects his body, head hanging limply from his splintered neck. I consider jumping onto the claw, freeing myself from the arena. But I don't. Instead, I shimmy my way down the tail of the Cornucopia and meet my final opponent, Bliss. She stands there, staring vacantly at the spot where Ruby's body was. She looks up as I come closer and strikes a defensive pose. Then, her facial features soften, and she charges. I am weaponless, but I'll fight her off. As she leaps onto me, I prepare to beat her to a pulp, but Then I find that my lips interlock with hers, and we kiss. A long one, too. By the time it ends, my arms are wrapped around her, and she's dangling off the ground in my arms. She holds my face in her hands and her eyes are still closed when we break apart. She slowly, dreamily opens them and smiles. I can't help but to smile, too. She says, "Let's not leave each other anymore." I chuckle and say, "Okay, Bliss. I promise."

Tinder Leafs, D10, Forest:

I heard two cannons today. Two chances closer to coming home. It's dark now, and I can't see anything, but I can't sleep. I can't stop thinking about Aspen and Dawn. They haunt me, and I must come back. To them, to district 10. I miss the fields so much. The cows, sheep, horses to ride, chickens, and ducks. I even miss the smell of our district, the lovely mixture of cow, chicken, horse, and sheep manure. And others I can't place. Ick. But I miss it nonetheless. I'll lie in wait for more people to die and then throw myself into the games. A full-fledged tribute. Not a wimpy, cowering tribute who hides in the shadows. No, once my chances improve, I'll become the most deadly tribute these kids have seen. But seriously, I need to sleep now, or I'll have no strength for tomorrow. I close my eyes and lull myself into sleep.



Jen Dean, D4.

Ruby Steiner, D6.


No more official Careers....

Bliss Diamond, Cream Donahew.

Vriska Serket, Karkat Vantas.

Elexia Calather, Terra Storm (Unknown Location).

Treeden Jones, James Andre.

Extra Stuff to Know:

Fight: Ruby Steiner and Jen Dean killed, Bliss Diamond and Cream Donahew reunited.

Terra Storm missing.

Vriska Serket out cold, possibly in a coma.

11 tributes left!



Elexia Calather, D7, Forest:

The forest is foggy. And it's not just my mind. It's foggy today, very. I wake up and find that I can't see two feet in front of me. How convenient. How will I find Terra now? Is Terra still alive? Where is she? And what about Vriska? Is she alive, too? I stand up and stretch, my joints stiff from a day or two out cold. Or more. How long have I been knocked out? I take a tentative step forward, to make sure I can walk, then another, and another, until my legs feel not so jiggly. I'm feeling good and rested. Then I step on something bony but soft. I give a sharp shriek in terror and jump away. With the fog, I can't see what it is, so I bend down. It's a person or animal, and it's now moaning. I get closer and I see that it's a person. That boy. Karkat, Vriska's ally and district partner. She accidentally hit him in the head with a frying pan. He must have just waken up when I stepped on him. "Vrrrriiiiisssshhhhhkkkkaaaaahhhhh?" He mumbles. Should I pretend I'm Vriska? Or just leave him? "Um, I'm not Vriska....." I start, then stop. He might have a knife or something. "You know what, never mind." I quickly finish, then leave him on the ground and start off through the fog to find Terra.

Bobbin Young, D8, Edge of Forest:

I saw the kiss last night. In fact, I saw all of it. And it confused me. A romance during the games? It's futile. Only one winner allowed. One or both of them will die. I think another pair like each other. From twelve, maybe. I don't know. I saw the whole scene. After the explosion, I ran - or hobbled, I mildly injured my foot - to safer ground. I got all the way to the edge of the forest before nearly collapsing. After setting up camp, I heard a scream. I saw the blonde girl die, the boy's fight on the Cornucopia, the one boy die, and the kiss. So, I think it's time for a reality check. You can't love another tribute. Something stupid will happen if you do. So, I think I'll teach these lovers a little lesson, Bobbin style.

Bliss Diamond, D1, Cornucopia Field:

One thing I must say about Cream: Mmmmmmm. He's a good kisser. A great one. That's pretty much what today is: Kiss day. Oh yes. We currently are standing, kissing. Like usual, nowadays. Our lips interlock, our noses touch, our foreheads pressed together. I am so enjoying this! All is serene, and romantic, to say the least. Then, I feel Cream's body shudder, and he coughs into my mouth. A metallic, warm fluid lands on my tongue. I'd know it anywhere. It's blood. I jerk away, and he coughs some more, blood spurting. "Cream? Cream?" He just coughs and haggles with his back. I get it, someone knifed him! I twirl him around and see the knife, not deep in, right in the shoulder. Has it punctured a lung? I pull out the knife and race towards our supplies. I grab three different medical kits and grab a bandage. Messily and hurriedly, I unwrap it and stick it onto the wound. He coughs again, then croaks, "Thanks." Then I see her. A tiny girl, 12 or 13 at the most, standing there, about 50 meters away. I know. She knifed him. I lunge at her, but she's too fast. Her black mane of hair is zooming into the forest by the time I've reached where she once was. I turn to Cream. "I'll be back. Stay alive." Then, I race into the forest, knife in hand, after her.

