Morphling, Motors and Mayhem.

Author: Howlynn
Realm: The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins
Story Title: Morphling, Motors and Mayhem
Summary: This is a prompt on the DWCA board for original characters and story from assigned district.
Character/Relationships: Bucky, Witch, Flat-dirt and an Evil Snake in many forms.

I Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Our hovercraft, our high-speed trains, and our cargo trains come to us from District 6. Ironically, the citizens here have little love for travel."

―Description from The Hunger Games: Tribute Guide[src]

District 6 is one of the 12 districts of Panem. Though never mentioned in the books, according to the official movie promotional page "", this district's principal industry is transportation. It was heavily bombed by the Capitol's Air Forces during the Second Rebellion. District 6 is also known to be very unstable, and could be several times larger than even Districts 11 or 2. Some of the citizens in District 6 are morphling addicts.

I was supposed to be in seventh, but the damned thing slipped on me and I had the maximum amount of pressure my fourteen-year-old arms could apply to a persnickety transmission, but she were picking up a right frightful speed. I glanced at my little brother as he suddenly became aware that the grindin were goin on a might too long and the crate he were sittin upon was getting air as the heavy rocks in the dump pushed us faster.

I tried quick for eight, but I knew I were fooling and nine was better than Georgia. That be short for Georgia-over-drive which meant neutral. Missed nine and then I was shaking. Ain't been done in ten with a full bucket of rocks on the Cat's Paw.

Ain't been done.

I tried to break and the bellows of smoke coming from the sides told me I had crystals from my last run and it was tenth gear or we'd be jumpin. Well my brother could jump, I kill Daddy's wheels and I better just fly to the bottom with em. The Kenwart were worth more than a no-count-bow-legged-smart-mouth-buck-toothed girl who could barely reach the pedals. Daddy told me that afore each trip.

Now I wasn't supposed to be driving, but I had been for might been two year. My other brother that I could stand, who is probably got a real good cuss on about now, had been driving since before he could get reaped. Yep we was pulling away from Little Jam and I could see his face in the rearview as he were yellin at me to split it down to nine and a half, but I knew it barely slipped into ten and it ain't no bother now. I'm too busy trying to wrangle her down and I close my eyes and pray as I flip the c-break that it will, just this one time, give me a break.

"Bucky, we going too fast? We got to go slower."

"I know that Flat-Dirt, it slipped on me and I couldn't catch til ten. Now shut up and sweet-talk this damned C-break and see if anything hears you're rambling." I say pounding on the dash now hoping to jumpstart the stupid thing. Sure enough I hear it choke three times and growl to life.

"Daddy says it can't be done in ten. Are you crazy?"

"Is that a question? Ninty-seven thousand pounds of rocks and I can't push the clutch in all the way. 25 mile, 8% downgrade, five switchbacks and a dork yacking in my ear. What do you think?"

"Bucky, are we gonna die?"

I grin at him as if I am having fun, "Maybe, be a heck of a lot more fun than the reaping. I tell you to jump, you mind."

"What about you?" he asks not exactly buying the smile.

"Huh. Daddy pissed about the crunched up Wart, Reaping in two weeks or Captain going down with the ship. Same outcome my dear Dirt-boy. So let's just see. May the odds be evaaaaa in my favaaaah." I say with a rakish wink and that tilt of my head I only save for Flat-Dirt.

He can't help but giggle. I am good at that silly Capitol accent. He looks out the window watching the road go by then sighs and relaxes. "That's ok. We'll be fine."

I can't afford to actually take my eyes off the road with the first switchback coming up. I see it in my mind and grip the steering wheel a bit tighter. "What makes you say that?"

"You're Bucky and you always prove Daddy wrong. Can't be done in tenth, well that just means you gotta try it. Bet you got your own rig by the time you get out of the ball. Bet you're gonna be rich someday Buckline. Richer than him." He says the last part as if he's speaking blasphemy, which of course he is. We don't talk about Daddy's money. People who conjecture on our Father, have terrible accidents. We are down two half-brothers who seemed a might bit too interested in what Big Jam Hellerbach had horded away like a treasure greedy pirate.

"Yeah, well. That's real nice thinking, Hamilforth, but guess we'll have to see." I say using his real name beings he used mine. Everybody here in Six has two names. "Hang on, snake-tale coming up."

I pull wide then cut off the loop, it skids just a bit but I do a break check as we hit the narrow and somehow it grips. I let out my breath.

