I'm so terribly sorry about the delay, I'm currently just recovering from illness I caught the day I posted the male entries? Around that time anyways. I just didn't have the energy in me to even get onto my iPad. It was so bad. Anyways, I'm recovering, and I'm back and ready to put in my all. I hope you guys are ready too :) For now though, enjoy the entries. Sorry there isn't much formatting I can do right now, because I'm kinda really busy, but I hope you enjoy them nonetheless.
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District 2 - Melody Hart

The girl from Two managed to swipe up some goodies from the Cornucopia before she raced away, dashing up a grand staircase to escape all the gory blood and death.

Used Automatic 12

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District 3 - Fay Everrett - DROPPED OUT

I feel the blood from my side wound trickle through the cracks between my fingers. The warm crimson liquid almost unthaws my frozen fingers as I try to run towards the wide hallway, collapsing every so often. The only ones left at Cornucopia are some Careers scouting to kill any hiding tributes. But they don't come after me; they know I'm weakened and weaponless.

I limp into the large, gaping doorway to the hall. Seconds later, I collapse onto my bad side, sending white hot pains through my chest and leg.

Trying to rid of the unbearable pain, I curl up into a ball, closing my eyes. I knew there was no longer any point of surviving, so I lay there for what felt like hours, recounting the hazy memories of the Bloodbath.

A few ten minutes earlier I had opened my eyes to a cold airy room. The room closely resembles a small cottage, except for the huge horn of plenty in the center. Everything glittered blue and silver as I turned around to survey the view.

Other tributes were also looking around, finding their targets. An older looking tribute locks eyes with me and I shiver. Was it from the girl's hard, intimidating stare or the cold wind blowing on my bare cheeks, I wasn't sure.

Her strong muscular body shifted, she was so strong, that her strength could be mistaken as a boy's.

I knew it would be dangerous for me to try to get to the center of the Cornucopia to try getting a pack- which not to mention looked amazing, all wrapped pristine and also the bags were shaped like stockings, lining the inside and outside of the Cornucopia.

My dagger in hand, I waited for the countdown to begin.
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
A loud cannon goes off, ringing throughout the entire room. I take a turn behind me, where a huge open hallway welcomes everyone trying to leave the room.

I decided that my sole knife would be enough for now, but I would need more support from other supplies. Before I could reach the hall, though, something caught me on the shoulder. A hand of iron strength. It grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back. I fell to the ground, air being knocked out of me.
The girl who had stared me down before had apparently seen me as a target. Yes I was doomed.
She reached down to my hand, foot still on my chest- which was gasping for a breath of air- and pulls the ice dagger from my weak hand. With the sharp blade, she slashed me across the stomach. Pain wavers through my side, threatening me to near death. I breath heavily, the warm blood oozing out of the gash.

The tall girl stands back up straight, towering over me with confidence. Her dark brown hair falling into her face of pure excitement.

Did she really find enjoyment in killing little children?

Apparently so.

I close my eyes ready for her next blow.

It comes crashing on my cheek, numb from the cold. But the hard heel of her boot makes even my numb cheek tinge with pain.

I can practically feel the bruise forming on my cheek. All I feel is hot pain as I wait for the strong girl to take another kick at me. Maybe a punch.

But this one never came.

When I opened my eyes again, I heard her taking out another tribute. Probably a small child like me.

My vision is blurred from the tears that formed, but I quickly wipe them away, holding my bloody wound.

I don't think that I will survive at this rate. The girl took my weapon and all my strength.
I limp to the open hallway and collapse.

***
Long times pass.

Silence.

My body starts to lose all consciousness...

The world turns white.

I spread my arms welcoming whatever was to come in the future...

~~~~~~~~~~
District 4 - Maaike Stolburg

When Maaike was born, the neighbors were abuzz with news of the recent delivery. Rumor had it that the baby had been born with a caul – a skin netting covering the infant's entire face like a glove. The more superstitious of them said that Maaike was cursed, and when her mother Annabel perished from severe blood loss, it seemed to only confirm their theory. Everyone kept well away from the baby girl, with some even guessing that Maaike herself would not live long without a mother. It was true that Maaike would have died if her Aunt Margarita – or Marge, as everyone always called her – was not on the scene and cut the bloody membrane from Maaike's face. When the herbalist did so, the baby let out a wail, letting in first air, first light.

Every year on her birthday, Aunt Marge would tell her the same story. "Maaike, your eyes were the lightest shade of hazel, with tiny specks of yellow and green. You already had a soft tuff of hair on your little head, and combined with your gorgeous eyes, I could not see why others could not see your beauty." She would then smack her lips together loudly, as if chewing bubblegum. "Superstitious pigs," she would go on to mumble underneath her breath. "Idiots. Afraid of a mere child because of some so-called 'curse' – pah!"

Afterwards, they would always eat cake – a rare delicacy in the Stolburg household. On Maaike's most recent birthday, the flavor had been chocolate. However, even though her mouth had been stuffed with the sweetest food, there was always some bitterness that she tasted on her tongue. Bitterness that, despite her kind, gentle nature, others still feared her because they believed she still bore the "Mark of Death". Perhaps that was the reason why Maaike had tried so hard to keep up a compassionate, tender temperament – even helping Aunt Marge to deliver her remedies to sick District Four citizens. For once, she didn't want to be viewed with a mixture of contempt and terror – she didn't want others to shy away from her when she walked on the streets, or turn to their neighbor and whisper about the cursed little girl who killed her mother.

No.

Sometimes, Maaike had wanted to turn and yell, "That's not true!", but never gathered up the courage or nerve. She'd always pretended to ignore their words and go on with her happy little life, but inwardly, her blood boiled in anger. She was not cursed. She did not kill her mother. And most of all, Maaike Stolburg was not an omen of death to all that she touched.

Yet, as the small girl looked around her, seeing nothing but pure white ice that would no doubt be stained with the crimson blood of the dead, Maaike could not help but feel a small sliver of fear run down her spine. She stood, her small form shivering in the cold, and wondered when the Grim Reaper came to collect the dead's souls, if he would turn his hooded head to her and give her a nod of appreciation.

"I'm not," she whispered softly, her voice lost in the howling wind. "I'm not death's minion. I don't kill."

But her words sounded hollow, even to herself.

The gong rang out as she was still thinking, signaling the start of the Bloodbath. At once, almost instantly, tributes around her leapt off of their pedestals and onto the snow, before running towards the Cornucopia like a herd of wild horses. Maaike blinked, surprised at how fast time had advanced, and tried to jump off her own pedestal in a smooth flourish like the other tributes. However, instead of landing gracefully, Maaike's foot twisted underneath her body weight, and the twelve-year-old found herself sprawled facedown into the snow with a sharp cry of pain.

Immediately, numerous herbal remedies and cures flashed before her very eyes. For a twisted ankle, a wound that she no doubt had sustained, boiled strawberry leaves ground into a poultice would take the heat out of the injury and lighten the muscles. It was an instinctual thought, to be honest – Maaike had spent so many years by her Aunt's side, breathing in the deep, musky smell of herbs and flowers, that whenever someone was injured the name of a plant would come into her mind.

However, when she finally picked herself up and started stumbling towards the Cornucopia, her innocent eyes immediately flew to a still body lying not two feet from where she was currently standing. The girl from Five lay still and unmoving, expression still set in terror, pale lips parted slightly in one last silent scream. A pool of red seeped out from underneath Janet's abdomen where an odd weapon had embedded itself – it looked like some sort of arrow, but to Maaike's shock and disgust, it was shaped like a Christmas tree. The tip was even painted a neon yellow to represent the star.

How dare they. She furled her little hands into indignant fists. How dare the Gamemakers turn something as innocent as a holiday into something that brought death and killing. How dare they. She swallowed, trembling, and moved on to where the fighting was thickest – towards the Cornucopia. However, Maaike had not taken more than two steps when suddenly, a painfully ironic concept arose from the depths of her mind.

All around, she saw white. So much white. White symbolized purity. And despite herself, Maaike let out a choked sob of anger and terror combined. It was so ironic. The arena was pure, was that what they – the horrible Gamemakers – were saying? Pure arena, nice arena, pretty picturesque arena. And yet no one in the Capitol would blink an eye when the pure white ground was stained with the crimson blood of children that they sent to their deaths – the first victim being Janet.

The wind howled and shrieked and swirled around her and Maaike gently knelt by Janet's corpse, watching the pool of blood turn into a lake. Snowflakes stung her tear-filled eyes, for Maaike knew that this was an injury that she could not fix. Janet was dead already, and somehow, even though Maaike had never set her sights on the girl before, a heavy burden of guilt hung heavily on her shoulders. The screams and shouts of those around her faded into nothing but meaningless background noise as Maaike stared down into Janet Qiang's glassy brown eyes, and whispered, "I'm sorry."

It was more of a reassurance to herself that she had not lost all of her humanity than a true apology to the dead girl, but either way, the two words did not lift the burden on her shoulders. And as the cannons announced their grim message in thunderous procession, for the first time in her life, Maaike began to wonder.

She wondered if the stories were true – that she indeed did carry a curse of death.

