A/N: So I read a lot in this fandom, but this is my first piece written in here. Hope you enjoy!

This was written for the forum called Starvation which features general HG chatting and a monthly one shot challenge. This is for the April 2010 challenge: Solitude If your not too busy swing by and check it out http:// .net/forum/Starvation/71918/

I am not Collins

Everything that I have ever done has been wrong. I've lost so many because of what the Capital has done to me. No. What I let the Capital do to me.

I should have rushed into that blood bath, beneath the gold horn they call a cornucopia. I should have run in there and died with all the rest. They could have ripped my body into pieces and stopped my heart from ever beating again but at least I would be alive. Johanna would still be alive.

No, I had to run away by myself to try and outlive the others while slowly killing myself and everyone around me. That's just what I did, too. I killed everyone.

I hid behind Denim, that nice boy from District 8, until all that were left were the last three careers. Then, I chopped his head off while he was sleeping. From that point on, my hands were stained with someone's blood, marking me. Alienating me from the rest. I took the axes we had acquired earlier on in the game and went in search of the careers, more victims of my slow, lonely demise.

I watched as two children unknowingly fought to the death over who would be my next kill. Sheik, the handsome male from District 1, killed his district partner before I attacked him. My blade flew from my hand and buried itself in his skull before his district partner's hover craft picked her. I spent that night resting near the golden horn that now looked rusty from blood to my blood stained eyes while I waited for the final Career to find me.

District 4 tributes are good in water, not trees. The arena was built for me. The trees soared above the ground letting me climb and duck under them, but they felt too crowded for me. It felt like all the trees watched me, accusing me, punishing me for the blood beneath my nails.

That's how the boy from District 4 got so close to spearing me through the heart. I should have let him. No the fight between Marlin and I lasted for a few moments. I swung my axe and it slashed across Marlin's chest. The older boy rolled his body placing himself behind me. Unfortunately for both of us he forgot I had a double bit axe, a blade on both sides. The rear blade cut his spine in half on my back swing. He fell to the ground, with an un-beating heart. And I stood there waiting for the hover craft to take me back to my punishment. I was heading back home, but I was dead and alone on the inside.

Needless to say I went home. Everyone loved me. I hated everyone.

I didn't want to be there, I wanted to be dead. Every night I woke up feeling like I was drowning in blood. My axe would always fall and behead Denim, but I could never wake up before the bloody mess splattered across my face. The children that I killed rested in piles of blood red leaves, watching me while I slept in my bed.

I hated all these people, they acted like these parcel days were holidays. They always treated them like they won a prize. I was the one that suffered. Food was no repayment for my livelihood. What's the point of food when it all tastes like blood?

I still hated everyone when I realized what was happening in my own house. My older sister had been seeing a peacekeeper. She was pretty, related to a 'victor', and was well off when it came to money. The peacekeepers didn't like to hear the word 'no'. I went to find her for my mother when I heard her scream from inside his house. She fell to the floor when I broke into the room, a thin log in my hands. Blood trickled from her ear and breath never crossed her lips again. I knew the smell of fresh death that slowly beginning to rise.

The peacekeeper began to turn on me, demanding me to leave his home. I never even faltered, the log I held became a blunt weapon in my hands as I broke his skull and the wood with one blow, the next crushed his windpipe. No one could touch me after that murder, I had a Victory Tour in less than two months.

My mother broke when she found out about my sister's death; she became careless, wandering around the District without cause. She had lost both daughters by this time. One was dead and in the ground. The other was like a walking corpse, yelling at anyone who looked her direction. My poor mother never saw the tree fall. She was buried in an oak box.

Father and I had constantly fought over everything. How I took care of my money. How I refused to clean my entire house. How he drank himself into a stupor every night before and after my time in the arena. He and I tolerated each other for the one thing we had in common; a love for my mother.

Once mother was gone the arguments never ended. Soon they were heated enough to bring blows in. Right before I left for my tour, I smelled the alcohol that seemed saturate him constantly now, I couldn't take it anymore. The similarities between an axe and a meat cleaver are surprising. My father had been hit by many axes while working and lived, but it only took one meat cleaver in the chest when he shoved me into the kitchen counter during our last yelling match to end his life.

I left him in the pool of blood and called my mentor, she took care of the mess while I prepared for the next days trip to District 12.

When was on my tour, everyone was watching me, I couldn't take it. I wanted them all to look at something else, I knew I was a monster, they didn't need to remind me.

The Head Peacekeeper of Panem found out about my murders though. He wouldn't let that pass, he couldn't kill me, but there are other ways to punish a person. My mentor was always quiet, but she had told me one thing before I entered the arena, she told me 'ignore everyone, you are your only judge' I found that hard to believe when she could never utter another word and was forced to clean my rooms while in the Capital as an Avox. I never saw her again. The rumor that everyone was to afraid to say anything else was that she found a wealthy lover in the Capital that could buy her way in to live there.

Everyone I loved was gone. I had no choice now, I was my only judge.

I was alone but I couldn't let the Capital tell that I was unhappy. I would make them think I enjoyed being alone. But the trees still watched me. They knew I was unhappy. They knew I was punishing myself. I could never go back to those forests with all those trees judging me.

My life ended long ago. When blood started to stain my fingers, my soul was forever forgotten. Burning in hell would be too easy for everything that I have done. I have my punishment to consider and to decide for myself. I had to pass judgment upon my own murderous hands.

I have sentenced myself to a life time of solitary confinement and I must disguise it from the capital. For my life, my solitary confinement must act as my solitude.