Flat-Dirt beams at me and for just a second, I know we will be fine. He makes me feel like I can do anything. It took another thirty minutes and a whole lot of girl- sweating and one time, on the Candy-Stripe I was almost in tears, but the Wart was being good and the C-Break blew black smoke out the duel stacks all the way down.

Flat-Dirt is squirming and giggling like a barmy loon by the time I pull into the junkyard. I am still shaking as I park, grumbling as I back the trailer in the slot, beings I hate blindsiding, but the good parking and pull through slots are taken. So, I have to just grit my teeth, move my butt to the very edge and stretch on the clutch, and let Flat-Dirt warn me if the trailer tries to cut too sharp. I finally get it pointed and walked into place, so I can let the cab follow and grin with pride at how I only needed one pull up.

I kill the Wart and sigh in pure relief. I glance in the rearview at the last switch, just in time to glimpse my brother's trailer come around in perfect control as if he's just showing off how a real driver ought to come down the mountain.

His Freight-Star growls of his perfectly controlled descent and not a rock tumbles from his trailer as he woops it up to eight for the long straight away. I know I probably made him sweat terror all the way down and that after he gets done whinging at me, his eyes will well over with tears as he storms away. He knows. He probably imagined the terrible skid marks that would mark the spot we ate the black dog all the way down and a twinge of guilt hits me for putting him in such a waller of mawkishness. I hope he keeps his mouth to himself, but I have a feeling the damage is done.

He didn't mean to. He won't get on me to bad, but I have seen his tears before. He knows. I hate that he does. He won't do a damned thing about it, couldn't if he wanted to, but he knows. So, I can only take so much of him. That look he gets, of pity and disgust, touches my heart so deep I can only survive it by acting like he is pissing me off. Little Jam and Flat-Dirt are the only two members of my family that mean anything to me. Someday, I will show it better. Not today though.

I knew from Daddy's walk I were in trouble. "Get outa here Dirt. Now," I order, without moving my lips much.

I wasn't running from Daddy any more. I took off my gloves and waited for him, a sicky feeling in my chest, "Now Daddy, It weren't on purpose. I told you seventh would pop out of gear, I only let go for a…" The slap echoed off the walls of the Rockhouse. I didn't fall down. I didn't cry.

Head still turned and voice too deep for a girl, I meet his eyes, pretending like my face isn't beginning to glow with his handprint and shame as I ask, "You wanna hit me again, Daddy? For saving your rig and your son?" He comes round for my other cheek with a back-hand curled into a wad of fist. I squint up my face as I see it out of the corner of my eye, but that one knocks one of my ugly buck teeth through my lip.

"You no-count-bow-legged-smart-mouth-buck-toothed girl who barely stomps the pedals, I'll beat you to death afore you'll drive one of my rigs again," he screams as his fist contacts my eye and this time I do go down, the chat is wet and soaks white clay gunk into my clothes. Great now I'll get it from momma on account of my ruined man rags.

I spit a bit of blood on the ground, brilliant red against the wet grey-white earthen parking lot. I laugh and glare at him. "You're welcome, Daddy. Think she can make it in eleven?" I know. I know I have gone too far, but his boot cocking back tells me this one is going to be bad. I tense up my middle and curl a bit, hoping for the best, but Daddy and me been known for our correction shows since I bit knees, so this ain't no new vision for the yard birds. A set of footfalls heading at us surprises me enough to uncrimp one eye and take in who might dare to interpose on Daddy's parenting time.

"Excuse me Big Jam. I don't mean to be spoiling you and Bucky's fun, but you got pretty near two hundred coins waiting on you in the lounge. She got to confirm she did the Cat's Paw in tenth but young Flat-Dirt done come in Bug-eyed and Bull-frogging about what she done. Yewins ought to save you's horse-dogging for the party."

I look up into the eyes of my savior. If he'd shown up fifteen minutes later I might not have had a tooth in my head to smile at him about. As is he pulls off his gloves and offers me a hand, I give him a look of confused annoyance. I let him pull me up and I grin and then change it to a smile, to cover my teeth.

Daddy smiles at him as if his steppin-in were no kind of mistake at all and he gives him a friendly shoulder punch as if I be all forgot about. The boy gives Daddy a big thumb up and Daddy just shakes his head with a sheepish pleasure and mumbles, "Best see to that, I imbue."

The young man looks down at me, his eyes looking me up and down as if I don't have on man's trousers and a lumpy trucker vest now grubby with chalky grey mud covering my girlie bits in absurdity. "You're just a little-bit, are you? Right pleased to walk you in ma'am." He says with a pull on his cap.