~~~~~~~~~~
District 5 - Janet Qiang

I clenched my fists hard inside the pockets of my jacket as I continued to ascend, head bowed. It felt like hours ago since we left the hallway, and all I could think about was the scream that echoed through the hallway before the cannon sounded. Was it really Leviti, though? I couldn't be sure. If it was, well, suits her right for calling me weak. But then again, any girl could scream like that, right?

Stop it, Janet. I shook my head as the sounds of the bombs exploding echoed through my mind once more. How similar they both sounded, the explosion in my dream and the explosions in the hallway just then. How did the Gamemakers know? Would they continue to taunt me with more bombs? I hope not. They have been much too cruel, playing with my mind like that. My mom's voice floated back into my mind again.

"'Qiang' means 'strong and powerful.'"

"I know," I said out loud, loud enough for myself to hear. I glanced at my dragon bracelet again, staring at the intricate head of the dragon before trailing down towards the tail, turning my wrist just slightly. My parents wouldn't want me to give up. And I can't let anyone see the weak side of me that the Gamemakers almost uncovered. No, I refuse to reveal anymore of myself than I already am.

Soon, the glass receded, and next moment I was looking at what may be the prettiest or deadliest of Cornucopias in history of the Games. It seems to be made of pure ice, quite unlike the ice I saw in the maze earlier, still retaining its shape despite the fact that it was inside a mansion. Well, mansion seemed too grand of a word to call what we found ourselves in. It seemed more like a giant cabin, with a staircase up on my left and a long wide hall directly behind me. A blizzard howled in the beautiful mountainous landscape I saw outside the windows, the winds blowing so fiercely I could actually hear it whistle past all of us. I glanced at the bounty of things in the Cornucopia, and my eyebrows furrowed. Everything that laid in front of us were wrapped in colourful Christmas wrapping paper, with pretty ribbons and bows decorated over the packages.

Weapons, I thought. There's got to be some weapons in there. It came as a slight unfairness how some of the tributes already got weapons in their hands, like Maaike and Louis, while others have come here with nothing, I being one of them. At this stage, I am dying to get my hands on something. I can't afford running away with nothing.

I took a look at the other tributes currently present. There were 21 of us left, and by the look of it, three of us were missing. I couldn't exactly see who's missing from where I was standing, but eventually we'll all see once the gong sounds.

From above, a glowing red timer began to count down from 10. This tme, I had no idea where to go. What if I tried to get out of the cabin? Doubtful I can, though I'm not intending to. The Gamemakers must have confined us here for a reason. And they have hidden all of our goodies in gift wrappings and bows. I wonder how long it would take for me to open one.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the gong sounded. Quickly, I got off my plate and dove for the package right in front of me—a slim, long, rectangular package that felt quite heavy under my hands. I tore the silver wrapping paper open to see a pair of ice skate blades, shiny and smooth without a trace of rust.

"Take that, you nitwit!" I heard someone shout, swinging his fists as he charged past another younger tribute—probably the girl from 3, whose name I can't remember.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Ow! That was my hip!"

"Hands off my sister!"

I scanned the entire perimeter of the chamber we were in now, still standing in the same spot with the ice blades in my hands. I saw Brooklyn fly past one of the tributes from 11—Alicia, I think—I'm really bad with names for some reason. Anyway, I saw him fly past her with an axe in his hands, swinging it hard and fast like he was going to throw the hammer, and I saw the deadly look in his eyes as he let it loose, and it soared in my direction. Instantly, I raised one of my skate blades and ducked, and the axe glanced off of the blade, slicing about an inch of my hair in the process. I didn't see where it went, but after a while I turned around to see a boy with platinum blond hair fall forward with a final huff, dropping a huge package in his hands, the axe stuck in his back.

I sprinted towards the package that the boy dropped, trying not to think about my recently chopped hair. I heard the howling winds outside grow stronger as the boy from 7, the one who kept spewing out Shakespeare lines for no apparent reason, slashed his own hatchet at the walls of the cabin. But no matter how hard he tried, the walls kept repairing themselves, gathering the small smithereens together until they retained their old rightful place.

