Okay guys, so I changed a lot of details for the purpose of writing this story so yes, I do realise that some things may not be correct from Suzanne Collins’ books. I mainly took the characters, setting and idea of the games. I hope you guys enjoy and just to clarify: I do not own the characters, apart from a select few, and the themes are derived from the book series The Hunger Games. Enjoy guys, and vote!

My name is Olivia Hanspark, I am twenty-two years old and I live in the Capitol city in Panem. I live with a woman named Margery who has taken care of me since my mother died ten years ago. To say that she cares for me is probably stretching it too far. She’s no mother to me, in fact she basically left me to my own devices and only spent time with me when she fed me or took me to buy new clothes. I spend a lot of time with her husband, him I like. He taught me how to throw; there was a game back when this was North America, called baseball. It involved   throwing a ball at someone on another team with a bat, and they had to hit it.

                I know, it sounds so primitive. He’s a teacher at the Capitol High School, history, if it wasn’t already obvious. He is obsessed with old world sports. I have no idea why. I can't really stand anything Margery tries to get me into, which is why Caledon uses me as a practical means to study. I would stay back with him and we would practice in the Capitol High School gym. Caledon also found the Hunger Games fascinating. Not for their content, but for the historical comparisons. There was a place called Ancient Rome, and they used to have similar games in an arena called the Colosseum. They would pit a man against some kind of animal in a fight to the death. Of course, Caledon believes that it was fixed so that the man would always win, just like the Hunger Games always had a victor, mostly with help from sponsors.

                I’ve been watching them for as long as I can remember. And this year is the 75th Hunger Games. The third Quarter-Quell. They announced the theme yesterday; tributes will be selected from the current pool of victors. For the victors of 1, 2 and 4 there will no doubt be volunteers. These are known as the ‘Careers’. They have the most surviving victors out of all the districts. The one with the lowest amount is 12, with only two, both of them male. Maybe they would select them both to be in the arena; maybe they would pick a girl at random from 12 like all the other years. Maybe a victor from another district will be chosen.

All I know is that tomorrow during the reapings I’ll be in the Capitol Square waiting to set my plan into action. I’ve been planning for a while now, and finally I have the chance to act. My only chance.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table in our Capitol apartment waiting for Margery to serve dinner. Caledon is sitting opposite to me. To anyone outside the Capitol they would be a strange looking couple. He wears mainly greens and purples and has a curly mop of ever-changing colours sitting on his head. His eyebrows are stretched into a straight line and his skin has an overly pink edge to it. She has a tight blonde up-do at all times. Even first thing in the morning I don’t see her with her hair down. She has an abundance of brightly coloured make-up, she wears it in accordance with her mood, her wardrobe is the same and it consists of wild patterns and lots of silvers and gold. I, on the other hand, stick out like an angry tracker-jacker at this dining room table. I have long wavy brown hair and I wear it half up half down. I have not cosmetically altered my face and the only make-up I ever wear is my shiny gold lipstick. I prefer to wear blacks and darker shades of green than anything too bright. In all honesty, I stand out in most Capitol crowds. Even in high school the students had their own unique sense of style.

Last year flames had been the highlight of everyone’s clothing collection after the winner of the Games made a name for himself from the fire on his parade costume. He and his tribute partner had been given a set of flaming costumes to flaunt as they captured the attention of the audience. It worked. Peeta Mellark is the first district 12 victor since the last Quarter-Quell, where Haymitch beat out forty-seven other tributes to win the games. For the 50th games each district was required to send double the amount of tributes.

They both used the same method to win, wit. Haymitch was a loner even back when he competed in the games, and he used it to his advantage. Peeta had tried to help his fellow tribute, Abigail Thornton, but she was two years younger than him at sixteen years old and looked as though she hadn’t eaten a full meal for weeks at the reaping. She survived the initial battle that claims lives at the beginning of the games, near the cornucopia, but only made it another two days.

“My dear girl! Will you never dress for dinner?” Margery sang as she placed our food on the table.

“I happen to like the way I dress and there is no company so why should I need to impress?” I retorted.

“Manners girl!” Margery was absolutely hung up on how you act, as if she had any chances to enter high class where it might actually be useful.