Karkat Vantas, D5, Forest:

The girl whizzes by me. What? I know something's up. I start to run after her, but I'm slow, since I just woke up earlier today. I'm running, but what is she running from? I turn around and see a blonde girl, Career maybe, charging full speed. Uh oh. I run, stumbling and tripping. She must see me, because her smile grows and she runs after me. She jumps on me and I feel a wet feeling in my chest. Then I cough up blood on her. She flips me over and her face goes from glorious to horrified. "W-what have I done? You aren't a girl!" I cough some more. "No duh." I sputter. "But I'll die nonetheless." She gets a vacant look on her face. "I-I am so sorry!" She cries out. "Don't be!" I say as I feel my lungs filling up with blood. I'll die like the freak I am. "What are you waiting for? After her!" I shout as the Career gets up off of me. She smiles at me, obviously humored by my death-bed logic, and says a silent "Thank you." Then, she runs off and leaves me to die. A final effort to Vriska, who I hated, and probably still will when I'm dead, I scream, "VRISKAAAAA!"

Vriska Serket, D5, Forest:

A distant shout brings me out of the watery prison in which I am trapped, left to die, but I can't die. The waves ripple around me, and I'm visited by my friends - or people who used to be my friends. The distant scream of my name gives me the passage to the real world. My eyes flutter open for real this time. I feel my real legs. My real arms. The world is side-ways, though. I turn my head and find it correct-ways. Then, I realize I'm laying down, almost wrapped around a tree. I have no memory of what happ- yes I do. I do. I ran, and I was in an explosion, then I got knocked into a tree. Right? I think so. The call of my name still echos in my mind. Only one person I know can muster that call. Karkat. I try to call his name, but I can't. I am an avox. I can't speak. Whether it's an injury or just hoarseness, I can't tell. My head really hurts. I think I'll take a nap.

Terra Storm, D11, Unknown:

A low growling wakens me. I squint in the darkness, trying to make out shapes. The cold, hard floor is slippery beneath my sweaty hands. I lift myself on my elbows and shakily say, "Hello?" In response, I get a mean growl from the darkness. This is an animal, I think, and I start to panic. I unsteadily stand on my wobbly feet and ask once agin, "Hello?" There is no reply. I search blindly for a wall or ceiling, and I find one. Stone, cold, and bumpy. I press against it, and immediately feel a shudder. Then, the wall crumbles and my weight pulls me forward into a blinding white light. Before I am engulfed by the burning white substance, I see my little Luna, sitting in the cave thingy where I once was. She cocks her little head and says something that I can't hear. "Lun-?" I manage to stutter before I am swallowed whole by the bright, acidic death trap.


Lesiel Hammerman, Ghost Perspective:

"Yeah, I know!" She says as she pulls her red bangs behind her ears. Her friend, a tall boy with brown hair and a crooked smile, nods his head. A clueless blonde joins in the conversation uninvited, but no one really cares. They talk about crazy people that they have met, funny memories, and tell jokes. A girl with long, dark, braided hair hangs around the punch bowl with her friend, a blonde boy. They joke and eat chips. A silent, sulky type sits on the couch, absent-mindedly reading a magazine cover on the table. A few more friends are there, too. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. The red-head goes to answer it with a slightly depressed face. But why? No one knows, except those at the party themselves. A brunette in her early teens introduces herself and walks into the room, straight for the punch bowl. "Man, you will not believe how thirsty I am!" She says to no one in particular, but those who heard laugh. What is the cause of this party?

It is hard to say, yet easy as the answer escapes your mouth. The Hunger Games brought these people here. They are all dead, no longer to breathe or speak to their family again. And yet here they are, partying away. Maybe it is to give them the illusion of happiness, to forget it all and absorb themselves in joking and dancing. It is hard to say why they do this. It is hard to say why they choose to cover up sadness with joy. It is hard to say why the Hunger Games were invented. Yes, my friend, it is quite hard to say plenty of things.

Krallem Ateep's sister: A memory of home:

Rosemary and her husband watch the games intently. They have no purpose to anymore, but they are forced to. They watch intently for the moment the murderer is dead. Killed. Gone. Rosemary wants to curse. Or cry. Or kick something. But she must restrain.

I can tell how hard she is trying. Rosemary is my mother, and the mother of my brother, Krallem. He was the first one to die. We own District three's bread shop. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, screaming for Krallem to come home. But deep inside somewhere, I know he won't. 23 children will never come home to their mothers, like Rosemary. Or their fathers and siblings, like me. Even at 7 years old, I believe that I finally understand what the Hunger Games are. They are a thief.



