DISTRICT 1 FEMALE- CRYSTAL KIMINSKI

     I stand in line, listening to the roar of the crowd, and my district  partner being interviewed, waiting to be interviewed myself. This is  the event that determines how I get sponsors, so I have to outshine  everyone else, as my mentor said. I think of her words again, be  friendly and flawless. I'm so nervous though, that I can barely speak. I  glance down at my outfit, which is a purple high-low dress, small with  white and black diamonds studding it. My hair is curled and lies over my  right shoulder, going halfway down my waist, and is set in place with a  black clip. I'm wearing my token, a blood diamond necklace, with  matching studs. Simple makeup has been painted onto my face, complete  with one of my prep's purple lipstick. To waste time with a masterpiece,  I think.

     I rub my palms together, but they might as well have skidded, for  all the sweat on them. I stomp down the urge to hold them to my face,  not wanting to ruin my makeup. I hear my name being called, and walk out  to my spot. I am fueled by the crowd's rabid cheering, my confidence  shooting up, and make a last minute decision to go with a relaxed yet  fierce persona instead of the angle my mentor decided on, because I  don't stand a chance if my real personality shines through. No one is  gonna sponsor a kind career. Anyway, I sit down in the chair and the  screaming from the crowd faded gradually. Finally, when the cheering  fizzled out completely, Caesar, who's color this year was aqua blue,  asked me his first question.

     "So, Crystal, when you were reaped for the games, what went through  your head?" Caesar asked me. "Well, I thought of winning and bringing  glory to my district and family, but more importantly, surviving you  know? Cause when you're reaped, your mind starts just going in one  direction. And you think about winning." I said confidently. "Mmm, I  see. So what has impressed you the most since you got here?" He  questioned. I thought about this a bit before actually speaking. "The  friendliness of all of you guys. We're basically celebrities here." I  say, being very cocky, and playing the crowd. Because in reality they're  just cheering and betting on to-be killers, and only care about the  bloodiest deaths. "We are quite the crowd." Caesar said, and moved onto  the next question. "Your outfit is marvelous, so, give us a bit of  insight here, what did you think when you first saw it?" He said. I  grinned, cause this is a question I can actually answer honestly. "You  mean after I realized that the person staring back at me through the  mirror was actually me?" I say, and the crowd eats it up. "I was amazed,  and so impressed, because without my prep team and stylist, I wouldn't  be nearly as noticeable." I say, and the cameras refocus on my prep team  and stylist for a minute. "Wow, quite immense praise for them. So, in  light of your impressive training score, what is your strategy for when  you're in the arena?" Caesar asks, eager to hear reply. "Well, get a  weapon obviously. Supplies too. And go it alone, maybe get one ally."  Caesar, along with the crowd is shocked at my answer. So much so that  the surprise is practically tangible. "Why not stick with the  traditional plan for careers?" Caesar asks. "Well, for one, I'm not much  of a team player, and two, I'd rather not be there when we start  turning on each other." The audience oohs and I know my fellow careers  are smoldering at my remark right this moment. This is when I realize  that I'm golden right now, that this I want, because maybe my irregular  mindset will get me more sponsors.

     "Interesting, very very interesting." Caesar says, contemplating my  unique response. He moves on quickly though, to make up for lost time.  "Okay, last question, what's your token? What does it mean to you?" He  asks. "I'm actually wearing it, it's my necklace." I say, and gesture to  it. "My mom gave it to me 2 years ago, and it means the world to me. It  reminds to be confident, and go ahead and be me." I lie through smiling  teeth. It means so much more than that simple sentiment. "Very nice,  very interesting. Well time's up. Everyone, Crystal Kiminski from  District 1!" He yells to the audience, and I stand up to leave, smiling  and waving until I'm out of sight, but the cheering continues after I'm  gone. I walk past the tributes, and the careers, who refuse to  acknowledge me for my low-key burn. "You might want some ice for that  burn." I say, and shoulder past them. I sit, and listen to the rest of  the interviews. None stick in my mind, being relatively the same.  Finally the interviews end, and I head back to my quarters to celebrate  my victory, ignoring the pointed looks sent my way. I'm perfectly fine  with what I said. If others are, well, that's what determines how if I  live or die.

DISTRICT 3 MALE- KILLIAN SHALORE'EN

  I was counting.

  I don't know why, and I don't know if I really knew what I was doing.

   It wasn't normal counting. It wasn't a thing like the other tributes  were no doubt doing right now, like counting a one hundred and back or  something.

   I was counting a beat- one, two, three, four. One, two, three four,  following the steady tempo by which I had learned piano from my mother.

  My thoughts were turning home. I was becoming reminiscent, I was becoming nervous, I couldn't allow myself to do that. I refused to  do that, to become just another stuttering girl or boy, barely  blundering their way through a short interview with their rehearsed  lines

  I wasn't a blunder. I was dazzling.

   With each word, I tapped my foot against the ground, just passing time.  I tried not to think about how I was sitting in a small area enclosed  by black walls just high enough to obscure my view. How there were two  exits- the door I had come in through, which was no doubt locked by now,  and a breach in the wall off to my side through which I would go to the  stage.

   I didn't think of these things because I wasn't there. I was young,  playing piano, and unaware of what would happen to me by now, when I was  fifteen.

  I especially didn't  think about the fact that I was in this small area with twenty-two  other tributes, the other one up on the stage speaking with Caesar  Flickerman himself.

   Suddenly, my eye was caught on the wall across from me. It was speckled  with tiny bits of something- maybe they were lights, or maybe even some  strange sort of glitter. In all, it made the wall look like a midnight sky, full of bright stars.

   And then I really wasn't with those tributes. I was on the streets of  District Three, looking up towards the sky, starving. It had been weeks  now since I had left. I had managed to steal some food so far... but my opportunities to do so we're few and far between, and so I was surviving on the bare minimum.

  Not even that, if I was to be honest with myself.

  And it wasn't that night anymore, it was a few later, and the rough grip of the Peacekeepers were gripping my arms.

   I was being dragged roughly across the ground... no, I was in a cell,  confused as to why I was still alive, and still so hungry.

  What would my fate be now?

  I could think my way out, I could invent my way out, I could create my way out of this.

  I could... I could, if I could.

And I couldn't.

  The booming voice of Caesar Flickerman, the tributes' interviewer, jerked me from my flashbacks. I didn't know why I was roused by this round of his words this time, but some part of me ordered the rest to pay attention.

