The night games. Guess how many go in, and how many go out? It goes from twenty four to one in a matter of days. Twenty three lives lost.

Every elf with an ability is eligible. From nine to nine thousand. If you're older than that, then you are safe.

Safe from the nightmare in the arena.

Safe from certain death.

But not safe from the captivating screens. The action. If you want to know what's happening you have to watch it.

You have to watch innocent elves die.

You have to watch how the Neverseen keep everyone in line.

Today is the drawing. We find out who dies. There are twelve districts, one boy and one girl from each. Even if they are father and daughter, they still have to fight to the death.

What if they are star-crossed lovers? They still fight. They still die.

It used to be that only fighting abilities were allowed in the arena. But then the Neverseen got bored. Bored of the same abilities.

So now, even if your ability is telepathy, you fight. I suppose having underdogs makes the games more enjoyable—for those watching.

I'm from district twelve.

The misfit district.

The powerless district.

The unwanted disease.

No one wants us on their side, so we are allyless. If another war were to happen we would be left for the dogs. We are the least powerful district.

Sometimes I get the feeling that we are only here so that district eleven doesn't have to be ridiculed.

Wealth isn't the problem. My family may well have the biggest house in the districts. The problem is power. When a child is born, the family must find out its power, and no matter how powerful the parents are/are not, they must move with the child.

So what is my ability? And how did it land me and my family in the misfit district? Actually, I can teleport, read minds, enhance others, speak every known language, and control the water. I should be in the Capitol, right?

Probably.

But I don't want to be one of them. One of the cruel ones. One of the runners of the games.

So I hide. I pretend that I am only a hydrokinetic—which, technically, should still get me into the capitol.

But I broke a few laws and got myself sentenced here.

Most of my district doesn't know how to fight. And I shouldn't either. But I have to. Somehow—I don't know how—the Neverseen found out about me.

And each week, a highly trained professional nobody comes after me.

Each week I fight them off.