You guys are totally inspiring me to keep writing! Enjoy! Warning though, it gets a little graphic...

5

Let the Games Begin

Fifteen...

It looks like a rainforest.

Fourteen...

With two cliffs. I guess I need some rope.

Thirteen...

I can probably get water inside the forest.

Twelve...

But who knows what's in there.

Eleven...

I guess I don't have a choice.

Ten...

Okay, this is it. Where's Marina? There she is. She has the bracelet! Good.

Nine...

I don't like the way that Brutus is looking at me.

Eight...

Focus Finnick.

Seven...

Breathe.

Six...

Wait, what's in the Cornucopia?

Five...

Knives and ropes and packs.

Four...

Is there a trident?

Three...

I don't see one.

Two...

Shit!

One...

Shit shit shit!

The horn went off and I was in a full sprint, though I had no idea where I was going. To the Cornucopia, I guess. I was running as fast as my legs would carry me, looking around at the blur of other bodies doing the same. My feet slammed into something and I fell face first into the ground. I looked and saw a large backpack with ropes and clips and a rolled up blanket. I also saw I was in the middle of the supplies. And the others were coming in fast.

Finnick! Move!

I stumbled up and slung the pack over my shoulders. There was no food anywhere that I could see, so I went deeper towards the back of the Cornucopia. Where were the weapons?

I found a belt with knives and picks so I took that up as well. Then something smashed into the side of my head and I was thrown to the ground. The world didn't look right and I could swear I saw stars. It was dark, why was it dark?

Because Brutus was standing over me, blocking out the sun.

"I've had enough of you, Prettyboy," he growled, lifting a heavy hammer over his head.

MOVE!

I crawled away just as the hammer came down, the sound resonating through my head. He may be strong, but Brutus seemed to move in slow motion with that heavy hammer. But then again I could feel myself moving in slow motion too and I think my head was bleeding. People were fighting all around us, and most of the weapons were gone. There wasn't a lot to begin with. I rolled to the side to avoid the strike of the hammer again and then pulled out one of the climbing picks. Adrenaline was pulsing through my veins so hard I thought my ear drums might burst with the rhythm of it. Brutus screamed and lost the hammer, leaping at me with his full body. I found myself pinned against the inner wall of the Cornucopia with Brutus's fists raining down on me. It wasn't until I tasted blood that my mind started working again and I drove the pick into his leg.

"Aaagh!" he roared, stumbling back. I kept the pick in my hand and jumped up, trying not to trip on anything else, but my vision was so blurry. But I broke away from the scraps of supplies and was running. Running, running, running. But Brutus was right on my heels, even with his limp. I guess he was faster than I anticipated. In a last ditch effort, I swung the pick around blindly behind me and caught his cheek. I think it ripped open, but I didn't wait to find out. I was running deep into the rainforest as fast as I could, the pounding of my heart overpowering my ability to hear if anyone was pursuing me. I broke through a thicket of trees and ran head on into another body.

"Oh...um..." the person panicked, trying to wriggle out from underneath me. I tried to focus on their face and recognized the starving boy from District twelve. He looked positively terrified.

Kill him Finnick, it's best you do it now and put him out of his misery.

But I couldn't. I got to my feet and just kept racing as deep as I could into the jungle. My heart was so damn loud. My head hurt and so did the rest of me for that matter. But I didn't stop until I hit a meadow. The bright whiteness of the flowers was so sudden and so shocking I couldn't help but stop. It was like they were glowing. I stumbled around through them and got the odd sensation that the earth was moving around under my feet. The flowers beneath me were growing red spots, so I ran from them. But everywhere I went the flowers erupted with red so deep it looked like blood. Blood? I thought blood was black?

And then the world melted in on itself and I fell into nothing.

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He wasn't doing as well as I thought he was going to. I sat in the square with my family to watch the beginning of the games amongst the crowd, expecting Finnick to run in and dominate the competition with his rope and trident skills, but he didn't. Instead he got hit on the head with a hammer, beat up, and ran off into the jungle without killing anyone. I personally didn't mind that part, but if he was going to get the sponsors and win, he was going to have to kill. It was just the way the games were played.