  And so I did.

  "Alright everyone!" Caesar exclaimed. I could just imagine his disgusting smile, most likely due to some kind of augmented facial feature. "Up next, we have the District Three Male, Killian Shalore'en!"

  I stood, dread creeping into the far corners of my heart. I banished it instantly. I was better than this. I knew exactly what I had to do.

  At the end of the day, the Hunger Games were a reality show. And people wanted to see the ones they liked live. I had to catch their eye, capture their attention, overwhelm their thoughts and memories with my image.

  I had to be quick, witty, and clever in my interview. I would have just enough backtalk, and just enough agreeableness.

  Because, of course, I was smarter than Caesar Flickerman. I could outmatch him in a verbal duel and secure my place as a well-like tribute.

  This was my chance to impress the Gamemakers. I was not going to let it go to waste.

  Taking a deep breath and adopting a cunning smile, I walked forward and out of the walled area. Just before I stepped out to face the crowd, I pulled a thin black veil down over my face, to obscure what was hidden underneath.

  I was going to look very mysterious, I knew. Clothed entirely in a one-piece black outfit with tiny silver lines running through it, and wearing a small helmet on my head to hold the veil. I was darkness, I was complete shadow, I was obscurity.

  More than anything, that would catch the people's attention. It already had; back at the Tribute Parade, everyone had wondered about the boy and girl in all black, nothing eye-catching about them.

  That was about to change.

  I wasn't sure if the cameras were able to pick up my smile under the veil, but I kept it on anyway just in case. I stepped forward again, facing the stage where Caesar Flickerman sat, moving to ascend the short staircase into his personal arena.

  The crowd applauded fitfully as they saw me. I was sure they though this would be an entirely forgettable experience, and I was sure they were mistaken.

  I didn't greet them too enthusiastically, as if I was desperate for attention and validation. That wouldn't earn me favor. And I didn't ignore them either- that would provoke interest, but not that much, and nobody would like me.

  And that's what this whole affair really came down to: how much the people liked you.

  So, I turned my head slightly towards them, giving my eyes only a second to peer through the veil and see the explosion of color and... interesting... fashion choices of the Capitol. I raised my left arm to my head, waving a single time, and lowered it once more.

  I was ascending the stairs now, staring directly at Caesar. I wanted him to be unsettled by my air of mystery, I wanted to have the advantage here.

  Although he technically had home-field. He looked like an eager panther, ready to pounce, dark eyes focused much-too-eagerly on me. His perfect teeth were unnatural, and his outfit-

  Oh. His. Outfit.

  What he wore was usually somewhat standard. The crisp suits and ties had become a staple of the much-adored man. But the colors changed every year, and this year especially they were shocking.

  He looked like fire, honestly. The top of his suit was the reddest of blood-reds, fading into intense oranges as one went downward, bleeding into softer yellows. The outfit took a sharp turn at Flickerman's knees as it turned to a bright blue, nearing the bottom of an open flame. His dress shoes were perfectly white.

  And I haven't even mentioned his hair- yellow at the tip, moving down into a cascade of orange and red, making it look like the man himself was  on fire.

  His warm-colored lipstick and eyeliner didn't exactly detract from the flaming look either.

  I matched him in the unusualness of clothing choice. I saw through his cheerful facade, I knew what game he was playing. He was trying to surprise me, scare me, unsettle me.

  He would soon find that to be a more difficult feat than he anticipated.

  I was nearing the center of the stage, about to take a seat in the chair across from Flickerman. But I didn't. I waited in that slot for a few precious seconds, watching the confused crowd wait with bated breath.

  "Come on, dear boy, sit down!" exclaimed Flickerman, not missing even a single beat, keeping the cheerful and slightly superior tone in his voice. This guy was good, but I was better.

  It was time to spring the trap, as long as my stylist came through.

  She did.

  The silver lines crisscrossing my body suddenly began to glow a bright, intense blue, the color spreading all throughout the paths of the lines. It exploded outward, the glow overtaking every seam and struck in the outfit, making my entire body glow blue.

  I grinned, ripping off the veil and casting it off beside me. My fave was painted a shimmering blue, with darker lips and eyelashes. This is what I had been trying to hide.

  I knew my hat was glowing too, although I couldn't see it.

  The color on me pulsed softly, darker blue lines still tracing around me from time to time.

  I was District Three. I had been the district to invent the technology responsible for creating the Hunger Games, every part of them. Without me, nobody would be here today.

  I was a shining hologram, one of my district's most important inventions. This was a living reminder that my District had created the Games, and we would win it.

  I cast a smug glance over at Caesar, relishing the cheers of shock and surprise I was getting from the crowd. It was going even better than expected- even Flickerman himself looked surprised.

  "Well, well," he began, looking back to his normal self again. "Welcome, Killian! Now today I have three tough questions to ask you, which will let everyone here get to know who you really are."

  "Than let's get on with it," I said. It was perfect, howls of laughter erupted from my captive audience. This interview was mine now, not Flickerman's.

  "First," Flickerman hissed, trying to regain his power. "We have a basic question. How do you feel about entering the Hunger Games right now?"

  I knew what he was trying to do. The audience was on my side, now they would want to see what I would say. If a botched the answer to a simple question now, I would fall out of their favor. Flickerman was employing a simple tactic- but a strong one nonetheless.

  "I really don't know how to answer that," I replied, casting a gaze out to the audience that was sure to win me some sympathy. "I mean... I'm honored of course, and I'm so exited to do my part in serving the great nation of Panem."

  I paused here, to hear the cheers from the loyal Capitol at my words. In through, I almost vomited from the sheer magnitude of the lies.

  "However," I continued. This was the part when my answer became perfectly well-rounded, and I gained some strong sympathy. "I'm a bit afraid. The probability of death is hard to consider. But I'm confident I can represent my nation and my district in a fair Games, and try my best to win!"

  I was hoping desperately this was on tape, so I could watch and laugh at it later. The crowd was eating this stuff up, and it was one-hundred percent made of lies designed to put me at an advantage!

  "Second question!" Flickerman exclaimed, rather quickly. I had won the last round, he was grasping at straws now. "How do you plan to win the Games, especially with your lack of traditional weapons training?"

  I understood. He wanted the crowd to feel like they were backing the wrong horse. This was an easy challenge.

  "I assure you, I have a plan," I replied. "I'm smart, I can use my environment is creative ways, and can make do with or upgrade anything. I urge this crowd to give me a chance to show them exactly what the guy who can't swing a sword like everyone else can do!"