So I was right. There was no way the Gamemakers would let us loose in the storm outside.

"Leave it, Logan!" I heard Louis call out. "There's no point!"

"You can't tell me what to do!" Logan screamed, swinging his hatchet at Louis, who managed to duck in the nick of time as he stabbed him in the gut with his pitchfork.

Logan instantly stumbled back onto the ground, clutching onto his gut. "Oh! I am slain!"

At this point, I had just managed to unwrap the big package the blond boy dropped—three collapsible spears, each of them tipped with pinecones honed to a sharp point, tied in a bundle with blue ribbon.

"Janet! Catch!"

A black backpack suddenly flew in my direction, and I caught it out of reflex, searching for the person who threw it but to no avail.

"Thanks!" I called out randomly, waving as I stuck the blades inside the backpack and slung it on my back, wielding now one of the three spears, the other two collapsed and also stored in my bag. As I began to twirl the spear in my hands, I glanced around further at the action unfolding ahead.

"I'm getting at you, Theodore!" the tall girl with badly cut hair from district 9 cried triumphantly, glowering at her district partner who was cowering behind the chubby boy from 6. Seriously, what were everyone's names? Jasper, was it, from 6? The only name that ever stood out to me was Cymric, but that's just because he's from my district. Speaking of which, I wonder how he's doing.

Theodore, in the meanwhile, shivered violently under her powerful glare. "N-no, Evelyn. Not me! Please, not me!"

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Jasper shouted.

"Why don't you shut up, fatty?" the girl taunted back, making Jasper fall silent.

That's it. I can't stand having bullies standing in anyone's way. It's probably against the law, but no one should ever feel belittled. It's just not the way to go.

"Leave them alone!" I shouted. I could imagine everyone watching this in confusion as I charged at them, but before anyone could react, Leviti stepped in, pushing them out of the way.

"Why don't you stay out of this, weakling?" Leviti shouted, swinging her nutcracker sword at me, and I parried back with my spear. "You dare humiliate me, the granddaughter of a previous victor of the Hunger Games?"

"I don't care what you are!" I bellowed, kicking her in the shin. "All I know is that you never shut up!"

"ARGH!"

Leviti growled as she raised her sword again, but before I could make a move, her face paled and she slumped to the floor, losing hold of her sword, an arrow with dove feathers on the tail stuck in her gut. The girl from 9 gave a shriek and ran away, and I turned around in alarm to see Faye, holding a crossbow, crossing over to us. Instantly, my breath hitched. What was he going to do?

"You two, get out of here," he instructed the other two boys, and they nodded as they fled, a strand of tinsel trailing behind Jasper. Then Faye turned to me. "You okay, Janet?"

"Fine," I assured him with a nod. "Thanks for...saving my neck back there."

"She didn't deserve it, but that's what she gets for teasing you," Faye shrugged, and I smiled in gratitude.

"And you don't think I'm weak?" I asked.

"No. You're such a strong person, even I stand in awe at you. You can do this." Faye smiled at me genuinely and patted me on the back before he left my side. I trusted myself now to trust Faye. He seemed pretty honest about what he's saying.

"Watch where you're—oomph!"

A flash of red hair suddenly caught my eye, and I quickly stabbed forward with my spear, impaling the young boy from 10 who was running with a string of Christmas lights in his hand--Chase. Oh great. I fought his district partner earlier and now I killed him. Just my luck. As I pulled the spear out of his body, I heard a chuckle from behind, and a blade whistled through the air on my right. Quickly, I ducked in the nick of time, turning to the direction the knife came from to see a girl with black hair and striking emerald eyes twirl a candy-cane striped knife in her hand by the hilt, walking towards me.

Of course. It was the girl from District 2, Melody Hart—almost an exact copy of one of the previous tributes from 2 I've heard about, Clove. I gulped shakily as I saw two other girls flock behind her—Skye, from 7, and Melanie from 6. This is no typical pack I've seen before. And with all of them wielding those knives...I tried not to think about being impaled by one of these.

"You really want to fight?" I asked, pointing the spear out in front of me, which was still coated in Chase's blood.

Skye scoffed, shaking her head. "Oh no, we're not going to kill you. We want to enlist you in our alliance. You should join us, Janet. We'd have such fun."

"Watch out!" I heard Faye cry from afar.

But Melody was quick to catch him as she threw her knife at him, and he gasped as it hit him in the chest, falling backwards onto his back. The fear within me bubbled in my throat, but Skye laughed airily, cutting off the scream that was building inside of me.

"Oh, don't worry about him," Skye said. "We think you'd be such a great asset to us, Janet. Such a strong tribute, aren't you? It would be a great shame if you die. A strong tribute, gone down to waste...what a thought. But seriously, we would love to have you with us. The four of us, we'd all be a great team. Unless you don't want to. Then we can just let you go."

It was too late by now to take the skate blades out, so I tried to steady my breathing as the group slowly advanced, and I backed up into a wall, unsure of where to move next. It was almost as if the wolves have come back to attack, and I have no idea what to do. Suddenly, I caught sight of a small door behind the Cornucopia. If only I could just get in there and evade the rest of them...

"Still weighing your options, Janet?" Melanie questioned, holding her knife higher. "Or will you let Leviti's words sink in for once?"

It was by this point in time when I realized how deserted the chamber was. No one was left except for the four of us, and a couple dead bodies here and there. I have no idea where everyone else went, but I have to escape. And that door is probably the safest option.

"Still underestimating me," I finally muttered, twirling my spear around and swinging it hard in front of the three girls, who shrieked and backed away as I made a beeline for the small door behind the Cornucopia. The moment I wrenched it open, I quickly thrust my backpack and spear through the small entrance, ignoring the cold blast of wind in my face. Then I got down on all fours, and crawled through the doorway.

Suddenly, the ground beneath my hands dipped downwards, and I felt my hands slip out from under me. I let out a scream as I went sliding through the icy chute on my stomach like a penguin. After a while, I slid into an ice cavern looking just like the one I went through in the maze, but slightly darker. Panting, I rolled onto my back and sat up, pulling my backpack close to me and shuffling towards the wall of the cavern. My stomach wasn't quite up to the sliding ride just now, and I clutched onto it, trying to calm down.

Five cannon blasts soon rang through the empty ice cavern. Five cannons, five deaths. Five people died at the Cornucopia, and I have seen every single one. It was already bad enough for me to have seen the blood of so many tributes. But then again, that means one step closer to home.