We were all surprised at the lack of tridents in the mix of weapons at the beginning. I thought for sure they would put one in there for him, but as discussed between the head gamemaker and Caesar, the weapons and supplies are usually selected far in advance and they do not make special exceptions for any one tribute. Which I thought was a complete lie. They always manipulate the games in the way that they want them to be, planned or not. My sister couldn't help but taunt me a little.

"He doesn't look good, Annie. I think he's going to be dead in a few days."

I rolled my eyes, "Why do you have to do that? He's my friend."

Pearl imitated me rolling my eyes and laughed, "Does he know that?"

Be nice Annie. Remember mom always told you to be nice no matter what.

"I think he'll be fine. He's just sleeping."

Truth is I was worried. They didn't show us the footage live because they were too busy broadcasting the Career clan killing five children at the Cornucopia's mouth and then going in hunt of more. And a girl from six that stumbled into some weeds that came alive and strangled her to death. Finnick was shown later, staggering dizzily through the trees and into a clearing where he spun around and mumbled something about flowers and passed out. When it was clear that nothing exciting was going to be happening with him for a while, they moved back to the Careers and revealed that very little food was provided in the supplies and most of it would have to come from the forest or from sponsors. Brutus was the vision of gore with his bleeding leg and ragged, torn cheek which hung open awkwardly, but he marched on with the rest of the Careers. Surprisingly enough, both kids from District nine were allowed to join the usual pack. The girl from twelve, both of district ten, the boy from eleven, and Sadie-from Seven-were all dead in the initial bloodbath.

I decided I'd seen enough on the big screen and went to go comb the beach for shells. The sky was mostly cloudy but the sunset was tinting it orange and a grayish purple that I found to be soothing. The beach had lots of good sea-glass to offer today, so I laced a make-shift grass bowl together and began to collect. Maybe I could put it in a vase to decorate the hut a little bit more...

I was alone today because my friends were all with their families, watching the games. I suppose I should be too, if just for the sake of making sure Finnick was still alive. But I didn't want to. Because what if he wasn't?

After about two hours I started back for home. I went inside and put the bowl of glass on the little wooden table in the middle of the room. I heard a young man's voice and my sister giggle from outside the hut and I wonder if she has friends over.

Pearl stumbled in to the hut and looked surprised to see me, "Oh, Annie, what are you doing home?"

"I got you some sea glass. Where's Echo?"

Pearl bit her lower lip and swayed a little, giggling even though nothing was funny.

"She went to a friend's house for the night. They're going to stay up and watch the games I guess."

I started to say something when a boy walked in the hut, reaching out for Pearl. He had long blonde hair and no shirt, but I didn't recognize him. He buried his face in Pearl's neck but she gently pushed him away and nodded in my direction. He seemed to suddenly despise my presence.

"Hi," I whispered with a quick wave. He smiled wryly back, but didn't say anything.

"Annie, why don't you go somewhere else?" Pearl said in a tone that meant she wasn't actually asking.

"Am I going to have to sleep outside?" I whined. She nodded and pointed her finger at the door. "And don't let me catch you snooping."

I scooped up my straw mat and left, setting up underneath the window. I guess it could be worse, it could be raining or cold. But it was actually a good temperature tonight and the fresh air kept me calm. I could hear the overlapping voices of several televisions playing the games in different huts. No mention of Finnick from what I could get. I laid down on the mat and tried to get some sleep.

But I didn't get to sleep for very long. I had a nightmare. Finnick's mother running through the village screaming, "He's dead, he's dead, he's dead!" Pearl sat outside the hut, tying a net, and laughing. Peacekeepers arresting Finnick's mother and father. I had to watch. The one peacekeeper pushed me over and I fell on the sea glass. Then my hands were bleeding and I was in Finnick's clearing, stumbling around dripping blood everywhere.

"Where's the flowers?" I shouted, not knowing why.

Then I woke up and found it was still dark. All lights inside my hut were off but I didn't dare look inside because Pearl said not to. Instead I crept across the street to peer in the window of our neighbor, where their television was still lit up even though the family inside was snoring heavily.