Karkat Vantas, D5.

Terra Storm, D11.


Bliss Diamond, Cream Donahew.

Treeden Jones, James Andre.



Elexia Calather, D7, Forest:

Oh. My. God. Terra's dead. I saw her last night, smiling. Though she really has no reason to be smiling. She is dead. I am not, though, and I guess while I've been dreading this moment forever, it has a good side to it. I will never know how she died. I will be comforted by the fact that I can come up with her death. I decide that she died peacefully in her sleep like old men commonly do, though my gut tells me I'm wrong. I just tell my gut to shut up. I am convinced that I am right, Terra's death was peaceful. And I'm one step closer to home, one step closer to my family and friends. And Maple. But that's a con, not a pro. This morning, I said goodbye to Terra one last time and packed up my stuff. I didn't even bother to cry for her, because I knew she wouldn't have won, anyway. As sad as it is, she wouldn't have. And now, I probably won't win, either. I will starve. We relied on each other. I did the fighting and she did the food-gathering. As I trudge through these God-forsaken woods, I tell Terra that I love her and wish her luck in the afterlife, or whatever is past this short, stupid life of ours.

Cream Donahew, D1, Cornucopia Field:

I look back to day one, when Bliss was missing, and Grain strangled her. I feel the same. Desperate, confused, and overall, angry. I don't care about the girl who knifed me, I don't care about her. For all I care, she can die right now. But not in the hands of Bliss. Because Bliss' hands should be holding mine. I cry out, "Bliss? Bliss!" Just like in the Bloodbath. To bring her back to me.

Bliss Diamond, D1, Forest:

I see the girl ahead of me, running like the fast little demon she is. I hate this girl, I hate her. Then, I hear something I haven't heard for nine days, and it sends a shiver down my spine. "Bliss? Bliss!" It brings me back to day one, that horrid, nasty day when I almost died. It's Cream. "Cream!" I shout, stopping. I let the girl race away. Cream needs me now.

Thread Young, D8, Ghost perspective

(Written by Kitty, one of Sparrow's friends)

I never thought Bobbin could be so tough. When we were young, I always mocked her, made fun of her, called her a wimp. But now, she's outrunning careers, knifing others and surviving. Oh, god, surviving. Like I couldn't. Now that I see her true self, I wonder how I thought I could ever win. I'm glad I'm dead. If I was still alive, I would probably die by her hands. I feel bad about volunteering, wanting to outdo her. She's outdone me now.

I'm sorry. Go, Bobbin. Win for both of us.

Fluffums, Terra's cat:

Yesterday, the girl's sisters, brother, and I watched the box. You know, the bright, blinky one? Well, we watched it intently. I have no idea why. It's not interesting, and the box doesn't taste good, either. I checked. Suddenly, the children scream. The youngest burst into tears. Why? I padded around to see what was on the blinky box that caused this. There was the girl! On the box! And she was being swallowed by whiteness! I hissed at the box, to make the girl come home. Maybe she would hear me and find the strength to escape! But she didn't. She sank under and a loud, booming noise echoed out of the box. The girl was gone. I yowled at the box, but she didn't come back. Then, anger building up inside of my little cat body, I lept at the box on the table. I pushed onto it with my paws. The box fell to the floor and smashed.Bright lights and strange, fizzy noises came out. The tears stopped and laughs began. The children started laughing at the box! At me! Proudly, I strutted into the bedroom where I used to sleep with the girl. From now on, I guess I'll have to sleep with myself. Yesterday was the day I lost the girl but defeated the box. The girl would be proud.

Emrick Oak, D7, Ghost Perspective:

One problem with those of us who aren't dead - they can't see what's right under their noses. I want to scream to Elexia. Tell her to watch out. Tell her not to do anything stupid. But then again, knowing Elexia, she will do something stupid. And I can't stop her. I float over her, hoping she'll sense my presence. She might, I can tell by her twitchiness, but she shakes it away! No! I need to tell her! No, Elexia! No! Why do you have to be so stupid? You're walking right into a trap of sorts! Elexia!

Elexia Calather, D7, Forest:

I am so tired, I think my legs could fall off. I have been walking for hours, and hours in the forest. In circles, making sharp turns, going anyway I feel like. I think I can see a break in the woods, which means that I've reached the edge of this segment, that I'm free. Then, I hear a young scream. A girl's scream almost, just a little more mature. She's screaming, "No! Please, don't!" I race after the voice. I can't let another young tribute die. Not after Terra.

Fido Fiderson, D9, Forest:

After my spear floated back to me, I ditched the whole desert thing (talk about sunburn! NOT good for dancing). I decided to head to the forest, where things might be less hot. Good news: it is cooler here. Phew. So now my main problem is sponsors. Sponsors like tough people who can dance AND kill. So I need to prove that I can kill. And once I do, it's final eight, and then, I can kill others and get multiple sponsors. So guess what good luck I had when I found this girl sleeping on the ground? I can kill. She is screaming, "No! Please, don't!" But I will. I'm not merciless. I aim my spear at her and prepare to throw it, but then the girl flies out of no where and instead, my spear enters her chest and her knife breaks the skin of my throat.