Daddy laughs, and his face says a lot more fun than his eyes say mean, but I ain't fooled by Daddy's friendly. "Good lord Witch-Switch don't drool on the girl. She just be one loud-mouth, no-account, worthless as tick-spit …." Daddy brushes past him still praising my charms.

"I love you too, you flat-ass- bad tempered son of a cockle spur." I say defiantly. He glares back at me then looks over at Witch like he thinks it's funny.

"You better be careful, Bucky girl. Driving aren't your only use, even ugly as you is."

"Bastard." I hear Witch whisper.

"Don't worry about it. Just Big Jam. I don't know why momma puts up with him. Ugly as snake-ass and meaner than the front." I say, not quite loud enough for Daddy to pick up, but not quite quiet enough to be sure I didn't have a little Daddy humor to be spent in the shed for principle. I just hoped the worst of it would be gone by the reaping. I would hate to look scrappy if my name is called.

Folks knew about what Big Jam did to his girl-child out in the shed. But my Daddy were too respected to be called out to bone about, even if he were a might in the rough with me. I didn't tattle cause ain't no good come from laundry on the line for the wrong he hands me against all the good he really is. The boys, he treats better than any. We got it pretty good in all. We may not be capitol rich, mind you, but we ain't starving on factory pay and sucking government tesserae either. Daddy is basically outlaw in technical fact, but he got here by making himself useful to the wants of the government wheels.

Daddy fills in gaps of what could make District 6 fall apart. For instance, when a hover craft crashes, it has to be replaced, and district six is supposed to figure out how to come up with another one. That was fine until about thirty years back, when it became a fact that the supply we had of pre-rebellion hover-craft hulks had already been scavenged down to nothing. They tried to build them from scratch and succeeded but it took near two years to build one and the cost was draining. They knew that just four hundred miles away was a whole ten mile stretch of old relics that could be brought back to life. The problem was, nobody could get them to the mechanics and engineers. So Daddy and six other fellows basically escaped for a look-see into the problem.

They all about got hung for their trouble, but Daddy figured out a way to move them on old diesel trucks in six pieces and within two years, he'd proved that it could be done. He had taken off with about seventy men and they had opened a cement trail. Well, the capitol was so happy that they gave him a pardon for his escape and from that time on, Daddy has been the most important, unimportant man around.

We are hauling rocks to grade a road off to who knows where right now and even though we should all be arrested for stepping out of the borders imposed by the peacekeepers, and arrested for being in possession of illegal mechanical conveyance, so long as we stay discreet and keep our noses out of the Capitol's hair, we get left alone mostly.

Of course, Daddy runs a small empire now. He has for years, but he stays under the radar with his skinflint ways and the loyal troop of needy souls he's taken under his wing. Daddy acts like every coin is parted with as if it is an old friend, and he's as secret about his financial entanglements as a coyote is with its pups, but we ain't never went hungry like some. If anyone were looking real close, it might be questioned how come a man who don't do any legal thing can manage to feed his 18 legal begets and them that Momma don't know about too. But Daddy is Daddy, and I got issues with him about his doings parent wise, but I got eyes too. Daddy and me got some hairs crossed and I will kill the bastard some day for all he's put on me, but, once he's gone, I will be him.

By the standards of our District, Daddy is practically kingly. He don't look it, but he's got a thumb in the rib of all them that matter. Nothing much gets done on the side without Big Jam stirring the pot. He ain't government approved, but without him and our kin getting the old junkers back to work, there wouldn't be any Hovercraft Refit Works or Bullet Train Repair. Daddy ain't no capitol man but he ain't no capitol slave neither. He plans on his boys one day dividing the bits of his empire. He thinks they will bow to his instructions and gratefully lap the tidbits he is using to tame his darling male offspring.

I have known for years where the money is and how much is there. I have my own pirate horde he will never find or even catch missing. Someday, I will pay him back for every second he has spent learning me his lessons out in the privacy of the shed. I don't think he knows just how well he's taught me. Actually, I be knowing for a fact he would disappear any child, boy or girl, who he discovered shared so many of his less swaggered and boasted about compulsions. I know that I am my father's daughter, but I will not suffer his wrath by showing him my cards.

No, one day, Daddy will be my student, but until that time, letting him believe he has my affectionate fear, serves to cement his weaknesses. One day, I will repay him. He will never see the real me until his fate is well burnished with his own skill. Our time in the shed will come to an end and his kingdom will fall to the mirror he built. He has no idea what a lucky day it would be for him, if Miss Messerheart, that lovely and hideous Capitol snob, just happens to say the name Buckline Hellerbach at a District 6 reaping.