I was so lost in thought I almost didn't see the trio approach me, Skye clutching onto her wrist as if it was broken. Melody and Melanie, in the meanwhile, raised their knives as they all got onto their feet.

"So? You really thinking about flying solo, Janet? Or will you join us?" Melody asked.

Looking at this group, I had to make my decision, and fast. At first glance they seemed menacing, and I remember watching them in training. Each of them had gone through quite a bit in their lives before they got here. And they all seem pretty skilled with their weapons. Something within me told me to trust them, though. They did seem pretty honest when they said they wanted me, and I hope it's not just because of my skills with a spear.

So I took a deep breath and nodded. "Sure. I'll join you."

At the sound of that, the trio smiled wanly as they helped me onto my feet, and we trekked through the cavern together without another word.

I hope I didn't make a bad decision, joining them.

~~~~~~~~~~
District 6 - Melanie Canyon

Janet peered at me from the glass and waved. My lips slightly curled upwards and I did the same. When the pad stopped moving the glass door in front of me opened revealing the icy cornucopia.

"Seems more like an igloo to me," I murmured before stepping out. We were in a giant room with presents scattered throughout the cornucopia made of ice in front of me. To my right was Janet Qiang from District 5 and to my left was Skye McGill from District 7. And to her left were the Careers. I couldn't help but shudder at the memory of them from the last few years.

"WATCH OUT!" A voice yelled from my right. On instinct, I arched my back and dodged a spear by an inch or so. I turned my head to find Logan Krassix from District 8 sneering at me. Getting myself a present was temporarily forgotten. My eyes darkened and without thinking, I lunged at him. No one would be getting out of their own arrogance alive if they mess with me anymore. I have changed; and it's about time they knew that.

Within moments, I stood in front of Logan who was kneeling down on the ground, choking and sputtering on his own blood. There was a giant gash in his throat where his larynx should be. From there red, sticky, warm blood poured out.

"I'll-ge-get-y-you-f-f-f-or-THIS," Logan attempted to say before falling onto the snow, lifeless. His eyes still wide open, filled with hatred even as his dead body became cold in the snow.

"Ugh, I never knew dead bodies were so disgusting," I grimaced at the sight. Before I took take even a quick breath an arrow, with the red and white pattern of a candy cane, missed me by maybe a centimeter. They smell like them too. The sweet smell of peppermint entered my nose.

I turned around as a male tribute collided into me, and we crashed into the side of the Cornucopia. I could faintly taste the blood on my lip, coating my tongue, as I realized who the tribute was--Brooklyn Fawkes, District 2. Shoot, a Career. I have to get rid of him before his buddies come and finish me off.

The force of the collision was so hard that my vision began to blur. I wanted to give in, to give in to the darkness that was consuming me.

No Melanie. I thought you were better than that. Stop giving in and instead show that bitch who you TRULY are, my inner voice yelled. From inside of me, anger bubbled up inside and I mustered up all the power I could as I punched, my bloody fist sinking into his face. Brooklyn held his cheek in his hands and growled. I simply smirked.

"You..." His blonde hair fell across his face.

"What, cat got your tongue?" I mocked, not giving him another second before kicking him in the gut. The tribute crumpled onto the ground groaning. I took another deep breath and delivered the final blow that ended his life.

Not sparing another second to see where his little friends were, I snached up a pink and white beautifully wrapped present and a giant sock full of "goodies" before dashing into a little doorway in the back corner of the cornucopia that I had spotted earlier. From my right I saw Skye district 7, plunge her knife into a female's heart. I knew it was Fay Everett from District 3. Let's go Skye! I cheered in my head.

"Woah..." The room I had entered had a giant table with platters of food all over it. But the one that had stood out was the giant steak. Without knowing I had already started reaching towards it when the creaking of noise echoed throughout the room. I slowly turned around to find a tall, muscular girl staring intensely at me with bright green eyes.

She growled and she lunged for me, fist headed towards my face. Not wanting to be at the lower hand, I ducked to the side and hit her with a platter of fruit. Watermelon splattered all over her face. For good measure I let my fist strike her face multiple times.

"You.." The tribute took santa cookies and threw them at me like ninja stars. Using the platter as a shield, I deflected all the cookies and bonked her on the head with it so hard there was a dent with the shape of a head on it. But it did the deed. The girl's eyes closed but I could barely make out her breathing by then.

"Wait, that's Evelyn Turner from District 9," I mused as I recognized her features. I brought the plate down and slashed her forehead open wide before I could tell myself not to. Blood gushed out from the girl's head and I turned away just as I saw a boy running with my stuff towards the other end of the room. Shocked, I took the silverware covered in mini jingle bells and threw them at the boy. A fork hit his calf, knocking the boy off balance as he tripped over his own feet and fell with my supplies dropping from his hands.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

I took my Christmas fork and stabbed it into his temple, trying not to make another mess like I did with the other tributes. The sight of blood made me dizzy.

"Wow. Never thought I'd find you here."

I whipped around and held my fork steady looking for the source of the voice.

"Skye?" Disbelief crossed my eyes.

"Hey Melanie. I thought you were some other tribute at first."

"Same." We laughed for a second before her expression turned serious.

"Is that Theodore Laurent from District 9?" She pointed at the body.

"Yea, I think so."

"Nice. But hurry, we don't have much time before the Careers come barging out of the kitchen. I set some traps there to keep them busy for a while. And don't grab the food. A lot of them have poison." Skye ran towards some doors onto our left. "Let's go this way, make sure no one follows you."

The Hunger Games grows more intense by the minute.

~~~~~~~~~~
District 7 - Skye McGill

<Take away the menacing tributes and this could be the most wondrous thing I'll ever see.>

By this point I was so used to ice, snow, and negative degree temperatures, I actually anticipated it while rising on my launchpad from the Hallway of Mages. But I did not envision landing in a house- one decorated as if derived from a book; bright lights flashing, boxes ranging various sizes wrapped with cheerful paper and springy boys, even sparkling red-and-green streamers hung from the ceiling.

"Christmas," I whispered.

Wasn't that what it was called? The holiday of joyfulness, when humanity existed in a place called America? Christmas -in books- was the time of the year when people shared the joy and happiness of the season, when presents and kind words were exchanged, and sleighbells and laughter and even wishes of good cheer rang through the first snowfall.

This room was easily large as the entire Justice Building in Seven. Outside windows spattered with snow was a rampaging blizzard; picturesque trees tainted a thick layer of moving white.