  It worked. Cheers erupted once more, I had my audience's belief behind me.

  "And finally," Flickerman continued. This was his last-ditch effort, I could feel it. "You, Killian, have a troubled past. You were released from prism to come to the Games today. Why did you run from your family's money, and why did you turn to a life of thievery over living with them?"

  I almost grinned. Caesar had played his trump card, thought he had finally shifted pressure onto me by planting doubt in the people's minds and hearts.

  He was dead wrong.

  "You see," I began. "I couldn't live with what my parents were doing. They thought they were better than everyone else, thought themselves above the world. I regret what I did, by stealing a betrayed the Capitol, but I was doing it for what I thought was good! My parents are only loyal to themselves- but I am loyal to you and all of Panem!"

  This wasn't entirely a lie. There was truth in my words. It helped the delivery.

  I couldn't hold my smile back as I received the highest amount of applause yet.

DISTRICT 3 FEMALE- BAYLOR RAYLEENS

Back stage was dusty, to put it mildly.

Sawdust  billowed at the slightest disturbance. Wood underfoot creaked uneasily.  Bright, flashing lights blinded you. Perfume fumes assualted your nose.  Prep teams were constantly slapping gunk on your face or tightening a  top beyond what should be physically possible. The roaring crowd  deafened you.

I really, really, really didn't like it.

Where  was the fresh air? Where was the soft earth and undergrowth? Where was  the gentle sunlight? Where was the crisp, woodland smell? Where were the  animals who didn't attack you with powder or strangle you with clothing  items. Where was the soft birdsong?

Back in District 3, that's where.

"FRICK!"  I yelped as I tripped and stumbled, finally losing whatever balance I  managed to keep and fell face first on the stage.

Heels are out to get me. They are evil, I swear.

The  crowd laughed, whether at me or with me, I don't care. They were  laughing at my bad fortune, which hurt. Quite a lot actually. Have you  ever had a face full of stage? It's not an experience I would like to go  through again.

I  could practically hear the prep teams shrieking at my surely ruined  outfit (a black velvet, tight top with long sleeves, a floor length  forest green skirt, and heels where the top straps were black and the  actually shoe was tan). Thanks for nothing! What? No, no! I'm fine! I so  wanted that splinter up my nose, it's no biggie.

Now  that I think about it, if I had enough splinters up my nose, I could  have a portable weapon. Shoot splinters at enemies from my nose, like a  spit gun sort of. You know what, that's disgusting, never mind.

I  probably got wood shavings in my sparkly hair. My prep team curled my  black and cream hair into loose rings at the tips and threw a bunch of  glitter in purely for fun. My hair felt stiff.

I felt hands grab my shoulders and I was hoisted up rather roughly. Thanks for being gentle, geez!

"OW!" I shrieked. "Get off! Get off!"

The  hands holding me instantly let go and I lurched forward, clutching my  (not) injured shoulder. I caught myself and walked unsteadily towards  the couch on stage by Flickerman. I didn't give the guy who helped me up  a single glance. Rude? Yeah, I know.

I plopped heavily in the couch, then winced and pulled my arm closer to my body.

"Are you alright?" Flickerman asked me. I looked up. His eyes seemed genuine.

"Yeah,"  I nodded. "Just banged my shoulder point on the floor when I fell.  Which reminds me," I said loudly and turned to face the audience. "I  think I got off the on the wrong foot. Literally. I forgot how unsteady I  am on my left."

The  crowd and Flickerman alike laughed heartily and I grinned smugly. I  always did like making people laugh. Just not when I'm seriously  physically hurt.

"So,  Baylor," Flickerman started. I turned to face him with my whole body in  all it's sparkly glory. Seriously, if there was any more glitter, I'd  probably blind everyone. I raised my eyebrows expectantly. They had  sparkles in them, too.

"Tell us about your life at home."

Oh  no. Anything but that! Anything at all! I can think of so many other  questions equally as good. Like my favorite color. Animal. Food. Pair of  shoes. DON'T MAKE ME TALK ABOUT MY HOME LIFE!!!! PLEASE!

I internally screamed at Flickerman, his yellow lips (yellow is his color this year) pulled back in an encouraging smile.

I  could feel my face slackening and my eyes widening in fear. Why did  they ask something so personal? This could ruin me, if I tell. All the  barriers I put up in my mind are so fragile. No one knew about my home  life, and I intend to keep it that way. Sometimes I play the part so  well, I myself forget what I really am.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Why not tell them? Yeah, it's personal, but you'll be dead soon so what does it matter?

"Aw, c'mon. We're all interested!" The crowd gave a roar of affirmation.

Shut up.

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

I  suddenly didn't like the crowd or Flickerman very much. Not the  attention, not the question, not their encouragement. I wanted to  disappear into the couch. Or a wardrobe. Narnia sounds like a nice place  to visit.

"What's your family like? Do you have siblings? What-"

Anger  boiled in me hotly. My blood sizzled in fury and my face flushed red. I  clenched my jaw furiously and narrowed my eyes, curling my hands into  fists.

"Ask something else."

Flickerman tilted his head, eyes squinting in concern.

"But-"

"Ask. Something. Else."

"How do you like your outfit?"

I looked down at myself. I placed my chin in my hand, thinking.

"It's definitely not something I would wear on a daily basis."

Flickerman chuckled. I didn't care. I wasn't trying to be funny. I was dead serious. Humor was beyond my reach now.

"But  it's pretty and casual. Ish. Not comfortable," I said while shifting  the tight black top around my torso. "And my hair feels like it could  stand up on its own. But you know what they say; 'there's pain in  beauty'."

The  crowd murmured in agreement. Most could relate. Having your eyebrows  plucked or whole body altered isn't exactly pleasurable. It doesn't even  look good half the time! Except the tiger whiskers and fangs. Those  look cool.

"How's your fam-"

Flickerman won't give up. Well, I guess you can't have everything.

"Tell us about your outfit, Caesar," I suggested suddenly, stopping him mid-word.

Flickerman  looked startled and taken aback. I had just turned the tables on him. I  smiled innocently at him, but left my eyes with the hard glint.

His  suit was a yellow with darker yellow veins like granite running through  them. It had a white under thing (I don't know what they're called) and  bowtie. Very classy.

"What's there to tell?" he said, getting over his shock. He glanced over me with a reserved look.

"Can you quack?"