Tinder Leafs, D10, Forest:

Why did I ever think I could win? As he aims his spear, I close my eyes and wince, but I feel nothing. I cautiously open my eyes and see one of the girls I helped and the boy who was going to kill me laying on the ground. The girl has a spear lodged in her chest, possibly a lung, and the boy has a knife stuck into his throat. What have I done? By being caught, I have caused two deaths. Because the boy was about to kill me, and I take no respect in that, I crawl over to the girl and place her head in my lap. Then, she starts to speak to me.

Elexia Calather, D7, Forest:

I start to blab. "I am so sorry." I start, then words just flow out. "I can't ever say how sorry I am to you. I'm sorry to my mother, too. I lied to her. I told her I would come back. I told her a lie. I'm sorry, mom. Please forgive me. Please, mommy." By now, I'm whimpering like a little child. A child of sixteen years old. I whimper, and start again. "And I'm sorry to you too, dad. You died so early on, and I didn't appreciate your love until you died. I'm sorry, dad. So sorry." The girl has started combing my hair with her petite fingers. "It's okay" she coos. But it won't be. I will leave this world as a failure. I scream in pain. "I'm sorry to you, too, Emrick." I whisper. "It wasn't your fault. It was mine." Tears of pain, joy, and love streak my face as I whimper like a small, innocent, helpless baby. In my mother's arms. At home, in my district, where I belong. A tight feeling overcomes me and I burst out a small, final, "Thank you." To the girl before I close my eyes and wait for my sweet friend death to come.

Fido Fiderson, D9, Forest:

I feel unloved. The young one went to the girl instead of me. Of course, this makes sense, but it feels unjust. She saved her, and I tried to kill her. I let out a small whimper that says everything I have wanted to say. Nothing. I know that I really need one thing right now that I won't be getting. I need care. But what does a killer get? Nothing. I cough and blood splashes onto my face, my wretched face. The face of a killer. The face of a dead boy, who was lost, but found his way home. A dead boy with nowhere to run, but a beckoning beacon of hope to cling to. I am that boy. The lost one. The coldest, darkest places wait for me in death. I am unsure of whether I want to die, to face the consequences of my cold blood. But the beacon lifts me away, and the warmth is what I have always wanted, what I have yearned for all these days I have existed. I want the warmth. So I go for it. I will have the warmth, the light, the sweet song of death.

Tinder Leafs, D10, Forest:

The boy dies before the girl. His cannon blares and his weak smile fades as his muscles loosen. Why was he smiling? I know. Because death is a blessing. The girl is still in my lap, breathing softly. Her eyes are lightly closed, as if she is merely drifting off to sleep. I need to ask her one thing, before she dies. "What is your name?" I ask her. A stupid question, but I must know her name. She smiles through closed lips and says, "Me? My name is Nobody. I have no name anymore. My name used to be Elexia. But I am no longer anyone. Goodbye, Terra. I must go now." Then, she softens her smile and her cannon blares. Terra? My name isn't Terra. But she must have been confused. I know I certainly am. I lightly lower her head to the ground and get up. A tear finds it's way out of my eye. The tear of many thanks. Thank you, dear Nobody, if that is what you wish to be called, for saving my life. And thank you, boy, for what, I'm not sure. But something compels me to thank you. You deserve it. You both do.



Elexia Calather, D7.

Fido Fiderson, D9. (We will miss his pole-dancing)


Bliss Diamond, Cream Donahew.

Treeden Jones, James Andre.



Vriska Serket, D5, Forest:

Seven left. Two boys, five girls. I am one of the five girls. I am surprised that the majority is girls. Girls are always seen as weak, incompetent with killing. But we are not. And this Hunger Games proves it. Us girls outsmarted, out-killed, and out-did the boys. I always knew girls were smarter, and in the end, better. No offense to boys or anything. Boys can kill just fine. Boys can be smart. Boys are brutal, vicious beasts. As are girls. But this Hunger Games, the very one I'm participating in, proves that girls can rise above boys, that we are better in ways. And we are. So if I make it out, become a victor, I know that I will train my tributes right, especially the girl. Because girls win. Girls kick butt.

Bobbin Young, D8, Forest:

When I awoke this morning and found a little surprise - a silver parachute containing a bottle of gasoline - I was perplexed. Is my mentor crazy? She's smart, but isn't this a little crazy? I think. Hmm. Gasoline. What can you use gasoline for? You can't eat it, drink it, or use it as a weapo- yes you can. Oh, thank you! I blow a kiss to the sky and formulate a plan. Alrighty, then, I've got a new, deadly, stealthy weapon - and no other tribute can beat it. Hmph.