<So, breaking out isn't an option.>

<They want us here- for the bloodbath.>

That was apparent; the Cornucopia sitting in the center of this room, was shaped and carved with as much precision as previous years--except of pure ice, gleaming in multiple colors. I would assume the wrapped boxes were the various supplies; and per usual, the most worthy was piled up in colorful stacks at the mouth, the least scattered at my feet. Some of the warbled reflections of the tributes was visible from the Cornucopia- some were worried, some fearful, and some confident.

We were in the typical ring circling the Cornucopia. Melody, on my left, raised her eyebrow in question, asking me if we were to work together- we had agreed to a truce. I shook my head, mouthing, Not now. Maaike was the little, doll-like child from Four, to my right.

Examining tributes in my range of sight, I almost stamped my foot. A couple -say, Maaike and the future father Louis, from Twelve- held weapons in their hands. I was itching to grip a good throwing knife. <I doubt the ones with weapons even know how to use them.> Something also seemed off about the number of tributes- perhaps three less, or so.

Then, the minute they had given us, shown in a red-and-black hologram above the Cornucopia, struck zero. I leaped off my pedestal, grabbing a small figurine of a jolly, wide man in red and white from the ground- possibly the fairytale person called Santa? The figurine turned out to be the handle of a sheathed knife. Eagerly, I took the weapon out of the snowflake-covered sheath, only to find that the blade was extremely dull; and so placed as least worthy.

A little sharpening on ice -I was sure there was more of it- would do the trick.

I glanced around dubiously; no one was coming for me, though shouts echoed all around, metal flashing as people were engaged in combat.

"Give me that! I got it first!"

"Oomph! Ow!"

"Don't let her get away!"

A way to my left, I spotted Melanie -the female from Six, one of three, including Melody, whom I had agreed to call a truce with- strike someone, perhaps the small boy of District Nine. It happened so fast- I almost missed my opportunity.

The boy fell, writhing in pain, and Melanie delivered another blow, this time to the stomach- for good measure, I'd suppose. As she bent down in order to grab the backpack wedged under his arm, I took off on the outside of the pedestals, all the while keeping a careful watch of my surroundings.

<Of course, if you all would be so kind as to not notice me...I need that backpack.>

Just behind Melanie, a blur of a person was soon to tackle her. "Melanie!" I shouted. She whirled around, leaving the snow-white backpack imprinted with candy canes and golden bells hanging from wreaths still tucked underneath the arm of the boy from Nine.

Now or never. The small boy -Theodore?- had done what I would have; darting in the bloodbath, then right back out, before others. Only, without being intercepted by another tribute.

After wrestling the backpack on, which seemed pretty full the way things were shaking around inside, I glanced at the fight between Melanie and Logan--the boy twin from 8, who had lost his sister. "You'll never beat me, coward." Melanie growled at him.

Logan brandished a knife in a hand as he glowered over Melanie, who stood empty-handed. "We'll see about that." He started to quickly gain the advantage, despite Melanie's dominance in hand-to-hand combat. I knew my dull knife couldn't do much; though it would do more than Melanie could, at this time.

Glancing at the blade again, I cringed at the poor condition. The dullness was prominent. There was a slight bend of the metal in the center. The thin lining of rust too indicated the knife had been abandoned for a while.

Unfortunately, I was so absorbed into judging the knife that I didn't see Logan knock down Melanie and charge towards me, his knife slashing the air, in search for my flesh. "Good luck with that knife, <Mini> Mouse." Logan said, smirking.

It was on.

"Don't you dare call me that."

"Who says not?"

"I do."

All the while, it was all I could do, darting from and sidestepping the stabs of the knife, hard blows with his fist. Logan had the clear advantage; I was smaller, I was weaker, and my knife was useless. I tried a few punches, hands trembling, but I might as well have been punching metal. He, on the other hand, had gotten many strikes in, whether it be my poor arms or stomach; eventually kicking my legs, toppling me. My heart raced in fear.

Could he kill me? <Would> he kill me?

The answer was yes.

I lay underneath him, and saw that Melanie had disappeared, and that I had only one option left- the most unladylike and one I thought I'd never use. "Get off of me," I grunted, again attempting to push him off with no avail.

"Over my dead body, Mini Mouse."

"If it takes that..." I muttered under my breath, ignoring the insult.   I hesitated, but the malicious look on Logan's face indicated my life was on a short fuse if I didn't make a move. A sudden, blood-curdling scream from afar jolted my movement as well.

I struck my leg upwards; he yelped, but still remained standing- which I gave him credit for. Logan threw his knife at me, and upon reflex, I scarcely evaded it, turning onto my left arm and ducking my head. Uncurling, I threw <my> knife, the dull blade causing me to throw harder than I normally would. I winced as pain danced along the length of my right arm- it threw my aim off a little. "You asked for it, Logan."

The Santa-handled knife cut through only the side of Logan's neck -due to the sudden weakness in my throwing arm- but it was enough to cause him to clutch it, trying to cease the blood flow. Meanwhile, I was struggling with blood loss as well; his knife hadn't gone amiss, though the damage wasn't near what mine did to him.

Whether or not he meant to, Logan had hit my right throwing arm, leaving a line of red from just above my wrist up until just below my shoulder. It didn't look too deep, but every move made me wince. I guess my throwing capability would be off for a while, until the wound healed.

<Well, crap.>

Melanie, who had mystically appeared with a small box and a few cuts here and there, only watched Logan, perhaps not feeling the courage to end another life today. I personally wished, though, that she would, so that I would not feel the full guilt. It was obvious that if I let Logan survive- and he very well could, with proper bandaging -he would be on my trail. A cut to the neck would not go unnoticed.

"Skye, hurry up!" Melanie urged.

The world seemed to spin as I realized my decision, even though it was more than a reluctant one,was for my own survival. I slowly picked up the knife Logan had thrown at me -shiny and sharp, as if it came from the center pile- which, a moment ago, had fallen from my hand.
Logan stared at me, eyes wide, from the ground. He knew what I was going to do. What I had to do. "No," he pleaded, choking on blood, "I have to win...win for Lynia."

"Over your dead body it is," I stated, but my eyes couldn't meet his as I plunged the knife, Logan's knife, into his flesh. I looked away, squeezing my eyes shut. When I opened them, the happy-looking blade, with a sparkling smiling snowman for a grip, was embedded in his neck.
I felt my breath catch halfway through my throat as I stared down at his body.

I was officially a murderer.

I stood, dumbfounded, along with Melanie, looking at Logan, before looking at each other. The wailing wind outside joined and blended into the chorus of screams and shouts in this room, this bloodbath, red dancing with the white outside.

"Thank you," Melanie murmured. "You saved my life."