"Wh-what?" Flickerman stuttered.

Oo, another critical hit! Just as he recovered, I swept the carpet right from under his feet. Uh, metaphorically, not literally.

"I asked can you quack?" I repeated smugly.

"Why would I quack?" He genuinely looked confused. Oh, this is going to be fun. Poor Flickerman.

"Well,  you look like a duckling with all that yellow. Oh! And your hair kind  of looks like a fluffy feather some duckies have on their head!" I  smirked openly now. Aw, revenge is good.

The crowd cooed and laughed, totally seeing the resemblance. I can see the memes now.

A  picture of Flickerman with his duckling hair and an animated duckling  side by side. "Who rocks the yellow fluff better?" will be the caption.  Ooo, this will be great!

A  buzzer went off and Flickerman's uncomfortable expression instantly  turned to relief. He looked about ready to cry. I almost felt bad for  teasing him. Almost.

"Well,  that's all the time we have for Baylor Rayleens." Flickerman stood up  and ushered me off the stage. "But we'll see her in the Games."

I  chuckled darkly and waved at the crowd, before stepping off the stage  and disappeared in the shadows. They will definitely see me in the  Games.

But I'll be insane by then.

DISTRICT 4 FEMALE- SHUI YU WANG

To say that I was loving my time here in the Capitol  was a big understatement.

With every breath I took after my arrival in the  Capitol, I felt like I was suffocating. With every moment that passed, I felt like I had been continuously exposed to the crowd I could not always see, giving me no room to take a single breath. Every day I felt like I was undergoing a constant transformation,  turning from someone vulnerable to someone beautiful to someone absolutely ruthless, and I was not fond of it at all. Simply put, I hated it all.

I never asked to have my name in the reaping bowl.  I never wanted my life to be snatched away with the drawing of the paper slip bearing my name. I never wanted the attention from the people who had organized the annual event that almost seemed to demand for our blood as payment for national peace.

Initiating a war to retain a peace was quite the  irony in itself.

I glanced now at my reflection in the full-length  mirror in my room after my prep team had finished fussing with my look for the interview, frowning at the girl staring back at me. She was wearing a strapless dress made of a soft silky material, similar to the ones on the elegant qipaos my mom had in her  closet back home, the light baby blue that had coloured the bodice and corset of the dress darkening the further down it trailed until it reached the ankles, the hem swishing along with even the slightest movement. It was a little hard to see it under the  light of my room, but there were traditional Chinese cloud designs imprinted over the sheer fabric on the corset as well, keeping it true to the culture of the home which once was mine. I also recognized the little Chinese button knots that ran along the left  side of the corset--there were three, all in ultramarine. The way the dress swayed and rippled and gave off the occasional sparkle with the transparent sequins sewn on the skirt reminded me of the oceans that once beckoned to me, speaking secrets that only  I could understand.

A light pink tint coloured her cheeks and lips, and  smokey silver eye shadow painted her eyelids. A pair of open-toed diamond high-heel shoes with its straps wrapped around her feet in criss cross patterns peeked out from the hem of my dress. She raised a hand to the fishtail braid that cascaded past her left  shoulder, tied at the end with a hair tie laced with white pearls, and I felt the sleek texture of the braid under my fingers, the occasional bump making me bite my lip in uncertainty.

Staring at this image in the mirror only reminded  me of how trapped I was. She was I. I was she. And we could only look like this because of the people who were behind the scenes of this game of war, the game that would probably never cease to be played.

Gone were the days of freedom. Gone would they probably  be for the remainder of my innocent life.

From the corner of my eye I could see my stylist,  Estrela, approach me from behind, placing her heavily manicured hands on my shoulders with an overly girlish expression that almost made me puke. "Look at you, Shui Yu," she purred, her hot breath tickling my ear sending a tremor tingling through my spine.  "You look beautiful."

"And nothing like myself," I whispered. "Are you  sure this is okay?"

"Of course." She slowly turned me around so that  I was facing her. "Now where's the smile I saw you wear at the parade?"

I would be honest when I say that I was really frightened.  After all, in a little less than twenty four hours after this I would be locked in the arena with the other tributes, possibly living my final moments before it all went down. There was no room to feel happy about myself. My eyes briefly flitted downwards  to the black corded bracelet that wrapped itself around my left wrist, the final gift my mother gave to me before I left my district, focusing on the three pearls inlaid within the expert weaving that I knew my mother could do though mostly fixated on the  black pearl in the centre.

Black. It was the colour of despair, the colour of  dark times that had yet to roll along, especially with my situation as dark as it could get in a life so innocent. Gone were the days of happy times tinted in rose. But the white pearl reminded me of the home that I had yet to return to, the family that would  be watching my every move.

Never had I felt more nervous in my entire life.

"Come on, Shui Yu. We're about to go onstage soon."

Reluctantly, I forced the corners of my mouth to  rise in a tight-lipped smile. Perhaps the happiness didn't quite show in my eyes, but Estrela brushed it off.

"Good. Now just smile. Head high. Stay genuine. They  loved you at the parade! Keep it up for the interview, and you'll have sponsors lining the block before you know it!"

It seemed like we were tight for time, for she grabbed  my hand and dragged me into the elevator, where we were joined quickly with Caol Marcus, my tribute partner. To see him wearing a tuxedo made of the same ultramarine shade that decorated the hem of my dress along with a anemone boutonniere did not make me  feel comforted in the slightest. To see all the other tributes around us the moment we got backstage, each of them wearing outfits much too contrived for my taste, did not do anything to ease the unease that began to choke me from the inside, as if my own  blood had risen to my throat threatening to cut off what little oxygen I couldn't take.

Gone, soon, would be the days when we would play  dress-up for the people back home who couldn't afford these luxuries. Gone, soon, would be the days when we would look like innocent dolls before the days of blood that were yet to come.

Before I knew it, I was following the District 3  Male onstage, all of us now forming a single line walking into the spotlight and the cheers of the crowd that flooded my ears and sight. Acknowledging that we were the stars of their show did not comfort me in the slightest. I knew of people who would soak  it all in, but I was not one of them.

I would never be one of them.

Caesar Flickerman appeared on the stage soon enough  wearing a bright green tuxedo with sequins that gave off a brilliant blinding glare of light with every movement he made under the spotlight, with a wig that was dyed with the same colour. While everyone else applauded wildly at this wardrobe choice, I couldn't  help but feel that he may have yet again made himself quite the fool. From where I was sitting, he looked like a sparkling house plant. As per tradition, he opened up the interview session with a few good jokes before getting straight to business.

