Below is my first fanfic!
the first time i drafted this, it had a completly diffent ending.
well, practicly the whole thing was diffrent.
i did a lot of editing...
please reveiw so i know what i can improve upon!
thanks!

'Im going to die,' I think as they draw my name from the wealth of names in what they called the reaping ball. Now its just the draw bin. Nothing special, they say. We die for nothing special.

I make my way up to the stage. I ignore the stairs over to the side somewhere. I can't see them. I walk into the stage. Whoops. I begin clambering over the edge.

I didn't say I was going to make it easy for them.

There is no way I will survive their Hunger Games. I hate the stupid event. At least in the past, I didn't have to watch them on tv. But now, I'm a part of them. Oh, happy day.

Everybody watching me on stage knows I will die. Still, nobody cares enough to volunteer. I'm not surprised – not even the nicest kids in town would volunteer for their dear mothers. Not that their mothers can be reaped. Accepting my death – as its inevitable – I watch the capitol woman pick a boy to send to pretty much certain death. I don't know him.

I suppose they can take my life. But since I have no chance at winning, they can't take my happiness – I don't have to spend the next few weeks plotting to kill people, and weeks after that actually killing them. Perhaps someone will want me as a friend.

But I scratch that. Nobody wants to be my friend.

The rocking motion of the train is making me sick. I will myself not to get sick over this, when I should be feeling sick at my impending doom. My will is no match for my stomach. I turn from the window.

A guard steps up to tell me I'm in room two. Apparently the tradition of each district getting its own floor has died out. Damn.

I realize that a week from now, that gaurd will have no trace of kindness left. None of them ever do.

Sitting in the catacombs under the arena with no company other than my own is surprisingly boring. My impending death doesn't really trouble me, for some reason. I just wish I had something to do. These are my last hours, after all.

I wonder what the landscape above me is like. Who will win the games? I hope its not one of those evil creatures they call Career Tributes. Stupid brutes.

The metal disk arrives to take me to my doom. I climb aboard, saying my last goodbyes to the living world. The moment I feel the unfiltered air of nature surround me, I hear the last of a desperate scream:

"WHY CAN'T I SEE!"

And in spite of myself I smile. I know what this means. We are almost equal now – for they are confused and afraid of the dark.

And yeah, I'm in the dark to, I guess.

But hey. They're giving me, blind me, a chance.

And what am I supposed to do? Wait till the stupid brutes regain their sense and start feeling for weapons?

No thanks.

'Cause I have a chance.