My response, unfortunately, was triggered by the raging emotions that apparently came after killing someone. "Don't mention it," I muttered. "<Don't,>" I repeated edgily, just before Melanie could say anything

With that, I yanked the bloody knife from Logan's neck. Weapons in bodies would be picked up by hovercraft -how was that going to fit?-, and that would be a waste. Some droplets of blood splattered onto my pants. Hopefully, my recoiling wasn't visible. I picked up my dull, Santa Clause knife, regretting my words to Melanie. <Good job, Skye. Way to make new friends, hey?>
I looked up, an apology on my lips, but Melanie had once again blended into the bloody bath of tributes. Suddenly, I felt a tug on my back and the backpack slipped off one shoulder. I whipped around, teeth clenched, yet my expression, I could feel, softened as I saw who it was; the small, frail-looking girl from Three with a smart gleam in her eyes.

Perhaps she thought I was weak. After all, I didn't look too threatening; just a bit taller than she. Fay, I think was her name, pleaded me with large eyes.

"Back off, Fay," I barked.

Maybe I could ask to ally with her?

"I-" She started; but before she could continue, the point of something, a spear, emerged from her stomach, coated with blood.

Fay paled with a little shriek and fell to the floor, and I cupped my mouth in shock, looking for the one who had killed her; Janet Qiang, the female tribute from Five, whom I had agreed a truce too, came over with regret on her face.

"Why'd you kill her?" I asked quietly. There was no need to. She was no threat.

Passing by was Cymric, from Janet's district, limping towards a door behind the Cornucopia and muttering, "What is loneliness to someone alone?" Seemingly answering himself, he said, "I." I frowned at him, a little confused.

Janet's eyes widened as she pointed behind me, withdrawing her spear from the limp body. Behind, a boy was approaching rapidly; my brain was too befuddled now to think of names, but he had the tanned look of someone from District Four.

I'd thought he was a kind person, but rather sad; but I suppose the Hunger Games could change anyone and everyone. He charged us with a knife, and a bloody left shoulder. I glanced at Janet; but who was to say, even with a truce, that promises could be kept?

In the background I could hear two voices prevail, distracting me from the problem at hand.
"Melody! Get behind me!" Melanie shouted.

"I can protect myself!" Melody responded defensively.

Then, at the same moment, Janet's spear and Logan's knife -the one I now had in possession- struck the boy from Four. I didn't even recall throwing, but my left hand flew to my right arm right after, the pain renewed. I cringed at the sight of our victim; the boy didn't even attack. Janet picked the two weapons out, whilst I once again stood there in shock.

"Here." She handed me Logan's knife; hesitantly, I grasped onto the hilt of it, in acceptance She took the boy's knife, and I shook my head, not wanting it. Looking around, Janet spotted Melody in combat with another tribute, and so sent the knife flying towards the back of the tribute in question. Melanie was also busying herself, this time with a small knife.

"Watch out!" Janet cried to both of our potential allies. Melody arched her eyebrows in confusion until seeing the flying knife. The tribute she was fighting turned around.

I didn't stick around to see what would become of him or her. Instead, I darted to a majestic staircase, which curved around so that the top wasn't visible. It was to the mere right of us; the staircase was left of the Cornucopia's mouth.

As I scaled a few steps, a glass-shattering scream suddenly pierced the air; a bit too melodramatic for my taste, even for the bloodbath. Speaking of which- it felt like as if hours went by, yet it truly was only ten minutes past from the start, most likely. I looked over the gleaming golden railing, and bit my lip at the gruesome scene which the scream had come from.
I couldn't make out either of the two tributes in the centre- the tribute standing with a tomahawk in hand, or the bloody one lying on the ground. But even from such a distance, five steps up the stairs, I could see a tribute, on the ground, with blood spilling out of their cracked head, and the rest I looked away from.

The victim I thought would be Evelyn Turner, from District Nine. How she managed to make it to the middle of the bloodbath, I had no clue. Everyone had paused their fighting for a mere moment, and I'm sure many more deaths occurred afterwards, adding to the bodies on the floor; but I flew up the steps that seemed to go on forever, winding on and on.
I felt the wind nip at my weak arm as I ran; I felt the impact of the many times I tripped and fell; I felt the points of the knives pierce my skin as I picked them up as they dropped, realizing that the only thing I was truly running away from was the last thoughts haunting my mind.