In the days when I watched these interviews on live  television, I would turn away from all of them except for the interviews conducted on the District 4 tributes. Being from a Career District, it was expected that we retained some sort of lust for blood and desire to win. After all, we have been training our  entire lives for this. Even I did, and all of that started by accident. But despite all the training I got, I was not in the least bit excited for the Games to unfold.

It would be unfair to say that I didn't want it.  But then again, everyone else would wish the same. That was something I could safely assume, yet no one would listen to us no matter how hard we plead.

"Hey, Shui Yu. You're on," I heard Caol mutter beside  me, patting my arm to grab my attention.

I nodded and smiled once in his direction before  rising from my seat to see Caesar already holding an arm out to welcome me into the spotlight. I was grateful that the dress was easy to walk around in, so I managed to reach him without any problem, shaking his hand the moment I reached him.

"Ah, Shui Yu," Caesar greeted me. "Wonderful to see  you tonight. And wow, is this dress something! You look like you came out of an Asian fashion magazine."

I wouldn't consider myself the epitome of feminine  Asian beauty, and I would admit that the comment threw me off completely, but I forced myself to smile and lap it up. "Thank you, Caesar. It reminds me of my home in many ways. I'm glad my prep team and stylist prepared this for me."

"Indeed, you must be." Caesar laughed, and I couldn't  help but let out a chuckle myself. "So, Shui Yu. How are you enjoying the Capitol? Is it treating you well?"

To this, I shrugged. "It's debatable. You've got  great food and fashion on one side, and then the torture to prepare it all on the other. How do you bear it?"

"Well, you know what they say," Caesar said with  a small smirk. "No pain, no gain!"

A wave of laughter tumbled through the present crowd,  and I shrugged again, feeling slightly uneasy at that claim. No pain, no gain. No blood, no crown.

Gone already were the easygoing days before the war,  then.

"Now, Shui Yu. I'm curious about your name. Shui  Yu Wang." He cocked his head to the side in intrigue, almost as if taking on an analytical stance over my entire identity and being, and I raised my eyebrows. "Of course, with none of us being Asian like you are, I'm sure we would all like to know what it  means."

"Well." I cleared my throat and smiled at the audience.  "The name 'Shui' means 'water' in Chinese. The 'Yu' in my name means 'jade'. And the 'Wang' in my name means 'hope'. So if you put it together, it means 'Hope of the jade water'." At the sight of Caesar's confused demeanour, I laughed. "Of course, not every  water can appear jade, but that depends on the water and the lighting, right?"

"True." Caesar nodded, though he still looked quite  puzzled. "True."

It seemed like they never took the time to think  creatively about the things they had right in front of them before, and that's something I found a bit disconcerting already just simply from Caesar's reaction. I always loved seeing things in a different point of view--that was what gave life so much more  perspective. But then again, imagination in a place like Panem was fruitless; it made life completely meaningless.

Gone, then, were the days of youthful wishing.

"Now, to the point of this interview. How do you  feel about the Games?" Caesar asked.

"Well..." The smile dropped from my face, and I took  a deep breath, being very careful with my words as I delivered my answer. "I feel like this year's Games, like the Games every year before this, would be very unique. I heard the Gamemakers this year have a lot of tricks up their sleeves, and so too do I.  If they consider themselves the masterminds behind the obstacles we would have to anticipate for, then so too would I consider myself a mastermind behind the weapons and skills I would use to fight back. I didn't train with blades and exercise physical endurance  for nothing. I have a complex of my own to use at my disposal. I'm not afraid to use what I'm given and granted with to win what should be rightfully mine. I'm prepared, Caesar. I'm absolutely prepared for this year's Games."

As I said this, however, I felt my stomach clench  uncomfortably, my face suddenly taking on a pained expression. I may have been physically prepared, but I highly doubted that even with my confident answer I would feel prepared at all.

I could barely hear anything after he dismissed me,  and I went back to sit with the other tributes.

Gone, already, were the days which I would still  feel protected and safe.

And now, I was now on my own.

DISTRICT 5 MALE- DALLY LOWE

Death, the only thing in life that we know for sure is going to happen. How it will happen no one knows. I don't dwell to much on how I will die one day. I hadn't realized that day might be coming much sooner than I thought.

Getting reaped wasn't the worst part of my week. My family not caring about what might happen to me wasn't something that mattered to me anymore. The worst part was seeing Helena in the arms of another man not looking at me as I got onto the tribute train that would take me to the capital.

As if the past few years had meant little to nothing to her. I remember people looking at me with pity. Others would look at me saying he was naive that he still had much time to find love.

Life was cruel though, finding love wasn't something that mattered. Getting out of this place was though. I would win these games leave district five make a new name and life for myself.

I didn't need anyone.

Friendship lead to weakness. Relationships ended in broken promises. Life ended in betrayal. I wouldn't allow myself to succumb to any of these things. I wouldn't have to.

Getting dressed in the suit I was given was something I liked. It was made of silk. It felt

smooth on my skin. The shoes were elegant and nice. My brown hair was swept up in fancy sort of style that I had only seen in the daily newspaper.

Looking in the mirror that allowed me to see my full body. I felt as good as the suit looked. The undershirt was a light purple. The jacket was brown with white stripes running horizontally. Black buttons to the left side. The suit was classy but the design on it made it look old fashioned. The slacks were also the same as the jacket.

I didn't notice someone had joined me by the mirror as I was looking into it. A smile was on my face. When somebody gasped. I quickly turned around the smile leaving my face.

"No! Don't stop!" The woman spoke her green hair up in a bun bouncing a little as she moved.

"What?"

"Your smile, it's beautiful! Why would you ever try and hide it?" She asked looking me up and down looking at the suit making sure it was all fine.

"I didn't come here to look pretty." I rolled my eyes crossing my arms.

"The capital wants to see smiles. Like you love being here and playing. This isn't about looking pretty or scary. It's about getting people to like you, interest them with something so they keep talking about you." She was straightening my jacket now putting some finishing tasks to it.

"I had a plan to keep my facade of being strong, how i was going to win." I was looking at the door now not moving as she finished up.

"They hear enough about that from district one and two." She was looking into my eyes as she spoke.

"What do I do then."

"I'm just a designer, but if your mentor hasn't much to say, I'll say it for her. Give them something to talk about."