Finnick!

The cameras were on him because he was waking up. The poor thing looked sick and confused by where he was. Blood was caked all over his face and clothes. He groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes, assessing his body for damages. Most of it seemed to by some badly bruised knees, a sore shoulder, and a pounded face. The gash left behind my Brutus's hammer was red and swollen and still looked to be bleeding a little. Finnick moaned and covered his face in his hands.

What are you thinking, Fin? You're in so much danger there.

He reached for his pack and started to rummage through it. There was a long, blue rope. Some clasps and two hooks. Some dried fruit and meat, though not enough to sustain him for very long. A blanket. A filled water bottle. Some sunglasses which I recognized to be the kind that let one see at night. And some empty containers. And that was a pack from the middle of the Cornucopia? I guess supplies weren't going to be the focus this year. He had two picks, three knives, and a pair of fingerless gloves from the belt he picked up.

He seemed disappointed with his findings and packed most of them back up except for the food and water. Then, much to the excitement of half the young girl's generation, he removed his shirt and began tearing it up into strips with his strong, perfectly sculpted arms. He tied two of them over his head injury and put the rest in his pack. Then he took to drinking the water and eating the food.

Preserve it Fin, don't be stupid...

But he ate all of it with a guilty look on his face the whole time. Just like a boy to not be able to control his appetite. And from the looks of it most of his water was gone too.

But the screen flashed over to the two girls from eleven and three were fighting over a small backpack filled with food, and neither of them had any weapons so it was all hand-on-hand combat. Girl from eleven hit three with a rock and then choked her out. I couldn't decide which was weirder, the scene I just witnessed or how numb I was to it.

When Finnick hadn't appeared on screen for a full ten minutes, I got bored and went back to my mat.

I didn't wake up until the morning sun barely rising and Pearl's fiancé, Stephen, arrived with a large fresh catch slung over his shoulder.

"Morning Annie," he greeted me, with a weird tone in his voice, "why are you sleeping outside?"

At first I didn't know what to say. It wasn't really my place to talk about Pearl and her actions.

"Pearl wanted some privacy," is all I said. Stephen's eyebrows creased and he went inside without knocking. Rude.

I followed nervously after, to find my sister leaning against a table in her night dress, looking at Stephen with surprise. Her friend was nowhere to be seen.

"Why was Annie sleeping outside?" Stephen asked accusingly, placing his catch down on the table. Pearl's brows went up and she batted her eyelashes at him, as if taken aback.

"I don't know, she wanted to I guess."

Stephen shook his head, "No, she said you wanted some privacy."

She sighed and walked up to him, placing her hands gently on his chest looking down at her feet, "We had a fight. About Echo. It's no big deal I just didn't want to keep arguing so I sent her outside to leave me alone."

Stephen looked suspicious at first, but one reassuring smile from Pearl made his face melt and he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Okay, sorry. You know how I get... when...well half the men in this village look at you the way they do."

Pearl smiled lightly and patted his head.

"You owe me now for being mean. Could you go gut that fish and fry it up for breakfast? I have to clean up here a bit then get Echo, and then we can eat together."

Stephen nodded and picked up the catch, disappearing out the back door. I watched him go until Pearl's hand connected with my face.

"What are you doing?" she hissed angrily at me. Tears sprung into my eyes and I held my cheek, wondering what I did wrong.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you trying to get me into trouble with him or something?" she whispered louder, her whole face turning red. I didn't answer, so she pushed me down and grabbed my hair. She was pulling it back so hard I thought she might tear it out. I stared up into her eyes, waiting for her to say something.

"We cannot afford to lose Stephen, do you understand me? I don't care what I do, what you see, or what you hear. You are never, ever, going to rat me out to him again."

"Okay, okay," I cried, trying to loosen her grip on my hair.

"Ever!" she shouted, throwing me into table. I pulled my knees up to my chest and started crying; sometimes she could be so mean.

"Go outside and wash the dishes. Then I want you to take the laundry down from the line. Don't let me catch you not working today," she said sternly before leaving out the front door. I immediately got up and started collecting the plates and cups from the countertop to bring down to the water. Yes, she could be cruel. But she was my family; she took control after our parents died. I did owe her, I'd never stop owing her. So I switched on the television, hoping to hear some good news about Finnick, and got to work.

