I own no one but my own people

A/N This is a one shot and my very first fic so be nice but honest.

I am running in a forest of Poison Oak. Leaves and twigs are tangled in my hair. I hear the shouts of my attackers. I try to jump over a ditch, fail and land in a mess of mud, I scramble to regain balance, and keep running. This can't go on forever, me running, I'm going to encounter someone else who wants me dead.

"Run up a tree you idiot! Hide!" I make note to kick myself if I live through this. As I quickly climb up a good-sized Oak, my hands scramble to hold the small "hand holds." I hear of the attackers shout to yeah other, one shouting about killing me later, a second about me not being worth it, to kill me in the final six. I then hear a third of a whinny protest, then talk of heading off the see about " Fire girl" and her ally. They stalk off with a last look off me.

I climb down slowly, to see if it helps my hammering heart in my chest slow. I walk with careful steps when I am back on the group. Just in case a knife blade in the mud, or something much more deadly.

I walk to my hiding place, a few dead hollowed out trees from only god knows what, standing side by side. I sigh a pitiful sigh when I look at my food stash. three dried strips of meat, a cracker and a few bites of rabbit that I stole off of someone's snare. I had a large supply once, why was I so stupid to eat so much so fast?

I sit on a log, my knife at my side. My eyes alert. Why should I win now? My mother is gone. My father is to scared to do anything with his pathetic life. Winning would be nice, but how good is fame and fortune when your district and is starving to death?

I feel a burning and think the Poison Oak is starting its affects. My ankle and Calf was red and swollen. I'm tired of fighting. Tired of being alert. Tired of feeling and being sick. Tired of feeling so helpless and small.

I think for a bit. About my past memories. About climbing my first tree at 4, for the fun of it, not for survival. About my mother, seeing her brush her long hair, and feeling a pang of jealousy. Seeing my dad at his best, not his worse, as I've been seeing for 12 long years ago. I smile, as I get up, hide my gear, and walk over to a batch of dark purple berries. I think about myself.

My name is Elizabeth Darrel. I am 16 years old. I had a mother. I have a father. My district is district 5. I was in the 74th Hunger Games.

I lift 5 berries to my mouth.

I live in a world where a capital rules me.

A sick world.

I smile as I shallow them whole.

Please Review. And again this is my very first fic EVER so be nice but honest. Thank you :-)