Elexia Calather, D7, Ghost Perspective:

Death was how I expected it. Warm, yet unforgiving, Soft, yet hard to chew over. Mmm. Death, it's what we fear, yet we have no reason to. It's rather peaceful, to me. It took all the pain away, and I felt new again. A girl wise for her years yet fresh out of the womb. Death is ironic like that. I saved the girl, though. That's what matters. I couldn't let her die, like Terra. Never, ever will I let my absence kill someone. I always find myself apologizing to Terra, it's somewhat routine. I wonder if she can hear me. Even if she could, she'd probably never forgive me. Then, I feel a tap on the shoulder. Behind me is the ghostly spectrum of Terra! "Terra!" I shriek. We attempt to hug each other, but as ghosts, we fail. She says, "I forgive you, Elexia. It was my fault. Not yours. Let's stick together from now on though, okay?" I smile and a feeling of relief washes over me. Relief that I am forgiven. Relief that I am not alone. And best of all, the relief that I finally have a purpose. To protect Terra, whether she needs it or not.

Bliss Diamond, D1, Cornucopia Field:

I sigh as I patch up Cream's knife wound. As I gently re-aply the bandage, I ask, "Cream, do you want to go get the girl who tried to kill you?" After a moment's pause, he simply says, "Yes." I finish the bandage work and stand up. I offer my hand to Cream and he accepts it, his rough hands meeting my smooth, petite ones. I'm glad that he's not as independent anymore. That he accepts my help. We turn ourselves towards the forest. I take a deep breath, and tell myself not to panic. Cream must have seen me, because he says, "Hey, we're Careers. Killing is what we do." Next, he kisses me on the nose, a sweet contradiction to his harsh words. Then, we run off into the forest.

James Andre, D12, Desert:

How long has it been since Twelve has had a tribute make it to the final eight? Actually, how long has it been since two Twelve tributes made it this far? Did playing it safe help Treeden and I survive? It must have, or else I'd be dead. I smile at Treeden, and she smiles at me, too. A sweet, natural smile that comes on occasion. The occasion when a really funny joke is told. When two lovers are joined. When children play carelessly, naive in their little worlds. That's the smile she gave me. And I like it. "James?" she says, voice cautious. "Yes, Treeden?" I ask. "Should we, like, leave here, go to the forest? I would really like the forest better..." Immediately, I think, "Too many tributes in the woods." But my heart says to go with Treeden. "Alright." I murmur. "Tomorrow, love. Tomorrow."

Grain Follows, D11, Ghost Perspective:

It's a shame that I didn't go on further. Those two Careers can kiss my butt. I mean, seriously. They are chasing after a young girl, like... my lifeless heart lurches as I think of Marie. I need to find her. But I am imprisoned in this arena, not by my own deathly self, but by my sanity. I must see who wins. I cannot stand these games, yet I am grotesquely, intensely stuck to them. Like a dog after its abusive owner. I want to leave, find Marie. But I can't. I'm not sure why, but I can't. Sorry, Marie. Wait for me.

Cream Donahew, D1, Forest:

Pfft. I hate that girl, who thought she could kill me, who thought she could win, even. Because she won't. Because Bliss and I will kill her. Together. And one of us will win. Preferably me. But Bliss winning would be good, too. I smile at her as we run through the woods, looking for any signs of black hair and tan skin. Suddenly, I stop in my tracks. I hear an evil-sounding laugh coming from behind a tree. It may be evil, but it's also young. And the youngest tribute in the arena is the one we are looking for. "Bliss! Move in!" I scream. The laughing stops, and then I see black hair whooshing back and forth as she runs. Then she stops and fumbles with her backpack nervously. She pulls out a black bottle and shakily pours it on the ground. What is she doing? Then, she slowly backs away. I charge after her, hearing Bliss yelp, "Ouch! My foot!" I hear a thump that must be Bliss, hitting the ground. Guess I'll have to do this myself. I run for the girl, with the black hair, the thin figure, the smug grin across her face. Beneath all that is nervousness. Another victim. She whips out a short stick thing and strikes it against a box. It lights on fire. A match! Calmly, she throws the match to my feet. I laugh and raise my foot to stomp it out, but not before the fire catches on whatever she poured and engulfs my body in mean, unforgiving flames.

