This is my first fanfic, so no being jerks. If the name Ivo Wright is familiar to you, then you are right. I actually submitted him as a mentor for another story but then I really wanted to write his Games myself. In the story I submitted him as a mentor, he is the mentor of District 1 and uses swords instead of axes but I originally submitted as the mentor for District 7.

I remember in extreme detail the Games I was force to play. Along with 23 other children, I was forced to participate in a cruel mockery of punishment that our beloved Capitol invented. I was only twelve years old and I was turned to a mere child, to a murderer.

I kid you not, I remember all the tributes that lost their lives at my hands, I remember their names, their faces, and during my Victor Tour, the faces of their families.

I am Ivo Wright of District 7 and I was the Victor of the 16th Hunger Games, and this is my story.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

As the night quickly fades as the morning comes forth, I turn over to avoid the light as it comes crashing into my darkened room. As if fated, my battle with the morning is lost and I force myself up straight. My face falls as I look at the empty room before me and remember how alive it once was.

I was not always an only child, the status fell upon me as I watched my brother, Kylemore, die a horrible death at only 15. I was only ten then, I didn't understand why my brother had to die so early, he was only in the strange aquatic arena for only a few short minutes. He was fighting with another kid, one much older than him, for a sharp looking object and then the same object that they were fighting over killed him. It wasn't until a month later that I found out he was a victim of the Hunger Games, another dead tribute of the 14th Hunger Games.

We used to be close, my brother and I, we would climb the trees of our District and, no matter what, and he was always 'cool enough' to play with his little brother. And despite his shortened life, I never regretted a moment with him.

I stretched as I got off my old mattress, and drowsily made my way to my father's room. I stood in front of his door and knocked to see if he was awake yet, and to my surprise he came out of his room with a small smile on his weathered face. He looked at me and said in a cheerful, deep voice, "Good morning, son, isn't the weather promising a good day?"

I didn't answer him but instead I just looked at him with a dumbfounded expression on my face. He noticed my expression and then laughed good naturedly, "I'm sorry, Ivo, I sometimes forget that you cannot answer me."

He was right, I couldn't answer him. It was a lumbering accident that took away my ability to speak, a misunderstanding that led to an axe in the throat. I was told constantly that I was lucky to be alive, and then again, I am truly fortunate that that axe didn't go through my neck. If I died then, then I would have never of met Mahogany.

Mahogany Lavonn, my girlfriend, and I are both twelve and we are in love, and I don't care about what everyone says. After my accident, I thought that no girl in my District would ever want to marry a boy that couldn't talk. From what I gathered, girls loved it when they were told that they look nice and they loved to be complimented. Unlike the other girls in District Seven, Mahogany is nice and she always seems to know exactly what I wish I could say.

"Don't be falling asleep on my now, son," my father's voice cut into my train of thought. "We have to be alert when at work, don't want to loose any fingers, now do we?"

I smiled at my dad's strange joke, he was referring to himself and how he only has three fingers on one hand. He told me that it was because I got distracted by a pretty woman walking near the timber yard.

I walked with my father to eat a quick breakfast and to pack our lunches; it was nothing major, just a simple dish that Mahogany and her mother made for us, rice with a strange yet delicious topping and some bread that Mahogany made herself. And the bread was the best I have ever eaten in my life.

"Get ready for work today, Ivo, and don't take too long. If we finish our quota for the day early, we might swing by your girl's place and thank them for the food." My father told me as we walked back to our rooms. It wasn't everyday that my dad gave me an excuse to see Mahogany.

As I came out of my room in my worn-out work clothes, my father was already waiting by the door with our axes. We headed out the door onto the Timber Yard to start cutting the trees.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

I came home in a better mood than when I left. When me and my father went to Mahogany's home, we went off to the forest that outlined her home, hand-in-hand, while our parents were talking to each other. There I stole a kiss from her, and just thinking about it warmed my inner core. The best part was that she smiled her oh-so beautiful smile at me when I pulled away from her. Life was good.

I went straight to my room, I couldn't try to eat in fear of the butterflies in my stomach would make the food that me and my father work hard to get come up again.

That night I fell asleep and all I could see was the dazzling smile of my Mahogany.

What do you think? Good or bad? No matter what you think, your opinion actually matters a lot.