Introduction:

This story is dedicated to my friends, especially Adrik, because without him, I wouldn't have the idea for this story in the first place. I had a challenge on tumblr based off one of my favorite games, and one of the challenges was a hard question. I wrote it in story form to make it easier for myself. It mostly consisted of my friends killing each other in a haunted abandoned school. Adrik read the story and suggested I write a Hunger Games story, with us as the characters. I thought it was a great idea, and so it became a real project for me. Also, special thanks to Allison for editing.

It's up to you to figure out which ones are based off of real people, and which ones aren't. Check out my tumblr, .com to see drawings of the tributes.

Anyway, without further ado, let the annual 33rd Hunger Games begin!

Chapter 1:

I blink my eyes open. I wake up, and for a moment, I forget where I am, or who I am. It is funny, when you are so tired, it messes with your brain, and you don't even have the energy to identify yourself.

Now I remember. I am Variel Castellan, aged 17, and today I am supposed to volunteer for the 33rd Hunger Games. My parents said so. I'm supposed to win, they said, and bring District 4 the glory and honor we deserve. It's easy for them to say. They never participated in the Hunger Games. They're not the ones who are going to be thrown into a ring with other kids to kill each other.

Where I'm from, some kids train from birth solely for the purpose of participating in the Hunger Games. It's technically not allowed, but my district's specialty is seafood, and the gaudy people of the Capitol love the seafood we give them, therefore, we're favorites. Sneaky, but hey.

I get up out of my bed and walk towards my dresser. I look in the mirror and rub my face.

My reddish-brown hair is messy, and my light brown eyes are puffy. It's obvious I didn't get any sleep last night. Last night, I had a huge fight with my parents about volunteering, but they didn't want to hear it.

I don't want my parents to come in and get me ready, so I quickly do it myself, applying my own makeup, doing my own hair, and picking my own dress. I look in the mirror and think to myself, "Do I look like a person who looks like a winner?"

I guess I do. I really don't know. Boys say I look "hot", and my mother says I should put on more makeup. I stopped caring about what they would say a long time ago, because all the people that talk to me about my looks aren't really on my trusted list anyway.

I hear the door knock. It's my father.

"Variel, are you ready for the big day?"

Oh... Shut up.

"Yes," I say out loud. Sometimes I wish THEIR names would be in those big glass bowls our escort, Demitri Azren, pulls names out of.

"Well, hurry! The reapings start in an hour, and we wouldn't want to be late for your big day!" I hear him say through the door.

Big day is right. I'm going to voluntarily sign myself up to kill other kids my age I haven't even met. I look at my dresser and a new thought pops into my head.

What would a Capitol kid be doing right now? They don't have to worry about being reaped. Heck, they're WATCHING us get reaped. Are they dying their hair orange? Perhaps applying false neon pink feather eyelashes? I wonder if they enjoy it. Who teaches them to enjoy this annual horror? I wonder if some of them secretly hate it, but their parents insist to have enthusiasm. Maybe I'll never know.

I walk outside of my bedroom and to my dining room, where my mother and father are.

My mother is choking back fake tears and is putting her hand on her chest as she exclaims, "Oh, I'm so excited! My daughter is going to win the Hunger Games!"

"You don't know that, mom." I sigh.

"Now now, no negative thoughts in this house." Dad scolds.

I decide to shut up now. No point in giving them an attitude anymore. Nothing I say will change today. All the training I did with knives and spears has led up to today. I can't kill my parents either. I'm not that kind of person! Besides, where would that leave me?

"It's time to be heading over to the Town Square now. We must get you registered." Dad says.

I scowl, but finally, in a whisper, I reply, "Okay."

I know I keep talking about it, but today was going to be a LONG day.

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