The Ever-Lasting Games

Chapter 1

I sit, trembling with fear. It courses through my veins, into my blood, my heart. It happens every time. And that's the only thing that sets me back from the other 'competitors' around me – I still feel emotion, they do not. Nor will I, in a few years' time. If I last that long, of course . . .

People didn't usually live here, I heard, that long ago only 24 children came and perished while one would survive. That sounds almost tame to what's happening now. Now, it's constant. The fighting, the gore, the blood, the torture, the killing – everything.

It is the ever-lasting Hunger Games.

And I am a part of it.

"Cassandra!" my younger sister, Robin, calls urgently.

Ah, yes. Cassandra Whitlock. 15 years old. I used to be a nice, sweet girl back in District 12, before they took us away. Ha. Look at me now, still bathed in blood from a fight with a career not long ago, long brown hair dreaded up to my bottom, injuries all over, cut lips, grazed arms, a dead look in my grey eyes and carrying numerous weapons.

I turn around to see what she wants, and just in time too , because right in front of her is a huge, dark figure breathing heavily and dripping in blood. It can only be one of the careers.

Big and strong, the careers may be, I actually have the upper hand here. He has not yet seen me and is edging slowly towards Robin. So, as quickly and as quietly as I could I took out my knife from my drenched boot and threw it swiftly at his blood-stained back. He looks behind, eyes bulging and lets out a deafening scream.

I look away, but I know he is dead, as the tell-tale boom of the cannon tells me so.

It is only me and Robin left from our family. I'm pretty sure you can work out where the rest are. Dead. Gone forever, I even had to witness most of their deaths, see the life drain from their eyes, feel their bodies go stiff and cold. . . It's the only thing that keeps me going. I need to avenge them, and I will. I will joyfully kill every last career that dares even think about touching Robin. I will protect her if it's the last thing I do, and it probably will be the last thing I ever do. . .

Robin is only 9 years old and is forced to put up with fully grown men trying to murder her. But, she has definitely got more guts than what I had at her age. She has spirit, unlike me. I'm just a cold and lifeless person, killing everything in my way because there's nothing else to do and also the only thing I can do.

The arena is forever changing, so for a week it could be a frosty, snow-covered wasteland and the next a hot, dusty-dry desert and so on. It's another trick of the Capitol – it means we can never get used to our surroundings.

None of us are quite sure why we keep fighting as there is no possible winner anymore. No way out of the living nightmare. When one person dies, another is taken from the Districts and is put in this hell, while the Capitol watch it gleefully in the comfort of their own home, sipping on whatever red stuff they drink and laugh at us struggle. They don't care at all for what we feel, but of course, we're merely tributes. They don't see us as people, and that is the main reason I despise them. And of course they put us here. . .

There are very few 'happy' moments in this place, but I am going to tell you one of them.

But please, be warned.

It does not have a happy ending. . .

A/N: Hello! Sorry it's a bit of a short chapter, next will be longer. I am intent on finishing this fanfic, as I usually abandon a lot of them. Please review, means a lot! Hehe, thanks for reading and if you have any tips I take criticize really well, but I'm only 13 so be nice!:-))

-Erin