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I was screwed. I woke up not in a meadow but a pile of moss, covered in my own blood, and to make things worse I ate all my food and lost my shirt. Well the shirt thing was okay, I guess that could get me some more sponsors, but as for the food and even the rest of the supplies it appeared to me I was completely and utterly screwed.

I was also in a lot of pain. My face was swollen from the blows I'd received from Brutus, and my head was in a state. I managed to move to a more hidden position under some bushes, but that was about all I felt fit to do.

You're going to have to man up, Finnick.

After changing my bandages and taking a short nap, I decided I had to find some water. So off I went, trudging through the unfamiliar jungle. I wished I could remember some of those edible plants the instructor taught me about, but they had all looked the same to me. There was no way I was going to eat anything without absolutely knowing what it was.

I must have walked for an hour, but still no body of water. The air was damp so I knew it had to be around somewhere, but where?

"There you are," a deep, ragged voice hissed. I spun around just in time to see Brutus lunge at me. I darted out of the way and pulled out a knife from my belt, holding it at the ready.

Why me?

I felt sick when looking at him, with his cheek torn completely open. It was horrible, and even more so because I did it to him.

"You're going to die for this, Prettyboy," he gasped, pointing to his face. I tried to move but he grabbed my wrists and twisted them until I cried out, thinking they'd break. My foot shot out from underneath and kicked him between the legs. Once free I reached for the knife I dropped, but didn't get there. Brutus threw me, but I was up in a second, blocking his blows with my arms. It was like the time my father's vessel got attacked by another fishing boat, only this time I got to fight.

I rolled into the bushes where I just was and finally retrieved my knife, my lifeline. Brutus roared and charged after me with a spear which he hit me across the chest with, but if it cut me or not I didn't know because I sprung forward and buried the knife deep into his chest cavity. The life went out of his eyes and his face dropped and for a moment I was afraid he'd freeze like that. But then he fell back into the moss, dead. The firing of the canon assured me of that.

I've killed someone. I'm a murderer.

My pulse was still beating, so I pulled my knife from him and wiped it on the grass before putting it back in my belt. I felt very different, somehow numb and cold.

Fish in a pool; either they die or I do.

"Bravo," a cold, invisible voice cooed. The rest of the Careers slowly emerged from the thickets, the girl from One in the lead. She was clapping slowly.

I definitely didn't have the energy to take them all on at once. Not at that moment. My eyes searched for a way out, an escape, but nowhere seemed plausible.

"What do you want?" I asked, lifting my chin. No way was I going to show weakness now.

"Relax," the girl purred, "if we wanted you dead, you would be."

I can't believe I never took notice of her before. I think her name was Celeste. And she was more wildly beautiful than all the other female tributes I'd seen, even Rye. Her eyes were neon blue and her hair was long and red and wildly wavy. She had beautiful bee-stung lips and long eyelashes that fluttered when she talked.

"Then my question still applies," I insisted, the corner of my mouth turning up into a grin.

"There's not a lot of food in the supplies," the boy from two said in a deep, base voice, "and you're the best bet with sponsors."

"You are from District four," Celeste reminded me, "You belong with us."

I scoffed and picked up my pack, "It doesn't really seem I have a choice, does it?" They all shook their heads and I shrugged. I wasn't going to waste an opportunity to live if it presented itself to me.

"Fine."

"Good," Celeste whispered with a sly smile. Was she trying to seduce me? "Let's go hunting."

We moved through the jungle with weapons out, looking for victims. As we walked I realized I was bleeding from my chest through a long wound left by Brutus's spear. I wrapped the longer bandages around it and tried to look like I wasn't in pain. I was strong.

It didn't take long to find the boy from Twelve, trying to cook something in a leaf over a fire. When we emerged, his whole spirit shut down and all that was left was fear. The poor, pathetic kid didn't even try to run. Rye lingered back, a poisonous look in her eyes. Viper and District Two boy-Hector-grabbed the boy by the arms and held him up. I think his bicep was the size of Hector's wrist.

