I haven't written any fanfiction in such a long time. I'm really excited for this though and I just had to post this. Read and review please! No flames or I'll find you and shoot an arrow through your neck. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

PROLOUGE

These were real tears streaming down my face. Not the fake ones I had so carefully planned out before. I could hear it, the crashes of furniture and screams of my brothers. This was my fault. I screamed so loud until my voice cracked. I should have let Dane kill me. Let him do away with a monster like me. Their blood stained the hard wood floor just like the first girl I lodged my axe into in the arena. I remember how her blood stained the ground. I didn't care then, now it seemed all those faces and souls I destroyed came back for vengeance. Marv was right; I am absolutely and in doubt crazy.

I swallowed hard and opened my eyes. Here I was again on my way back into the arena. Only this time I would not put on an act. I will show the world how merciless I truly am. How vengeful and horrible I am. I am Johanna Mason and just like last time I will stain the floor with blood. I am Johanna Mason and I am absolutely in doubt crazy.

Beautiful, that's what my mother always said. She would tell me every morning. She'd come into my room at sunrise and kiss my forehead until my eyes fluttered open. Our matching orbs capturing the awe of the sun growing from the hill tops.

"Do you see it my darling?" Her soft voice bringing me into the world, "It's the start of a new day."

I still remember her fingers stroking my hair untangling the storm of curls turning them into rolling waves of the ocean. I still remember her scent, how she always smelled of maple and pine needles which always reminded me of Christmas. I still remember her warm embraces every morning motivating me to begin the day with a smile. All her loveliness my father would say reflected off of me, that I made her lovely. I wasn't sure how this was possible because I always thought of my mother to be the most divine creature in all of district seven. How could I be more jaw dropping than her? If this was true how come the girls at my school never wanted me to play dolls with them? I never wanted to play with them but I always wanted them to invite me. I felt like I wasn't the lovely jewel my family would flaunt about. I never let any of those small inconvinces get to me though. I was surrounded by too much love.

I no longer wake before the sun rises. By the time I open my eyes it's already pounding through my window illuminating every object in the room. It's still a beautiful sight but in a different way. When something changes in life we don't linger on it, we find beauty another way. I throw my legs of the edge of the bed stretching my arms as I head over to my vanity. The vanity was the last thing my father built for me before he disappeared. I wasn't allowed to ask about him or even discuss a memory about the man I once called Papa but I never forgot him. Four bobby pins is all I use to fix my hair every morning only for the purpose to push it back and away from my face. My face that resembles my mother's all too much. Occasionally I hate it and I want to scream how I resemble that graceful breath taking woman but my older brother Marv reminds me there will be no other Johanna Mason, but how grateful I should be to hold my mother's essence. Besides now that's she's gone too along with her Christmas scent what else do I have of her to hold on to? That's all left of the Mason family. Small memories, tokens and my brothers and I. On mornings when I can't bare to look at myself I wonder if Emerson sees what Marv and I do. Emerson whose only seven will never have as many memories as I have with mother, let alone Marv who spent twenty with her. We take care of each other still as the Mason family. Marv watches over us and never takes the time to do something for himself like fall in love. He works all day cutting down trees with fathers ax; just as any man in district seven would. I go to school but mostly I think of ways to go into the lumber business with Marv. Feminism wasn't a word in my vocabulary. Emerson has crazy dreams of flying to space one day, we don't say anything. He's so young and innocent, how can anyone tarnish the dreams of a seven year old who carries a blue rocket ship everywhere he goes. Even at that I'm still surrounded by love.