<Am I a murderer now?>

<Did I kill my father?>

~~~~~~~~~~
District 8 - Lynia Krassix

Lynia was terrified.

It was hard for her to admit, but it was true. The room they had risen into was beautiful. From what she could see outside the ceiling-high windows, they were in the mountains. A fireplace flickered behind them, larger than Lynia's entire height. The Cornucopia was in the center of the room, made from ice, almost like an igloo. Behind it was a long, dark hallway. To the right was a grand staircase, decorated with garland. Lights hung around a door behind the Cornucopia, making it appear open and inviting. A hallway rested across from it, dark and blank, leading to an unknown destination.

She tried to calm her breathing, to calm the racing of her heart. Even as her brother explained where they would be running, she barely heard him. People are going to die here, she thought. She wasn't entirely sure she was prepared for something like that.

Whether she was prepared or not, the bloodbath was happening.

Logan grabbed her hand and before she knew it, they were running toward a Christmas tree. Immediately, the sight gave her comfort; it was something that always brought joy and peace.

Yet it was now something where kids would die. No, worse than that, where the kids would kill and slaughter each other. A sudden burst of anger surged inside her veins toward the Gamemakers, and especially the President, at forcing them to do this.

Especially at them for tainting something as joyful as Christmas. Whoever the winner was, Lynia knew that they could never look at Christmas the same way again. They would never feel joy when the time came around, or when the celebrations were held. No, all it would do is remind them of the most painful time in their life... Remind them of their most horrible memories.

Before she realized what was happening, Logan was handing boxes of supplies to her. Boxes, that she realized with a bitter twinge in her heart, were decorated like presents. She blinked, forcing herself not to cry in hatred and anger.

"You hold the supplies, I'll fight off anyone who comes," Logan told her. She nodded and followed behind him, but nearly ran into him when he stopped. He pushed her out of the way, and dodged to the left, as the male from district two charged at him with a tomahawk. Logan jumped out of the way of another attack, and met her eyes. "Go! Run, Lynia!"

She shook her head, and this time, the tears really did spill over. "No, Logan I won't leave you!"

He shook his head, jumping away from another attack. "You have to! I'll catch up; I promise."

But Lynia knew it was a lie, one that was meant to wrap her in a wall of protection and keep her safe. One that she knew he would try his best to keep, but one that he had no control over. He couldn't fight a Career. He couldn't.

But she had to listen to him and honor his wishes. With a final gaze at her brother as he desperately tried to counter and dodge the male's attacks, she turned and ran away. Her stomach twisted and it took every ounce of her self-control not to break down and sob right there.

Inhaling deeply, she dashed toward the hallway across the Cornucopia. Logan was watching her, so she sighed in relief; at least he knew which direction she choose.

"Not so fast, district eight girl." Lynia came to an abrupt halt, as the district five male loomed above her. "Give me those!"

He began to stab her with his dagger, and she tried using the presents as a shield against him. Before either of them could get a chance to move, the district three female darted to his side, and twisted his wrist backward. It stabbed the dagger into his own throat, and she slid it across. Crimson blood spurted from the wound, staining Lynia's face. She screamed, as the district four male's body jerked and twitched. He gagged and gurgled, making horrid sounds that would haunt Lynia for the rest of her life.

The district three female grinned and then glared at Lynia, stalking toward her with that same dagger.

Lynia's eyes widened in horror and she backed away, dropping the presents in horror. She was in shock from seeing someone die in front of her... For the first time in her life, death had become a real, tangible thing.

A spear flew toward the district three female, but she dodged it, and glared in the direction it came from. The district twelve male had grabbed a spear from a pile of weapons near the Christmas tree, but closer to the Cornucopia. The district three female stalked toward him, obviously forgetting Lynia. Before she could, a wild cry made her turn around. The district eleven male jumped down off the balcony and tackled the district three female to the ground. As the two begin to fight and struggle, the district twelve male darted toward Lynia, snatching up her supplies. There were two more spears strapped to his back, but he grabbed her hand. "Come on! We should go before they remember that we're here."
Lynia nodded and followed behind him as he led her toward the staircase.

"No! I have to go into the hallway. My brother, he's... he's supposed to meet me."

He looked at her for a moment, before nodding as they headed toward the hallway. It was dark and long... seeming as if it stretched on forever ahead of them. Now that they were out of sight from everyone, Lynia sat against the wall, resting. "I'm Lynia."

"Louis." He stuck out a hand, and she shook it.

"Thank you for saving me." Lynia smiled at him as he handed her one of the boxes. She began tearing at its wrapping paper, seeing what was inside.

"I couldn't just let a pretty girl like you die." He had a mop of brown hair that was messy, but there was something adorable about him that Lynia liked. Despite their situation, he still smiled at her sincerely, and it made her stomach flutter in an odd sort of way.

"Water, beef jerky, rope, and some sort of medicine, and a small pack," Lynia said. As she spoke, she pulled each item out of the box.

"I've got a small pack, two bottles of water, and some cheese and crackers."

Lynia bit her lip. "If we ration, we can make the cheese, crackers and jerky last for a while. I'll take one bottle of water, you take the other and we share the third one." Louis nodded and they split the supplies evenly between the two of them. Louis offered for Lynia to put the extra water bottle in her bag, so she gave him the rope. When they had their bags settled on their backs, Louis politely helped her to her feet and they started down the hallway.

An ear-curdling scream made Lynia jump. Louis wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. "It's okay. We're in here, and for now, we're safe. Don't... try not to listen to it, okay?"

His words blurred, until they became Logan's voice.

"We're in here now, Lynia. The storm is outside, so it can't hurt you," Logan said. He and Lynia were both eight years old, and outside it was storming. Lighting flashed, lighting up the room as if it were day, not just after midnight. Shortly after, thunder roared, like a lion that desperately wanted to eat her.

Lynia jumped, but Logan kept his arms around her. Their other siblings all slept peacefully around them, undisturbed from the maelstrom outside. "I'm scared," Lynia whispered. She had no idea how her other siblings could sleep so peacefully, when the storm was raging outside, like it wanted in to eat them or something.

Logan brushed her hair with his fingers, a movement that often relaxed her. The two siblings were squeezed together on the cot that Lynia slept on, huddled underneath a thin blanket. The warmth around her came from Logan's body heat. "When you're scared, remember that someone's out there, watching over you, taking care of you. I'm here, sis, and I'm never going to leave you. So it's all going to be okay now. You'll see. As long as I'm here, the thunder can't hurt you, and the storms can't touch you. Nothing can."

The words comforted her, warming her heart. At last, she closed her eyes, finally able to relax enough to try to sleep. Logan massaged her temple, lulling her deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. Despite that, something wet splashed onto her forehead. Distantly, she had realized it was tears... Tears from her brother.

Why was he crying?

At the time, she had been too tired to try to figure it out, too young to understand... Or perhaps she had been too protected to fully grasp why.

What had he kept from her that night? What had he protected her from? Why had he sounded so calm when he comforted her, so sure... and yet, tears streamed from his eyes, revealing the boy for the part of himself that he hid from his siblings:

Broken.

Now, as she gazed out from the hallway into the cabin beyond, she finally understood. Logan had protected her from so much. There was no telling what sort of horrors he had kept her from, how he had protected her innocence of the world, while willingly allowing his own to be destroyed in the process.

Through the lighting of the main floor of the cabin, Lynia could clearly see what had happened. The sort of thing that Logan had spent his entire life protecting her from, was now open, available for her to see with her own eyes.

The district eleven male was dead. His skull had been bashed in. It was caved in, and blood flowed out of the wound, vermilion in color. It stained the floor underneath him, snaking toward the red and green carpet that rested underneath the Christmas tree.

Another body, one that was unrecognizable was just underneath the tree, arms and legs twisted at odd angles. Blood that poured from the body's chest, which was split wide-open, exposing the body's ribs, reaching the bottom of the Christmas tree. Several presents covered in white and blue snowflake wrapping paper were now bright crimson. Snowmen were covered in blood, and several Santa's were completely red, matching the rest of his outfit, along with all his reindeer.

Lynia swallowed back bile, but it twisted her stomach. She lurched out of Louis' arms and threw up what little contents were in her stomach onto the floor. Louis stayed with her, holding her hair back while she threw up. Her body shook violently, as the harsh reality of her situation slammed into her with all the force of a freight train. "I can't... I can't do this!" Lynia sobbed, and Louis held her into his chest. In that moment, her entire childhood was gone, and she was no longer a girl. She was a woman, one who had stared into the face of what death really was, and what spilled blood really meant.

More than anything she just wanted Logan. She wanted him to come to her, wrap her in his arms and build the wall of protection back over her. She wanted him to protect her from the world as he always had, to keep her from what was happening and tell her that everything would be okay.

When deep inside, Lynia knew that it wouldn't.