The young man studies me carefully as if I amuse him. "Well, ya know, Bucky, you do bring out the best in him. Maybe if you danced around a bit, the snake could be charmed, instead of poked into a strike? You just seem to be daring him to coil up and let you have it. Snakes attack when threatened."

My smile falls away and I may be short, but I can still look down my nose at him and put him in his place. "Then you are misinformed. Exhibiting a cowards back to a snake will make them to assume you wish to be eaten alive. A bite is survivable most of the time. Head first down the gullet rarely chokes the snake."

He grins. "So avoiding the danger makes you a coward? It is always better to be confrontational and bitten? I hope you get past that idea before you run a Capitol snake up a tree."

"Trust me, I'd take my chances with a Capitol snake any day over that one right there. Besides, you didn't avoid him at all. You don't follow your own advice." I raise one eyebrow asking for him to explain that fact.

He looks at my father's back, squinting slightly, then his attention returns to me. "I always charmed them. Don't get bit, just send them off to stalk other prey."

I snicker at that a little, "Yeah. Thanks by the way. Why'd you do that anyway?"

He blushes and shoves his hands in his pocket. "Cause, you were about to be snake shit. Didn't figure there'd be much left to ask out if he didn't get distracted soon."

I opened my mouth to say something witty, but his words sunk in and I just stood there, processing what he just said. "Who's gonna asking me out?" I finally demand like that is the most retarded thing I have heard all day.

"I was still kind of making up my mind when he began knuckle busting. You weigh half what he does, so I didn't figure I should keep ruminating while he ruined the option."

My face burned in pure humiliation. I was afraid he was just making fun of me, after all I am not girlfriend material. I cleared my throat. "So, what did you decide."

"I decided that I would be stupid not to."

I tried to read him to see if he was just trying to set me up. "Well good. Let me know how it works out." I say with a little laugh and head toward the building.

I spin once and he is looking at me with the most adorable look of confusion. He reminds me of a curly headed otter who just discovered his lake was not where he left it. I opened the door to the drivers lounge and disappeared into the noise and cheers. I tried to think of his Real name. He knew mine and my brothers, but I had honestly never noticed him before. Daddy called him Witch-Switch, but it meant nothing to me.

There was a lot of beer to celebrate that Daddy stole my whole purse, to keep it safe for me. I knew he was play acting pride, like he done it or taught me how and I also knew I'd never see a single coin of the enormous pool money, but I knew he wasn't done with me either. Daddy would put me to ease with his smiles and drag me to the shed when we got home. He was always a wily drunk and I'd be lucky I could walk by morning.

Daddy was always sweet and forgiving the next morning. I bought that act once. The stupid thing was, he really wasn't mad at me. He really was proud of me right this minute. Being mad at me was just his way to get me to the shed. I stood there drinking beer I would regret later and watching Daddy while the boy named Witch watched me. I thought of his words. Charm the snake.

Drinking usually muddled me a little, but this night, there was such adrenaline that it seemed to focus my mind. I made eyes at Witch. He finally came over and leaned into my ear, "Did you make up your mind?"

"About?"

"Whether or not you will go out with me?"

"My mind resolved." I respond.

"And?" he smiles at me in anticipation.

"And what?" I say innocent confusion smeared all over my face like lipstick on Finnick Odair.

He steps back just a bit. "Why won't you answer?"

"Don't answer nothing that ain't been ask. Kinda gets me in ta trouble." I pretend to see someone who needs waving at.

"But. Oh." He laughs at himself a little eye-roll and then a chuckle.

"Why Mizzzzz Buckline, I was just pondering upon who I'd wish to be taking to the Reaping Ball, when a pure inspired trickle of moonlight fell to pointing right at you and being a man of signs and ciphers I must beg your kindness in accepting my small hope that you would deem to settle upon this poor soul the evidence of your pity, and grace me with the honor of your company."

My eyes narrow. "I knew you were just funning me. It'd serve you proper if I went right over there and ask Daddy about getting permission. Front of all these gossips, you'd be stuck with me then, wouldn't you."

He seems surprised at my anger, then simply grabs my hand and drags me toward Daddy, even though I try to tug out of his grasp without making it a whole scene. He struts right up to Daddy and without so much as a howdy-do says, "Big Jam, I have been informed by your girl here that she will be needing permission from you, to be steppin to the Reaping Ball with me. So I am wanting to ask for that honor right here, before our mates, so as to not infringe no reputation of ill repute upon the proceedings. I respectfully ask that you allow me the honor of taking Miss Buckline to the said dance as my formal date."