"Please," he begged pitifully, "Please don't."

His eyes met mine and a wave of guilt washed over me. But there was nothing I could do, was there?

Celeste suddenly was at my side and leaned in so she was whispering into my neck, giving me goosebumps; "You know how I get sponsors, Finnyboy?" she asked. I shook my head and tried to keep myself composed.

"I entertain them. And two can play at your game."

With that she walked backwards, away from me. Then she pulled off her shirt and for a second I think my mouth might have fallen open with surprise. Her undershirt was tight and much sexier than the gray number she was currently wadding up into a ball.

"What are you doing, Celeste?" Rye asked critically. She gave no answer, but rather shoved the wadded shirt into the captured boy's mouth so that his screams of protest were muffled into near silence. I was growing increasingly uncomfortable with what was going on. Hector and Viper were laughing, thoroughly seeming to enjoy the show.

"You see Finny," Celeste began, coyly pulling out a cruel looking knife, "the public wants a pretty body, but even more than that, they want blood. They want to see the cat play with its food. They want torment. And if you play the game, you get the bonus. Do you understand?"

I didn't say anything, but I felt sick. What was she going to do?

She turned to the boy and kissed him passionately on the mouth. He looked surprised, then scared, then almost relaxed. I mean, he was going to die anyway so I guess he decided to enjoy it. Then she sank the knife into his side.

But he didn't die, no, I wish he had. He was yelling but the shirt muffled the sound almost completely. I could just tell by the way the veins protruded from his neck and the redness in his face. Celeste held his face in her hands, looking at him patronizingly.

"Oh no, shhh," she whispered, looking deep into his eyes, "Shhh."

She brushed his hair away from his forehead, as if it mattered. He was looking at her in a combination of fear, pain, and hatred. Then she kissed him again, but the knife went in simultaneously with her lips. The boy winced, doubled over, and then the canon fire told us he was dead.

Viper and Hector let go of his arms and smiled viciously at the dead boy at their feet. What pleasure were they getting out of this that I wasn't seeing? I just wanted to vomit.

Not four seconds later, a silver parachute descended from the sky and into Celeste's hands. She opened it eagerly to find a box full of bread and cheese and an apple. She plucked out the apple and took a bite, licking the juice from her lips and shooting me a smoldering wink.

"That's how you get sponsors."

The rest of them split the bounty, but I didn't. I didn't want the bread they sent her. For all I knew it was made with blood in it.

We left so that the ship could collect the body and went searching for the other tributes. Then the Capitol's anthem played and the fallen tributes appeared in the sky. Twelve dead today.

"Both sets from Eight and Five are alive," Rye said in a business-like tone. I didn't like her, she made me uneasy.

"Can't we stop for now?" I asked, defeated, "Half of us are dead already, and it's not going to do anyone a favor by over-exhausting ourselves."

They looked at each other and shrugged, seeming to agree.

"Fine."

We made a camp in the middle of the forest, not bothering to be subtle. No one would dare attack us. I licked my dry lips and looked around to see if there was water anywhere. But no one had anything.

"Get us some water, Finnick," Celeste demanded, tossing her empty bottle aside in frustration.

"How am I to do that?"

Rye wrapped her arm around my head and held a knife up to my exposed jugular.

"Alright sponsors, you want him to live to see another day then you'd better send us some water. Or I'll carve his pretty little face up so no measure of surgery can fix it."

I really didn't think threatening the sponsors was the most tactful way to go about this, but for the sake of my life I hoped it would work. And it did, surprisingly enough. Three parachutes came sailing down on our camp with jugs of water that we divided up evenly and drank our fill.

"Thank you, Finny."

I wish they wouldn't call me that.

"It's time for bed, I'll be keeping first watch," Celeste announced, standing up. She came up behind me and slid off my belt with the knives and picks attached to it.

"You won't be needing this," she explained, giving me a knowing look. I sighed and curled up near the fire. Maybe I should be concerned about them killing me when my eyes were closed, but it appeared I was good for something. I was good for blackmail.

I also knew I had to get out