School is always a blur. I never socialize with anyone really, especially not the girls who once banned me from the doll house. Sometimes I fantasized throwing an ax through their chest but somehow getting expelled didn't appeal to me, even though I hated school. I couldn't leave Allan here all alone. Allan spent a lot of time under the bleachers in the gym talking about how he wanted to discover new stuff. Well he wouldn't exactly say the word stuff but just about every other word that came out of Allan's mouth seemed to be in a foreign language. I listen anyway because no one else does. But mostly I just nod and pretend to know what he's talking about and say the stuff he talks about is cool. Allan and I are both outcasts I guess if you had to put a label on it. Allan used to sit beside me in science back when were eleven. Science is a topic the teachers just glance over. Capitol does the best they can to keep us from knowing anything past solid, liquid, and gas. For me even that was complicated but not for Allan. No, he always knew what the teacher was talking about and dared to know more. One day as I realized everything on our test was mumbo – jumbo I decided to peek over at Allan's paper. At first he didn't notice but he must have caught on because he started nudging away. Eventually he was so far away I couldn't make out a single thing so I grabbed his paper and grunted. I didn't think I was all that vicious but it was enough to make Allan scream like he was being maimed. I'm sure you can guess where the teacher sent us after that. After a few hours of lecturing by the principal Allan steered cleared of me afraid I'd rip his head off.

Sports were something I was pretty good at. This also meant no one wanted me to play with them because supposeably I was too aggressive. Pouting in a corner I heard a scurry followed by a loud thump. When I turned it was Allan face down on the ground. I helped him up and he thanked me but once he saw a glimpse of my face his expression turned to fear again. It took some time but Allan became my best friend, my only friend. When boys would whistle at me or say something Allan would stand up for me. This resulted in a bruise but I was always there to throw the perpetrator to the ground.

Allan held out his book pointing to pictures and reading me text with enthusiasm as we walked home. He was only a bit taller than me so I only had to shift my eyes to pretend I was listening.

"Are you listening?" Allan slammed his book and stopped walking.

I stopped too and pinched his cheek. "Every word," I said sarcastically.

"At least you're honest."

"C'mon Allan I can barely identify our district on a map how do you expect me to learn your science-ness."

"I get it."

"You know my brother loves rockets and stars and stuff maybe you could –"

"Be friends," Allan rolled his eyes at the idea of befriending a seven year old.

"Teach him," I smiled resting my hand on his shoulder.

His eyes shifted to my hand. They were hazel and so fixated on my small gesture it made me uncomfortable. Allan and I had moments of comfort before. He was called many names in school and so was I. At the end of the day we found comfort in each other. I never thought it meant anything but it was at these rare moments in time it seemed important. When I removed my hand I wiped it on the side of my dress as if I were rubbing off his germs. His attention turned away and looked through his book for something else to read.

"Doll face," I turned my head to the source of the deep voice. Behind us was Dane. Dane was a tall well built specimen that found it his mission to 'court me' nicely speaking. Allan told me once how he flaunted to his friends that he'd de flower me. How I was the trophy he'd really want. It's comments like that which fueled my anger. I wasn't sure what it was but Dane thought stroking my hair when I wasn't paying attention would lead me on. He'd only end up with me punching him in the gut, which I've done several times. Sometimes he'd raise his fist as if to strike me but pull it back before it came anywhere near me. I wish he would hit me, so I could really hurt him. Dane never quit no matter how many times I'd make him bleed. Yes, bleed. I didn't care if he never really did ever touch me. It was what he said that infuriated me.

"What," I sounded demanding clutching my fists.

"Just saying hello," His hand shot up in surrender.

"Hello," I said harshly and dragged Allan away.

"May the odds be ever in your favor doll face!"

For once Dane said something that mattered. Reaping day was tomorrow. Fifteen, that's how old I am, only fifteen. My name is still in that dreaded bowl. Emerson is only seven and Marv was lucky enough to never hear his name being called. As for Allan and I, we still had three years of sleepless nights the day before reaping. We walked the rest of the way in silence. When we reached Allan's house we both stood at the door way for awhile just staring at each other.

"If –" He began twiddling his thumbs. "Tomorrow I –"

"Don't think that way." I said with a bit of cruelty in my voice.

"Johanna I won't stand a chance."

"You do realize the reaping hasn't even happened yet right?"

