in celebration of finally being able to watch the hunger games tomorrow, i've written this story, as i am excited beyond belief. it was going to be 5k, but i didn't have enough time to write that much. it's not great, but please review!

On screen, I'm pretty sure I just seem like your average District 5 girl. And that's all I am, really. There's nothing special about me. I work hard in school. I'm clever, but not exceedingly so. I have a loving family. And I don't stand out. I think that's what's most important about me. I'm not impressive, not memorable. Some people would say that doesn't work in my favour, especially not in my situation. I haven't got many sponsors, but I don't really need them anyway. I know I'm not going to survive. But I don't mind. I'm not special enough for the whole of Panem to be rooting for me. The only people who would really care are my parents and my best friend, but it wouldn't take them long to move on. I'm forgettable, you see.

Amelia, my best friend, is the noticeable one. She's the cleverest girl at our school, she's pretty and loud, with striking red hair. It would be hard to forget her. As for the games, she doesn't mind them. Unlike the rest of my district, I think she actually enjoys them. She says she's going to volunteer when she's old enough, which isn't common here, but if anyone can win, she can.

Now is the only time I wish I could take her place. I grabbed whatever I could at the cornucopia, and ran for it. Ran as far as I could until I had to stop. I got a small black bag with a knife, a flask of water, and some rope in it. Most people, I assume, would be thrilled. I, however, haven't got a clue what to do. I wish I'd practiced at home with a kitchen knife, or at least do something that could prove useful. The training centre in the Capitol was hardly any help. I learnt survival skills, the only thing I had a chance at, and didn't even touch the weaponry. Looking back, that was probably a mistake.

I seem to have made a lot of mistakes, recently. Food supplies were getting smaller back at home. I noticed myself losing weight. I was happy, comfortable, before. My dad had a good job, being a senior worker in one of the power plants. But I noticed my parents becoming more and more unhappy. So I applied for tesserae. It was only my third reaping. Compared to some other girls, I would have far less slips of paper in that bowl. I didn't think about the fact that I could still be chosen. So when our escort, ridiculously clothed as usual, read out my name, I couldn't believe it. I heard Amelia's cry as I was dragged up on the stage, and I burst into tears. Way to show the cameras I had a chance in this thing. But my worst mistake wasn't risking tesserae. It was in the justice building during final visiting time, whilst we waited for the train to the Capitol to arrive. I didn't want to go. I've come to terms with it now, but I couldn't bear the thought of leaving my home, my life. So I tried to run. I'm not strong, or even a fast runner. The peacekeeper guarding the door grabbed my wrist effortlessly, twisting it round to ensure I didn't try to escape again. You can still see the red marks of his grasp, if you look closely, and whenever it's subjected to sudden movement, it throbs like hell. It's lucky I'm right handed. Then again, I'm not really going to need to do any writing in this arena. They didn't televise that bit, of course. The Capitol don't want to give the districts any impressions other than that they're the ones in charge. Though, in all honesty, that's not exactly implied, more stated as definite fact.

It's strange here, in the arena at night. There are no clouds above, and no stars either. Only the dark black sky with the silhouettes of gently swaying trees. From everything that went on today - the bloodbath, the seemingly endless running, the multitude of canon fires - it's especially calm. Almost too calm, in fact. It's the sort of moment you'd expect something bad to happen. But I don't mind. I'm going to try and enjoy the last few hours, possibly days, of my life. It's still a small mystery to me how I'm going to do so, with no company, no usual form of entertainment, but I suppose I've always liked the quiet.

Panem's anthem starts playing up above, as faces start to appear in the sky. I make a mental record of who is gone, and who still remains. Granted, I wasn't really paying much attention in the re-runs of the reapings, the training scores, or the interviews, but I've got a pretty good memory, if I do say so myself. The boy from 3 is the first face that appears in the sky. His picture looks almost pleased, as it sits in the darkness. Then the girl from 4. And my district partner. It's weird, he looked so strong, so brutal, on the train ride here. You never know though, not with these games.

That means districts 1 and 2 are both still completely intact. They're usually the biggest competition, as the majority of them are volunteers, and they train for the games from a very young age. Technically, it's illegal, but the Capitol don't bat a diamond encrusted eyelid. It makes the games more entertaining. The girl from 3, going by my memory, looked only 12. It's a wonder she's got through the first day. District 4's guy is the good looking one. He's only the same age as me, but he received rapturous applause in the interviews. Then again, he was only wearing some gold rope. There are 5 other deaths, but I'm not really bothered about them, or the remaining districts, for that matter. None of them seemed a big threat. They were all rather forgettable, like me.

I quite like the arena this year. Essentially, it's a rainforest. Just without all the rain and stifling weather. I don't know what the gamemakers are playing at this year. Surely, it's far too easy. There must be some sort of trick involved here. Or maybe I've just got lucky. I deserve some luck in my life, after all. Even in the sunlight, it was dark. The high trees cast looming shadows upon the plant-covered ground, and the forest is bursting with sounds of animals. There isn't anything there though. It's all an illusion. Vines hang down from the trees above, which make them easier for climbing, I suppose.

Three days go by without anything really happening. You would expect the gamemakers to have intervened by now, but it seems that they're waiting for something to happen.

And that's when the first cannon goes off.

Not long after, a scream, a scream of a young girl fills the air. And yet another cannon fires.

Tributes seem to be dropping down fast now. I wait, my back leaning against a vine covered tree. I'm surprisingly calm, calmer than most would be with their death just metres away. Then a boy, a tall, strong boy who I think is from District 1 stumbles into view. He can barely move, bound by intricately knotted vines. Then I notice the blood. Three deep holes in his chest, creating a slow waterfall of red onto the ground, signify that another cannon will fire soon. And, quite probably, mine soon after that. Blood is abruptly filling his mouth, as he chokes out "Run," and his body falls down, staining the landscape red.

I don't have time to hear his cannon go off though, as before I can even move my feet a body sprints up to me, wielding a shining golden weapon. He leans over me, and hesitates, hesitates for just a second. A second to see the look in the District 4 boy's eye. "I'm sorry," it says.

But I can already taste blood in my mouth as I feel a stabbing pain in my chest.