Bliss Diamond, D1, Forest:

I howl in pain as I feel the dull hurt of a twisted ankle. "Ouch! My foot!" I cry out. Cream ignores me and runs for the girl. Not like I mind. I squeeze my eyes shut so I can prevent myself from crying, it hurts that bad. Then, I hear a scream and see Cream, or what I think is Cream, on fire, in a panic. "Get down, Cream, Get down!" I screech. He obeys and falls to the floor. "Roll over!" I command. He does as I say. When the flames are finally out, I cautiously crawl over to his burned, limp body. I place my hand inches above his flesh, to see if he is still hot. He is screeching in pain, yelling, "Make it go away! GO AWAY! AHHHH!" I silence him with a gentle finger to his lips, which are conveniently un-burned. "Cream, Cream, it's okay." I coo. "No it's not. It's not okay" He whimpers. His eyes find mine. Through all that red, burned, scalded skin, there is hope. "Bliss, if you love me, take the pain away. Kill me now." I can't stifle my gasp in time. Kill him? No! I love him! But... if he said so.... I must. For my love. I raise my knife. I lean over and kiss him gently as I stab his heart with a bursting pain of a thousand deaths. Goodbye, love, friend, enemy, ally, and even life itself. Goodbye, Cream. I love you.

Tinder Leafs, D10, Forest:

A cannon. It means nothing to me anymore. Just a noise. It means nothing but hope. Not for the dead tribute, but for myself. One step closer to home. I watch as the sun slowly falls, gracing the arena with a sad, wordless song. A song of hope for those alive, a song of grief for those who are dead. A song of nothing at all. Nothing means anything. What an oxymoron. But then again, life is an oxymoron. We are alive, yet we live our lives dead. Work, sleep, work, sleep. Is that a way to live? I'm not sure I want to live if that is what life will be like. But I do not want to die. Life is an oxymoron, isn't it?



Cream Donahew, D1.


Treeden Jones, James Andre.



Bobbin Young, D8, Forest:

I feel guilty. I mean, killing is one thing, but burning someone to death is a bit sadistic. Is this really what my mentor wanted? For me to burn an innocent boy to death? Alright, maybe he wasn't innocent, but he was still a boy. Young, like me. Many years ahead of him, stolen. By me. No, by the Hunger Games. I just did the dirty work. The work of a tribute. The work of a victor. I will be that victor. I mean, I may be the youngest tribute in the arena, but I have probably killed more tributes than the other kids. Way more. Because not only have I had a number of victims, I have also killed myself. Even the warm, late morning sunshine doesn't cheer me up. Back at home, it might have. But here, it's just another reminder of where I am. An oven, of sorts. The heat is on, the timer's ticking, and there's no escape.

Vriska Serket, D5, Forest:

"Lalalalalalala, hey Vriska." A voice behind me cheers. It has been doing this all day. The first time I heard it, I thought it was actually my ex-friend Kanaya, but no one was there. I assume it's all in my head. "Vriska, you never forgave me.... I hate you, Vriska." Stop it! I want to scream, but I must keep my cool, I can't crack because some stupid voice tells me it hates me. But, what is it? I can't tell. "Vriska Serket, you are a little devil. You are mean, evil, sadistic and hungry for power. Are those good characteristics?" The voice says. SHUT UP, I think, but it doesn't listen. "You're a bad person, Vriska. A very bad person." I whip around. This is not my head. "SHUT UP!" I screech. Then, I start to yell things that come out of my mouth unexpected. I don't even know what I'm saying. What am I saying? I fall to the ground and start to pound my fist against the soft earth. "SHUT UP YOU FRICKIN' STUPID IDIOT!" I screech, twitching uncontrollably. I hear a slight rustle behind me. I spy a cute little animal. The animal's snout opens and out comes, "Vriska, you are bad. Nobody likes you." My brain clicks. This stupid animal, mutt even, has been tormenting me! "DIE!" I shriek. Then, I feel a slight snap and my world gets fuzzy as the animal delivers a death bite to my neck. Ohhhhh..... That hur- BOOM!

Dusk Shivers, D10, Ghost Perspective:

I watch over Tinder though we were never close. There seems to be a bond we share now. A bond that all 24 of us tributes share. The bond of unjust. Only one can win. That's how it is in most games. How is it unfair now? Because the wages of loss are your life. And I lost. Pathetically, hopelessly lost. At the bloodbath. Pathetic. So now I watch over Tinder, who just might win. There are only five left. Her chances are one out of five. Better than one out of twenty-four. But not a definite win. I mean, there's that D1 girl to contend with. She's fierce. And blazing with agony and revenge. Who did Tinder lose? A boy she barely even knew? Yes. Not much to her. But still, a wage of winning. A wage of losing, too. She could die any moment. She is not safe until she is out of the arena. And even then, she may not be safe. But if there is anything in my power to help her survive and be safe, I will do it. For Tinder, my family, my district, Panem.