Looking at her closely now. The green in her hair and eye makeup made her light brown eyes stand out. She had her hands on my chest now slowly getting closer. I didn't know what I was doing. Maybe it was because she was me the advice I'd been wanting to hear for awhile now. Or simply I was caught up in the moment.

Just as the distance was going to close, a loud voice boomed over on top of us calling all the tributes.

She pulled back quickly as if she hadn't know what she was doing. I moved towards her lightly grabbing her arm squeezing it lightly.

"Thank you," a smile shot at her with a slight wink as I left the room. I smiled wider seeing the blush on her pale cheeks.

I hadn't realized until much later that I didn't know her name. Besides that I hadn't thought about Helena in those moments either.

Waiting to be called as other tributes went. I saw that districts one and two had said the same thing I had wanted to say. No one was really surprised if anything they looked like something they were expecting.

I was getting ready to go watching as my partner came down her dress flowing behind her.

"Dally Lowe!"

The crowd cheered as I came out. I bowed towards them, giving Caesar Flickerman a hard handshake as I sat down.

I noticed that he was wearing red tonight. From his hair to his suit. It surprisingly didn't look all too bad maybe it was just that he fit the style. He looked cheerful as ever, as if he didn't have any problems in the world. Which living like this maybe he didn't.

"Welcome Dally! Tell me how is the capital treating you?"

"Ah, well it's certainly very different then what I'm used to!" I spoke a smile on my face as I looked at the crowd.

Caesar and the crowd breaking into light laughter.

"My, what a nice smile you have," Caesar commented continuing looking thoughtful, "is it from your family?" he asked.

I had hoped they wouldn't bring them up.

"Well. I'm not sure, my family is very serious. Mother and father have a complicated life as it is. I don't mean to sound tragic or bring the mood down but what they have I wouldn't wish it on anybody."

My voice wavering a bit as I remembered how my father treated my mother as if she was nothing. I meant it when I said that nobody deserved to feel as if they weren't any better than the trash on their feet.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Flickerman looked down patting my knee.

"It's nothing. That was then and this now!" I told them all trying to hopefully lift the mood. It worked as the crowd clapped.

After that he asked me about my tactics, what strategies I had. I, of course answered those to the best of my ability. Except after hearing how everyone was going to pull this off I knew it was getting repetitive in some cases.

Finally he asked me about something that could lead me to give the crowd something to talk about.

"Tell me Dally did you leave somebody behind? I'm sure you must have! You're almost as good looking as I am!" Flickerman teased resulting in laughter from the audience and me as well.

"I did have somebody. I even thought to give them a ring. Except she made it clear that she didn't love me as much as I loved her." I was tilting my head trying hard not think about the time when I had caught her. Lips on another man. A little bump on her stomach showing as well.

Something I couldn't have done seeing as I believed in waiting for marriage.

The crowd was booing as I finished my sentence. Flickerman raised his hand silence filling the air. He looked at me asking me to continue.

"I can't help but think now that love isn't real. If two almost three years meant nothing. Then what did? I still wear the ring I was going to give her, to remind myself of how much pain I felt that night."

The crowd was silent all eyes looking at me eagerly waiting for I, to continue my story.

"These games. I'll win them for her." I finally concluded.

Flickerman looked interested in the drama I was giving him. The crowd looked a little displeased in my ending though. They didn't know what I was going to say.

"You hope she'll take you back?" He asked.

Finally the question I wanted.

"No. To show her what she missed out on." I told him giving the crowd a smug smile. I couldn't help but love the attention as the crowd burst into claps and cheers as if that's what they had been wanting to hear.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Dally Lowe!" Flickerman shouted.

I bowed again to the giving one last smile and wink as I left the stage. I couldn't help but think that it went well enough.

Except my mind wandered back to Helena. If she had asked me to take her back before coming here I would have in a heartbeat.

Now though I wasn't so sure.

If these twisted games didn't kill me first then heartbreak would

DISTRICT 6 MALE- RAYYAN DARHK

I was up next. I hated this never have I been one to draw attention to myself but now I guess I have to if I want to stand a chance in the arena "Rayyan Darhk" Flickerman's voice says overly excited especially for sending children into an arena for them to murder each other to the last man standing I walk out plastering a smile on my face and sitting "So how old are you Rayyan"

"Im 17" I respond trying to sound like I could breath in these clothes the only comfortable part of my outfit is the boots Im used to boots

"Now Rayyan it says here you're an orphan" Ceaser's faces softens slightly "Is that true"

"It is true Ceaser my parents and my older sister were killed in the bombing of the capitol when I was 3" I look at his peach colored hair and obnoxious suit stare me in the face

"You've been on your own since you were three wow" he says "it says here you're a mechanic and you support yourself"

"I do Ceaser I've been working since last year" I say "What else is a 17 year old to do other than work"

DISTRICT 9 MALE- SCOUT FORMAN

In a world where you might die before your eighteenth birthday, the last thing you have in mind is hope. Hope is for people who wish for a better future, that things might magically change for the better. It's those people who I sneer at but secretly wish the same. Yet hope doesn't exist in a world where everything is cruel and meant to shatter. 

People say I should be grateful for what I have. That I was saved, of course I am but does that take away the pain from before? Does it take away the memories or the haunting words my mind speaks to me?

It doesn't. You just have to continue and keep moving forward. It was easier said than done though.

"That's my baby! No! Thomas let me go! I need to save him!"

The screams of my mother as she was being dragged away from the train by my father, whose eyes held tears but also a sense of pride, was enough to make me close my eyes as tears threatened to slip out. I was one step closer to death or victory. Taking a deep shuddering breath trying to control my emotions as they all tried to slip out.

Looking at what I did though, I can't seem to regret it. I, Scout Forman, took the place of a younger boy whose family had already lost two children. They would have been left with nothing. How could I possibly not volunteer, coming from a person who had nothing for the first part of my life. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

That was in the past though. It wouldn't do me any good to keep dwelling on it. That was then and this now. In the capital where people wished to live at. The place of a wealthy lifestyle. Looking at everyone, it didn't look appealing. It seemed to fake to be even real. I didn't like fake things, it meant that you couldn't handle what was real and in front of you.

People were looking at me as they all ran around trying to figure out what kind of outfit would be good for the tribute parade.