“Come now Marge, let her be.” Caledon smiled as he took a mouthful of his dinner.

Margery just tutted to herself and began to eat. I found it enjoyable to ruffle her feathers. After a few minutes of silent eating, Margery had forgotten about my rudeness.

“Are we all excited for the Quarter-Quell then?” She beamed at us.

“I dare say it will be a very eventful year.” Caledon looks up and catches my eye.

I shovel down my food quickly.

On the morning of the reapings I pulled on a pair of tight brown pants and a black singlet with my tall black boots. I tie up half of my hair and apply a thick layer of golden lipstick. I head down to the square in the morning with Caledon and Margery, and about a quarter of the Capitol residents who are all fussing over the games. The atmosphere is just buzzing with excitement. I can see the cameras watching the crowd as usual. They always put short clips from the audience into the footage from the reapings. I was counting on this.

Caesar’s face appeared on the screen and the people around me cheered.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome! To the 75th annual Quarter-Quell Hunger Games!” Cheers and hollering erupted around me. “Today we will view the reapings from every district and see which of our victors will once again become tributes! This is an auspicious occasion; so let us go to District 1 and see who our tributes will be!”

Slowly we travel through the districts. As I expected, the tributes are chosen and other victors volunteer in 1 and 2. One of the previous victors from 2, Cress, was one of the most vicious that the games have ever seen; he’ll be a tough competitor. The female tribute from 6 was holding onto three small crying children before an older woman named Janet volunteered. She was the victor of the games thirty years ago and she looks like she won’t be quite as nimble this time. By the time they got to 12, I could sense everyone in the crowd becoming more attentive as they wondered how the gamemakers would choose a female tribute.

The woman who always chooses the tributes, Effie Trinkett, put her hand into a full tribute bowl, all of us knowing that there were only two names in there. She finally chooses one and smiles sweetly, her pale green skin so out of place in a district like 12.

“Peeta Mellark!”

Peeta doesn’t hesitate; he begins to walk up to the stage, a grimace painted on his face. As he reaches the last step he spins around as Haymitch’s voice rings through the crowd. “I volunteer.”

“No!” Peeta looks down at Haymitch angrily.

“Step down, kid, you may be nineteen now but I’ve got less to live for.” He put his hand on Peeta’s shoulder and took his place on stage.

We watched as Peeta struggled but soon shook the peacekeepers off and stood looking up at the stage just like the rest of the people from district 12. Maybe he realised that he would be Haymitch’s mentor for these games.

For a brief moment we saw Caesar’s face appear on the screens behind Effie and Haymitch and then he flashed onto our entire screen.

“Seeing as there is no female victor in 12, I have been told to ask you all for a volunteer, from anywhere.”

Images flashed from the silent districts. The crowds looked at each other with closed mouths and we watched as the same scene unfolded from district 12 all the way back to 1. Then we saw a picture of our crowd, the Capitol crowd.

“How about you, will you volunteer for the games?” Caesar laughed as he addressed the Capitol.

The people around me laughed and I counted to three.

One… “Is there anyone willing to volunteer?” More pictures of the districts.

Two… “Anyone at all?” More laughter from the people around me.

Three… “Does no one want the honour of representing their district?” Now.

“I volunteer!”

The crowd around me goes quiet as they search for the voice. Caesar looks confused, and then I see my face on the screens, my golden lipstick glimmering in the sunlight.

“I volunteer as tribute for the Capitol of Panem!” I yell loudly and stare in the direction of one of the cameras.

Caesar’s mouth hangs open and they flash the stunned faces from all over Panem onto the screen.

“Olivia!” Margery’s voice rang out. “Olivia what are you doing!”

“I want to show you and everyone in Panem what the Capitol is really capable of. Let me be the 24th tribute in the 75th Hunger Games!”

Two peacekeepers come in and take me by the arm and onto the stage of the amphitheatre where a games official is waiting with a microphone.

“State your name.” she said.

“Olivia Hanspark.”

“Let me present, Olivia Hanspark of the Capitol, tribute for the Quarter-Quell Hunger Games!”

As they ushered me off the stage, I felt the rush of excitement at what was yet to come.