Treeden Jones, D12, Forest:

James and I are now in the woods, like he promised! I like it much better here! I can see the break where the flowers start and the trees end. Earlier, we took a break so I could hunt and we could eat. Finally! Hunting! Rejoice! About 20 minutes later, we started walking again, and here we are. Then, my mind clicks. "Oh, James! I left my bow and arrows at our break place! I'll go get them. You stay here." Then, I run off to our previous location. Five minutes into running, I can feel a cramp. Ugh. I trip and almost fall over something. My bow and arrows! I grab them and string the sheath over my shoulder and place my bow over my other shoulder. Then, I start to run back. Then, I hear the scream and a cannon. James? "James!" I screech, to make sure it wasn't him. I run to where I last saw him. There, where I stand is what I have dreaded. James' dead body! I gasp. A knife is stuck into his back. Oh, James. You - I - Uh.... James... It can't be... James...? Oh my gosh. I see a blonde girl smiling wickedly in the flowers. She killed him. I scream at her and charge, but she runs away. I stop, I know it's not even worth it. I loom at James' dead body, a sad lump of boy that I loved. Still do. I pull the knife from his back and raise it to my throat, to kill myself. A young voice pulls me up short. "Don't kill yourself. What a waste of a life that'd be."

Bobbin Young, D8, Forest:

I had to stop her. Kill herself over a boy? It's just like the career girl, Bliss, I think. That's stupid. I spoke up. She gasped and turned. I revealed myself and said, "Just remember, it's better than you and him in the final battle." She weakly nods. "Now lets scram. So they can collect his body." Her hollow eyes stare through me. Then, she bends down and lightly kisses him. I hold out my hand. She cautiously takes it and we walk, hand in hand, away from the past and into the future. Us two unofficial allies. I like her. I trust her. She won't kill me. We'll be allies. Allies for now.

Tinder Leafs, D10, Forest:

I truly believe that the impossible does happen. Here is proof: I am still alive. I am not butt-kicking like Bobbin, a Career like Bliss, or even lucky, like Treeden. I am none of the above, yet I am still alive. Why? I'm not sure. I'll have to figure it out. But I'll have to be quick because I might die any second. Any second. Why am I still alive? Life is an oxymoron.



Vriska Serket, D5.

James Andre, D12.


Treeden Jones, Bobbin Young.



Bobbin Young, D8, Forest:

Still. Silent. This is how things should be. Treeden, that's her name, sleeps on the ground next to me. I lay on my back and stare at the sky. How nice it would be to be a bird - anything but us humans. We are stupid beings as a collective. I mean, The Hunger Games is a prime example. Killing our own children - the people in charge are stupid - which gives us in the districts the smoldering label as well. We are all stupid, whether we are or aren't individually. I may be an A+ student, but I'm a member of the stupidest race on Earth. How's that for a smack in the face from reality? To me, it certainly is. A hard, burning smack that leaves an aching, red bruise. The bruise of stupidity.

Bliss Diamond, D1, Flowery Field:

I have to win now. I'll go and personally kill all those tributes if I could. Just to win. My heart is hardened into a rock. I no longer have feelings. I am an animal, hungry for victims. Vicious and self-important. I never look back on a kill. Not now. Now, I think I'll hunt a tribute, like the ravenous beast I am.

And I find one. Not just one, but two. A young girl and an older girl. The young one is awake and on her feet immediately. She kicks the older one to wake her up. The older one, seeing the danger, me, goes into battle mode. I see her neck muscles clench, her face harden, her legs flex. But I am more ready than she is. I think I'll fight the big one. She'd be easier to kill. But I have to watch my back - the little one killed Jake, a full-grown 18 year old Career. I lunge at the older girl, yowling and screeching. I land her to the forest floor and take out a knife. I prepare to stab her, but she rolls over and now I'm on the bottom. I can feel the younger one kicking me. I grip my opponent's arms and roll her over and over and over and over, until I'm absolutely dizzy. I keep rolling though, to give myself time. Just when I formulate a plan, we both roll into the well disguised-game maker trap.

Treeden Jones, D12, Forest:

My first thought is that I cannot breathe. And I cant. Because I'm in a liquid of some sorts. Clear like water but to thick to be water. I don't even think I can swim in it. I try to thrash around but I cannot. I am stuck in some sort of glue. Bliss is terrified. She is trying to escape. It's futile, and pointless. Just let yourself die, I think. But she is obviously not thinking the same thing as I am. She is trying to scream for help, but she's just filling up her mouth with the noxious stuff. It smells all chemically. I think I'm crying, but I can't tell. All I can feel is my head getting lighter and lighter as I run out of oxygen. My eyes flutter a bit. I'm so tired. And I feel like a balloon, ready to burst. Bliss is still trying to get herself out of it. But when she sees my calm demeanor, she stops fussing. She knows it's pointless now. That we both will die slow, horrible deaths. Before I pass out from lack of oxygen and everything goes blank, I think I see her say, "I'm sorry." Oh Bliss, I am too. And then, I'm gone, and a blinding white light takes all of my fears and pain away.

Bobbin Young, D8, Forest:

I cannot feel myself anymore. I have just watched the most gruesome deaths in the entire games. My kills don't even compete. Not even close. I feel sick. I nearly fall in my pursuit to sit. I need to sit. Now. Or I might get sick. Poor Treeden and Bliss. Both torn by love and killed by game-makers. I feel absolutely horrible. Then, an evil, animal instinct inside of me swells and grows. I am through with these games. I WILL WIN! I can't go on any further. No further. I burst into tears, thick, hot tears that calm me down. Just a bit though. I wail like a dog, left on a chain for years, never loved. I wail for my own sake, and Bliss and Treeden's. And I wail for the girl whose death is sure to be sickening and heart wrenching. Because she will die, and I'll go home, and life will be better than it is in this wretched arena.