Daddy turns as if he's just had a spit wad fired at his neck and I shiver in fear for this poor stupid boy about to be laid out like bear steak on a bar-b-que. Daddy sees the terror in my face and to my absolute shock he tosses his head far back and howls like a haunt on the hallows. "And how much have you been drinking, young Witch, my lad? "

"Quite a bit, Sir." He admits as everyone in the room joins in laughter and whistles.

I am mortified to all get out and peer at the hooligans who have picked this moment to pat me on the back and make kissing noises at me. Daddy smirks. He then sticks his fingers in his mouth to form an earsplitting call to order. My eyes drop to the floor as everyone goes silent.

"Well. I guess beings you ask so nice and proper, that her Ma and I can hose her off a bit, but if you put that kinda trouble on us and don't show, I want you to know that I will find you and proceed to remove your delicates and nail them to my front door. And if you knock her up, consider it a final sale. Are we clear? Boy? Because, you could do far better without a bit of doubt, but drunk and stupid now, ain't no call to beg off later." Daddy says to the renewed mirth of all assembled.

"I agree to your terms and further request that I be allowed to see her home." Witch responds without so much as a twitch.

"Your funeral laddy-o. She be part hell-cat and part Grizzly and any shenanigans will be your bad luck. I plea you reconsider, but wish you well in your adventure. And Bucky-girl? Try not to bite him beyond recovery."

Oh, Daddy being funny is not good. I am feeling sick. But, Witch doesn't know Daddy and he bows and with his grip on my hand still firm, he tips his hat at the crowd and grins before saying. "Gentle people, with my fate sealed, I bid you all fair weather and full tanks!" He drags me and I don't even know who I bump as we make our way out to the parking lot and the cool evening air.

He spins on me and with a huge smile of glee asks, "How were that then?"

"I. I don't even know…" his lips are on me and his joke has become plainly not a joke but something else entirely.

"I hope that be a Yes, pretty Bucky."

"Wait. You think I'm pretty?"

"You could be, if you wanted. But that might mean not getting split lips and black eyes so I won't get my bloody hopes to high. For now I will have to settle for cute, which works for me."

"I ain't pretty. I thought you were being mean to me. But that…and this…I don't understand?"

"Silly Bucky. You are smart. Smarter than me even, and your so damned brave. They said you were coming down hot, and we could hear Little Jam. You were going to die before by eyes, and my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it. I have been watching you for weeks, scared of a million reasons not to ask or show you. I swore if you just made it, even if you were, well injured, if you just survived, I would not waste my time with watching any longer. You came down that mountain today, like a victor, just as magnificent as any soul returned from the clutches of death. And when you got here, I saw you send your brother off, and face the snake."

"Well, that don't make me pretty."

" My god, you're fourteen and have lived more in one day than most people do their whole lives. So yes, you're beautiful. Your teeth are trying so hard to be seen, they have to lean out past that hard set determined mouth a bit. Your hair's a bloody nightmare of curls because your heart is always in the wind. You have black eyes more often than you don't, because you won't be contained by all the wrongs. You're more muscle than curve because you have the spirit of a full grown man, not a simpering giggling little girl. Buckline, you are beautiful. Can't you see the truth of that in my eyes?"

I stared at him, and I could see his heart in there so full and it broke mine. "You wouldn't think that if you knew me. You'd hate me. If you really, really knew me."

"I don't believe that. I don't. Maybe I know more than you think. Maybe, if I tell you, it doesn't matter, that I am too far gone to let things you think aren't fittin change what I want, you will believe me. Of course you may just decide that I'm not worth your time. But I want to try, no matter what."

I looked up at him, frustrated. I knew that he thought he was saying one thing, but the meaning behind it, there was no way he could know. There was no way he could overlook the truth. He didn't understand at all and I knew it. But at the same time, nobody I ever knew looked at me like this. Like I was somebody special. Flat-Dirt loved me like a hero. Little Jam loved me like a big brother who feared every day that this would be the one in which he fails and Daddy or an accident or my mouth would get me killed. Momma loves me as the only girl, but she wouldn't if she really paid attention.