I could see my district partner shuffling around as if she didn't know what to do. She was definitely something else, I had seen anger in her eyes when the prep team told her she would have to let go of her cat ears. I'd never seen someone eyes change until then. Even if lightly and for a brief second. We hadn't talked much before the games actually. She was always around but at the same time she wasn't. It was kind of sad to see someone so young in these games. It also wouldn't do me much good to grow attached especially just because she was young.

"It's always the same with this district! It's to bland you can't work with anything but yellow!" One of the females in the prep team spoke up in frustration. It was obvious that she was mad about getting put on a team with no glamours styles.

I huffed softly rolling my eyes as the woman continued to speak loudly against the district. I couldn't help but cough loudly getting her attention. "You do know that grain comes in different shades besides yellow, besides that it's not the only thing we do," my arms had crossed over my chest as I spoke to her. I didn't care if I sounded rude or not. I wasn't going to let some woman speak against my district without the right facts.

"It's true besides-," Nayn had started to speak her voice soft as the wind. It was actually really calming. Before she could continue the woman cut her off with a sneer on her face that resembled a cake.

I clenched my hands tightly gritting my teeth it seemed even here there would be bullies. I was naive to think other wise, stupid me.

"That is enough Julia! I want you off my team now!" a woman who couldn't be over thirty spoke up.

"Emma! You-"

"Out."

The word was spoken in a tone the seemed to yell that she would be able to offer a lot of a punishment if Julia didn't do as she was told.

Looking at Emma though I could understand why. She looked fierce, a woman who wasn't afraid to use force. Her hair was short and light brown with the tips colored a light red. Her face also held a lot of makeup but she seemed to make it work.

Her finger pointed towards me, "You. Walk with me and tell me more about the different shades of grain. I think this year we might finally be able to do justice to district nine." I hesitantly took a slow step forward until she raised her eyebrow at me. I quickly moved faster. Already speaking as we left to another room.

"This is perfect!" Emma shouted with a gleeful shout as she looked at me up and down in the costume she had designed.

"I feel uncomfortable." I told her looking at the ground.

"No. None of that! Stand tall and look proud. It'll ruin the costume if you don't!" Emma was glaring at me as she yelled.

"This isn't a costume! It's a rag made of grain! This isn't at all appropriate!" I pleaded for her to understand.

She didn't.

"Do you not remember district fours costume last year? Stop whining before I actually give you something to whine about!"

I grimaced remembering district fours costume last year. It was only a blue shell for the male and three shells for the female. I didn't want to get to into detail about that though.

I moved to look at myself in the mirror in despair. It was hard to not break my hard stare seeing as the strips of grain was tickling the back of my knees.

I was shirtless, meaning everyone could see just how pale I actually was. I had a type of clothing made of strips of long grain. The top part being a nice soft texture, until it reached a little above my knee. It got a more raspy, bumpy feel to it. I didn't really know how to make it stop.

My legs had twirls of darker shades of grain wrapped around them with light flecks of green sprinkled around it as well. My arms were bare but my neck was covered with necklaces made to seem like it was beads but it was actually just seeds.

It reminded me of the Egyptians attire we learned about and saw in our textbooks back in class. If anything all of this was making me feel a lot more homesick then I thought I would be. It made me miss the fields in which I would stare at. The wind would sometimes push it forward and backwards making it to be so much more lovely.

Nayn soon enough was standing next to me. I looked at her seeing that her costume was much like mine but more covered at least. What stood out the most was the skirt. Long in the back but short in the front almost making a bowl like shape. It was honestly one of the better things I had seen in awhile.

The other districts all had costumes but they seemed to be plain and following the rules of the district nothing seemed to scream out "Notice Me!" it was regular like every year.

It seemed like they noticed when they saw what I was wearing. It wasn't much and It clearly wasn't like I had much muscles to offer but still they looked. I stood a little taller, I put on a mask of indifference making everything stand out a little more. I had black eyeliner surrounding my eyes. Emma said it would make the blue of my eyes pop.

We were getting on the carriage waiting for our turn. I felt nervous to think that so many people would see me. I wondered if the bullies from my districts were laughing at me. Waiting to see how much of a mess i would. I wouldn't give them that satisfaction though.

The whole arena was vibrating as the chariots started coming out one by one. I kept my head up not looking at anybody hoping they would notice the change of style. Thankfully they did they started cheering loudly.

"Look at those eyes!"

"It's so different!"

"Wow! It's real grain!"

Different shouts were coming from all over as they cheered loudly. Looking up I could see myself in a side banner. I looked strong ready for anything that was coming my way. It was nothing from what I was really feeling at the moment. I allowed a hint of a smirk to appear at the moment it felt appropriate.

I looked up seeing president Snow leaning forward in his chair. His face as stoic as ever. Yet that was the most interested he seemed. It felt like I had done something right as this happened.

Slowly we all got to be in front of him.

The reality of the situation I am in was becoming more and more real.

Hope seemed even more far away then it did before.

"Welcome Tributes,"

It was only a matter of time now.

DISTRICT 11 FEMALE- RINN VASSAGO

     I nervously glanced around from behind the stage.  I couldn't see anything, Thanatos and I were at the back of the curtains.  Instead of regular, thick, performance curtains, they were black everywhere except for the tribute's faces.  From District One to Twelve, all twenty-four of them were projected onto the background.  That much was all I could tell from waiting for my turn.  The interviewer, Caesar Flickerman himself, was talking.  Fauve, the girl from Ten, was in her own interview.  Caesar bounced questions back almost as quickly as she answered them.  One by one, the crowd erupted with laughter in response to Caesar's comments.  Fauve must be doing well.  As much as any other part of preparing for the Games, the individual interviews are very important.  If nobody favors you or believes you'll win, the score given from the Gamemakers practically means nothing.  Without gifts and sponsorships, you have nothing to work with, and I for sure won't be running towards the bloodshed.  Being smaller than most of the others, it would be a death wish.  I would be caught, and then killed.  No, I couldn't let that happen.  I have to win over the crowd so I have a chance to be sponsored.

     A clicking sound interrupted my thoughts, and Fauve exited the stage, her shoes echoing on the flooring.  Next up was Darell Johnson.  He turned on his heel towards the entrance, and stepped into the audience's view.  They were all silent as he sat down with Caesar, their eyes glued on him.  However it wasn't the normal staring that usually occurred, they were looking at his red hair, matching glasses, and the dark purple suit that clung to his skinny frame.  Some had mixed expressions and others looks of disgust, people were so judgemental!  Caesar introduced him to the crowd, and they began to talk. 