~~~~~~~~~~
District 11 - Alicia Minami - RECIEVED LATE

I hop off the launch pad and I immediately feel the warmth that the cabin brings.

The warmth, like a hug, makes me feel secure and safe from the raging blizzard outside. But once I realize where I am, I decide to look around, find some weapons maybe.

The cabin is huge, mansion sized. And everything is prepped for Christmas. The fireplace is on, giving the warmth I felt earlier. Above the fireplace are socks, one of them, filled with coal.

<I guess someone's been naughty.>

I continue to look around. The Christmas tree, filled with ornaments and lights. And right below it, are presents. I bend down and lightly shake the presents. Eagerly, I open each present and find nothing in every single one.

Confused, I look around but I still end up with a stack of empty presents.

<I need to use something! But what?>

The small gears in my mind begin to turn as I walk around the brightly-lit tree.

All of a sudden, I have a plan. It might be really stupid but it should work.

I look around, "Now, where's the tape?"

*********

"And there!" I mutter to myself, examining my homemade weapon, "It's not much but it'll have to do."

I grab the two small "knives", made from cardboard, glass and other useful things, and shove them in the stocking filled with coal. I then wrap that around my waist with some Christmas lights.

I nod in approval, "Not bad Alicia. Not bad."

I decide not to stay here any longer, it's the Hunger Games after all, and walk outside. Once I do, I gasp at the sight.

The Cornucopia is made of pure ice. I take one step forward and I slip and fall down. I groan as I struggle to get up. Then, my ears suddenly hear laughter, from a little kid. I look up to see a small brunette, who looks no more than maybe five. Her big brown eyes are watching me.

I reach out to her but my hand passes right through her hand.

"Is this a hologram?" I think out loud.

"Alicia!" Someone calls and both me and the girl look up.

My mother comes into view.

"Alicia Minami!" She scolds the girl, "What have I told you about running off?"

<Am I watching my own flashback?>

~~"That running off is bad and we shouldn't do it." I tell my mom, looking down at my feet.

My mom sighs, "Alicia. You just scared my that's all. Now, come on. You father's waiting for you at the park."

"Really? Oh boy!" I immediately start pulling her along, "Come on! Come on!"

She smiles at my actions and lets me guide her.

The park is far from nice. Just a lonely swing set beside a not-so-small pond but it's just what my five year old mind needed.

My father, who's sitting on one of the swings, looks up to see his little daughter practically dragging his wife to him.

"Hello Princess! Where have you been?" He says, picking me up and putting me on his lap.

"I ran away. I didn't mean it though Daddy! I thought I saw something."

He chuckles, "Sometimes I wonder what's going on in that little head of yours."

"So, what are we doing today?" I ask, wanting to change the topic.

"Well, your mother and I thought, since it's cold out and the pond it frozen solid, we could got skating."

I tilt my head in confusion, "Skating? I've never done that before Daddy."

He smiles and leads me towards the pond, "It's really fun Alicia, you'll love it."

"O-Okay." I say, my voice growing smaller.

He slowly leads me towards the pond and I tighten my grip on his hand.

"P-Please don't let go D-Daddy."

He gently squeezes my hands, "I won't Princess. I promise."

Once I got use to the ice beneath me, my fear melted away. I started to laugh and yell, "I'm skating!". My mother would sit on one of the swings and watch us, giving me a thumbs up whenever I looked at her.~~

I watched as young me and my father slowly faded into the distance.

I gently wipe the tears from my eyes.

<Why would they show me a flashback? To make me soft or something?>

It's weird how ones thinking changes once you're in the Hunger Games. All of us want to win for our families and we'll do anything to do it.

Which is what I'm afraid of.

I look around to see all the remaining tributes, waiting for our task. I'm on edge just thinking about it. But, instead of an announcement, the cornucopia begins to drop in temperature. I shiver as the announcer's voice rings through the cornucopia.

"Hello dear tributes. Welcome to the bloodbath. This is really simple. All you have to do is kill tributes. May the odds be ever in your favor."

Once the announcement sinks into our brains, everyone knows what to do. It's either kill or be killed.

I grab my homemade knives and ready myself for what's to come.

Within a heartbeat, everyone starts attacking each other. I slowly back away, not wanting to go right into the bloodbath.

Suddenly, I bump into someone. Fear takes over my whole body. I turn around to see a boy who's about the same height as me, his blond hair glows despite that there's no sun. He steps closer to me but I step back, feeling small in his presence.

"You trying to leave Alicia? You scared?" He taunts.

"No. Just trying a new tactic."

With those words, I run off. I turn to see him following me. I guess I'm easy prey. I look ahead to see other tributes battling to the death. An idea starts to form in my brain. I just hope I don't get killed in the process.

I quickly look to see if the boy is still following me and sure enough, he is.

I then go right into the middle of the bloodbath and try to avoid not being killed.

I look around to see many people fighting for their lives and many tributes falling to their death. Cannons keep going off and I cringe at the sound of it.

As I'm running an arrow barely hits me, gently skimming my leg. As I turn my attention to my leg, I bump right into my opponent.

I gasp as he grabs an arrow from what looks like a stocking shaped quiver. Then, he starts to shoot at me and I start to carefully dodge the arrows.

Once I'm out of his sight (for now), I decide to pull out my first mode of defense. I look around for him and see him kill a tribute, I can't see who though. I get closer to him and grab a piece of coal.

"Surprise!" I say and slam a piece of coal right into his head.

He immediately clutches his head, which is pouring out blood.

He looks at me, rage in his eyes. I must of made him mad.

I gulp and make a break for it, going as far away as I possibly can.

Suddenly, arrows start to come from every direction and I try my best to dodge them.

Only one thing goes through my mind, <If I want to survive, I need to kill him.>

As much as I don't want to, it's what the Hunger Games is all about. Killing people....for sport.

I turn around and face my attacker, who's trying his best to kill me with his arrows. I untie the lights from my waist and wait. I wait until he gets closer. And he does, losing arrows by the minute. Once he's close enough, I use the lights like a lasso and tie him up do that he can't shoot his arrows.

I smile at my work and take out my knife. This is the part I'm gonna hate.

I step a bit closer to him. A part of me wants to run away and not go through with this but I need to win. I need to go home to my family, to my unborn sister or brother. And so, without looking, I stab him right in the chest. I hear a gasp and he goes limp, his face turning pale.

Then, the cannon goes off, <his> cannon goes off. And in that moment, I hate myself for killing someone and I hate the sound of that cannon going off.

~~~~~~~~~~