So, letting him look at me like I mattered was wrong. But, in two weeks, there was a dance and then there would be another reaping. Of course it crossed my mind that it could be me, or him. I mean, probably not, but at the same time, his lips were undemanding and his touch so soft, like sheets on a clothesline in the breeze. I had never had that. What if I died, today and had never been kissed like that. What if I died in two weeks? What would I want to remember? Would my last breath be filled with… No.

"I don't even know your real name."

He took a deep breath, as if he was in pure relief. "That be one thing I can solve." His lips met mine again and I knew that I was the most horrible person in the world, but I was lost.

Daddy was waiting, when we got home. The shed light was on. If I snuck in, he'd just drag me out. I watched my Sanderwich Magee stroll up the road, then I turned and headed out back to pay for my crimes.

Charm the snake.

"Hi Daddy?" I say sweetly.

His eyebrows rose, surprised I would step into his clutches without a battle. "You know what you got coming? Surprising you makein it so easy."

I nod and take a step forward. "Daddy, is it always …like us? I mean is it always, battle and power?"

"What did that damned boy do? Did you let him at you?" he stood aggressively and I shook my head.

"Daddy, no. He kissed me. I don't care about that, but if I see him again, then, we have to do things another way. The bruises and, if he were to see. Daddy, I'm older, people might… So what I want to know is, what if I didn't fight you. Is it that you have to hurt me?"

His eyes narrowed. "I don't mind it. But you aren't a good girl. You got too much of me in you. So I do what I have to."

I nod. "So if I didn't fight you?"

He laughs one sarcastic snort sound. "The boy got you all charged up didn't he? Well, well, well. Imagine that. Maybe we can come to some understanding. If you want to be my good girl, I think we could maybe … of course, you do understand, I would require more frequency."

Oh god I hate you. I smile a little and shyly look up at him. "But no marks."

"I didn't say that, just nothing like that shiner you got today. I can't give up all my fun, Bucky."

"Ok, but just til the reaping dance. We could try it, see if. Daddy I want to wear a dress. I can't if … and I am not stupid enough to think you will stop. So I am saying that beings it is going to happen, that …'

"You will willingly do anything I tell you. All this, is so you can pretend to be normal with the boy? Is that what you are sliding past me? You are thinking about him? That do change things up a bit."

"You will hurt him if he touches me won't you."

"Nope. But you belong to me. If he uses my rig, he pays the rent. But you won't want him to know that. So the only answer is for you to pay so he won't know. But your my little girly and you got no money, so I could trade some small requests and we all come out ahead. I don't mind the boy at all Bucky girl. In fact, I demand you get the tike charged up and carried away as soon as possible. This is a whole new world. Now, show me how well you will be behaving…"

I charmed the snake and it didn't take near as much of my soul as I expected. The price was worth it.

The day of the reaping was like looking down the Cat's paw in eleventh gear. Ladies first and it wasn't me, but all my brothers still in the ball plus one. The engine revved and the parking break hisses.

" Hamilforth Hellerbach? "

Silence. I glared at my brothers. Flat-Dirt is just barely eligible. I am stamping my foot in anger at the silent older boys. My breath is getting faster and faster and I am frantic. Oh the cowards will pay. You pampered little …

Finally a voice says, "I volunteer." I bend forward in relief. But who?

Oh no. No. No. No

He winks at me and smiles. "I love you, my beautiful Buckline."

Daddy died before the Witch came home. There was a generous sponsor from our area who bought the man I love an immunity to snake venom. Unfortunately the 69th arena was just full of snakes. The whole world was full of snakes, until I watched the bombs fall and most of Daddy's kingdom was gone in the blink of an eye. His cowards met the fate they deserved.

My husband and two of my brothers survived the rebellion thanks to a drunk from District 12 and about a thousand other people who had enough of life with the snakes ruling.

My husband never did completely give up the morphling. It saved him. He didn't have a cold heart and the drug soothed him. I was proud of him, even though most people after the rebellion didn't even know he was a victor. You see my father had horded his treasure and I horded mine. I could always see things very clearly and I faked his death two weeks before the quarter quell card would have sent him back to the arena, whether his name was called or not. He was a very good man even if he believed in charming snakes rather than offering you hand to be bitten. Sometimes he was right. Neither the rebel snakes nor the capitol snakes ever noticed that I removed him from the menu.

Flat-Dirt grew up to be a brilliant builder of roads for free people to travel on. He designed over 1200 bridges in his life and seventeen hoverports. He married a girl from district four.

My husband thought I didn't know what Snow made him do to keep me safe. Of course he never knew what I did to make sure the snakes didn't win, but that is another tale.

Thank you all so much for reading!