Tinder Leafs, D10, Forest:

A booming voice startles me. It's Claudius. "All remaining tributes, Bobbin and Tinder, please report to the Cornucopia. Thank you, and may the odds be ever in your favor." Alright. I'm ready to win. Ready to die. Ready for anything. Anything at all. I pack up my meager supplies and head towards the gleaming yellow horn in the distance. Let's go.

As I reach the golden horn, I sigh in relief. Bobbin is not here yet. I can climb the horn and have the advantage. I climb the horn, that gives life but takes it away. The Cornucopia. I pull out my only weapon, a knife, and wave my hands, shouting, "WHERE ARE YOU, BOBBIN? I'M RIGHT HERE! COME ON, BOBBIN!" She isn't anywhere.... where is she? Then, I see shiny black hair and a tan face peeking out of the woods. She trudges out sadly, head hanging and sees me. She doesn't turn, like a coward. She doesn't charge, like a career. She does it like a hero. She admits the truth. I allow her time to climb the Cornucopia. Then, I circle her. "Fancy seeing you." I purr. She hangs her head and says, "Look. I don't want to fight you. But if we must, then, I'll get personal." This shocks me. Then, she opens her arms in a hug. Cautiously, I accept her hug. She is a good hugger, I think, but then, I feel the wicked blade pierce my shoulder and her wicked laugh. She has backstabbed me. I shriek and back away. I nearly lose my footing on the mid-day hot metal. I wrench the knife out of my shoulder blade and hiss at her, like a cat. She wickedly laughs, like a wench. "You fell for it, imbecile. I wonder how you made it this long. You're a complete idiot." These horrid, mean words burn holes in my thin skin. I want to kill her, so bad. So bad. "I used to be nice. But these are the games, Tinder. You really expect someone to be polite when they're trying to kill someone?" She snarls. She's only a year younger than me, but she has the ferocity of the meanest peacekeeper yet. I hate her. I want her dead. So with this wicked thought in my head, I jab the bloody knife into her tan, thin neck.

Bobbin Young, D8, Cornucopia:

I take back all those words, those kills, those snarky comments. Because I shouldn't have done that. I should have stayed the polite, quiet, little girl I was. But I wanted to dominate the arena. And I did. Until I was out-done. And the price of this out-doing is my life. I choke and gurgle on my own putrid blood. I yank the knife out of my throat and feebly throw it off the Cornucopia. Then, I collapse to my knees. "I-I'm sorry." I sputter. "You're not an imbecile. You're very smart. I was wrong-g. Do you f-forgive me?" I choke out, crying. My blood mixes with my tears and creates a soupy mixture of pain. The girl leans down. "Yes. I do. These are the Hunger Games, Bobbin. You can't be polite. And you were perfect. You were the best tribute yet." My lungs are too full of my own blood to say anything else. She smiles at me, but this does nothing for me. I almost won. Victory was in my hands. But I threw it away. In a tiresome effort, I say my final words: "I'm so sorry, to you all. Goodbye, for now." For now. That sounds good, like I'll see her again. She's crying. The tears land on my face, a rain shower of fear and pain. I see my brother. He extends his hand. I need that hand now. I grip his calloused fingers and he pulls me away. Into the freshest world I can imagine.

Daisies grow in the soft green earth. Butterflies happily flutter around, carefree. A soft song fills the air. It is my own voice. I dance in the meadow, where there is peace and stillness. I giggle like the girl I am. I am no longer in pain. I am happy now. My brother is with me, singing the harmonies. He's not good, but his voice fills me with a happiness brighter than a thousand suns. He twirls me around and smiles down at me. "I'm so happy you've come, Bobbin." He whispers. A thousand suns twirl around in my mind, dancing, burning bright. A thousand suns.



Tinder Leafs, A final goodbye:

Life is an oxymoron. Filled with twists and turns. And we should live it fully. I still remember that final day in the arena, forgiving Bobbin. She needed to be forgiven. And she deserved it. All 23 of the tributes did. They need to be forgiven for the things they've done, the words they've said, the accidents that have happened.

I still have nightmares occasionally. Sometimes, though, a memory that is pleasant will come. When my stylist hugged me and showered me with adoration. Aspen's little face when I returned home. These are the memories I love. And I can't take life for granted. It's too short. A little too short for some of us, like Bobbin or Dusk. And The Hunger Games are a slap of reality. But we must get over the wounds we have and continue on with it. We cannot call ourselves living if on the inside, we are dead. Yes, my friends, life is an oxymoron.

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