     Before I could realize it, Darell's three minutes were up and he left.  It was my turn now.  I felt a cold hand on my back, and turned towards the figure.  It was only Atlas, District Eleven's designer.  I looked into his icy aqua eyes as he told me what to do. 

     "Rinn, just be yourself.  They will love you, as long as you remember the plan."  He reached around my neck and unclipped my hair, so instead of a neat bun, it was in dark, loose waves draping down my back.  He cracked a small smile, but still noticeable, and made one more adjustment.  Atlas took out a thin crown and placed it on my head.

     "That's a little better, eh?" His voice was gravelly, as if he was holding back tears.  The halo-like crown was made of loose strands of wheat which were entwined around a thin golden wire.  I reached a hand up to touch it, but he gently pushed it back down and shook his head slightly.  Atlas' smile grew into a grin, but didn't quite reach his deep set eyes.  The aqua coloring of his irises glowed with a flurry of past memories—a recollection of regret, pain, and sadness.  I've recently found that same look of despair in many people's eyes since the reaping.  It was growing to be quite a familiar look to me, plastered on the faces of Felix and Lydia.  It was the last thing I saw as I left my district, but it won't be the last look I see against their features.  No kid should have to replace their hope with loss, and I'm not going to be the one to paint that expression over their smiles. 

     I took a few deep breaths which had been advised by Atlas, and waited for my signal to go on the stage.  It seemed like an eternity, and I soon found my fingers twisting around the silky fabric of my dress.  It was a flowing gown that ran down a few inches past my knees.  The material that flowed from my slim figure was a dark emerald colored silk, which was a luxury I had never known living in Eleven.  The dress had long, tightly woven mesh sleeves, and the same mesh cutting a straight line from shoulder to shoulder, just under my collar bone.  At my waist, golden embroidery circled the circumference of the dress, and as it grew higher to my chest, it swirled into detailed leaf patterns.  I've never worn something this glamorous, but I don't dislike it—not completely at least.  My life before the reaping had been a clash of browns, tans, and whites, yet they all turned brown at some point.  Working in the fields of the district known for its agriculture wasn't easy.  It required long, relentless hours planting and farming.  I suppose this was the main reason for my so called "disastrous fashion sense".  That had been the first thing that the prep team said about the rest of the districts as I walked in for my fitting.  I didn't mind though, focusing on what I wore wasn't going to feed and take care of my siblings. Even so, the prep team did their best to make me look younger and most importantly, vulnerable.  If I'm going to win the hearts of Panem, I'm surely not going to do it by frightening them to death!  They would love me for who I am, or at least who I present myself to be.  That all depended on tonight, right now. 

     The music came back on abruptly, and it was time for me to walk out.  Put a smile on, and be yourself, I repeated in my mind as I made my way to the audience.  Unlike the other girls, my shoes soundlessly walked across the tile.  For a modest look, golden flats were chosen by Atlas to accompany the golden threading on my dress.  For possibly the first time in my life, I felt like I was beautiful.  People glanced at me, their eyes wide with wonder.  I had many plans for them, they just didn't know that yet.  After my moment of confidence, nerves washed over me and I felt as if I was growing pale.  I hope they can't tell through the makeup, but it was light, so I had my doubts.  They kept staring, and I stared back, lost in thought.  The dozens of faces started to transform into something else, looks I haven't seen for quite some time.  My parents.  My mom and dad sat out in the back, front, middle—everywhere I looked, they were there.  The only thing that saved me from the trance, was Caesar's hand grasping mine in a friendly gesture.  He led me to the interviewing chair, and continued taking.  I blinked, and the faces returned as they were before, the ghosts and memories of my parents nowhere to be seen.  I urged myself to stick to the plan, and lifted a kind smile upon my fair complexion.  The crowd continued to be silent with awe—at least that's what I hope it was—and Caesar spoke.  As soon as his voice filled the room, I didn't feel so alone anymore.  And as comfort came over me, I started to notice the little details.  Caesar, in the chair next to me, was in a light purple suit, almost a color I would describe as a shade of sheer violet.  The fabric shined against the mix of fluorescent and colored lights, working well with his matched hair color.  His lips stretched into a smile, and the interview began.

"Rinn Vassago," he spoke as if trying out the name.  "What a pleasure it is to have you here."  I nodded and continued smiling in response, even though it started to feel like a grimace.

     "Maybe not such a pleasure for you, I take it."  Caesar added this as the crowd almost exploded into laughter.  He really did have an effect on them. 

     "Now Rinn, tell me.  How did you get to be here, sitting with us today?"  It's my turn to talk, don't mess up Rinn.

     "I was reaped into the Games, along with Thanatos."  My voice stayed soft, innocent. 

     "Ah.  I see," he said in despair.  It was a wonder how he could take knowing a tribute well, to knowing their death well.  Year by year though, he went through the interviews over and over.  He started on his next question, leaving the previous one to question about.

     "What about District Eleven—it's Eleven isn't it?"

     "Yes." I gave a small nod in recognition.

     "How was your district compared to the Capital, so far?"  I gave a small thought to this, then explained.

     "Well... it was very different, not nearly as glamorous as it is here.  I worked on the fields for farming, and I took care of my siblings Felix and Lydia.  I do enjoy the food here though, it's a nice change from my usual meals at home."  He smiled back, and held his microphone back up.

     "I can't disagree with the wonderful food!  Don't you just find the soup amazing?"

     "Very much so."  I got a sentence out before the laughing started up again.

     "Back to your home, when you mean take care of your siblings, you mean with your parents, am I correct?"

     "No, they were killed when I was seven.  I take care of Felix and Lydia myself, but we manage," I say careful not to let a tear roll down my cheek.  Be strong, you're almost done.

     "That must've been so tough." 

     "It was, and I want to return to them, once the Games are over.  I won't go down without a fight."  The audience takes a second then looks back in question and agreeing nods.

     "Well with your high—and may I add impressive—training score, I have many hopes for you.  Oh isn't she just the sweetest thing!" He added the last part, and I felt my cheeks heat up with a blush spreading across my face, and I looked down at my lap.

     "Thank you Caesar."  He then clasped my hand in both of his, and gave a hopeful smile.

     "Rinn, Panem is rooting for you.  We wish you luck to win for your siblings and may the odds be ever in your favor."  He grinned and helped me up off the stage.  The only I could think about, was becoming a victor.  I wasn't going to go down without a fight, I said to myself while a smirk found its way to my mouth.  Panem has soon to realize what I have in store.