I hated sentimental moments. I never knew how to act but Allan kept looking at me with those eyes. Those wondrous pools of sea blue and somehow it made me weak. Allan let out a sigh and with a slight wave headed inside his house. Words tried to formulate but when I opened my mouth nothing came out but a croak. I shouldn't worry about Allan. He doesn't hold any value to me nor can I call him someone I love but I'd never wish anything horrible to happen to him. My house wasn't too far from Allan's so I didn't take me long to reach it. Emerson was already on the front porch pretending to launch rocket ships.

"Hey where's Marv?" I asked shuffling his hair.

"Still working," Emerson doesn't look up at me. Instead he continues his duties as space captain.

"Emerson you should be inside."

"No, right now Capitol is doing pre Hunger Game specials and re – running last year games."

Emerson is terrified of his twelfth birthday. When Emerson was five he watched the games with Marv all night. He said he baby sat the boy tribute from our district years back. When Marv found out he had made into the final six he watched anytime there was a television near. Marv was certain this boy would win. No matter what I did to convince him he'd never see that little boy again Marv refused to listen. He became so obsessed he convinced Emerson to watch with him. When the girl from district three slit his throat Emerson was traumatized. He dreads the day of his birthday every year knowing he's only one year closer to his dismay. Emerson does his best to keep away from the Games.

"Make way make way!"

We both looked down the street at Marv heading towards us pretending to wave to an audience as if he were in a parade. Emerson rushed into his arms and I smiled holding on tightly to the pillar outside. Marv pulled me close into a hug which I accepted. For awhile we held each other like a family, like our parents used to hold us together. It was as if they were still holding the three of us though, still wrapping us in their love.

Dinner was my favorite moment of everyday. We would eat like animals and throw food at each other. Emerson act out a scenario and Marv and I would play along. It was always an adventure at the Mason home. Sometimes I'd get caught up and my brothers would take me seriously. Marv makes jokes all the time how I was born to perform. My mother used to teach me ballet when I was little. We'd prance around in slippers on the hard wood floors and she'd toss in me in the air like a bird. After she died I tried to teach myself but I never could dance the same way again. Acting with my brothers was the closet I ever came to performing again. I fell in love with playing a role of someone I was not. Clean up was a hassle and after hours of procrastinating the kitchen always wound up clean.

I brush out my hair until all the ends rest gently on my shoulders. The foams of chestnut colored curls come undone. My mother's reflection stares back at me making all my same movements. It's true what they say, I am my mother. Her beauty is mine but not her pure soul. When she died any grace I had left with her.

"Be ready for take off!"

Emerson says behind my door cheerfully. I hear him making rocket ship sounds and picture his little cheeks moving up and down as he tries to mimic a shuttle.

"5….4…3…" I begin as make my way to open the door.

"2….1," Emerson jumps into my room throwing the plastic rocket ship in the air.

"Nice job rocket man," I say sitting him on my lap. For awhile we chuckle together smiling as if nothing horrid can ever come our way. Of course reality sets in course in again. His smile fades and those once cheery sparking ocean eyes swell with tears.

"What's the matter?" I say in a hushed tone.

"I wish you were old like Marv."

"Emerson even if my name is called tomorrow do you really think anyone can outsmart me? Besides they'd be stupid to even consider crossing my path."

"You are pretty intimidating."

"There's no need to be scared. They can never hurt you."

"Okay."

Emerson buries his face in my shirt. I can feel his soft and slow steady heart beat against mine. He's so small and innocent. So untouched b society. Nothing makes him thirst for vengeance or blood. I am in complete envy of him.

"Emerson where are you?" Marv appears at my door way with a sigh of relief that he's found Emerson. I pull Emerson away from me and kiss his forehead.

"Go to sleep okay? It's late." I whisper. Emerson nods and gives me one last hug before he scurries out of the room leaving his rocket ship behind. I stare at it for awhile wondering if Emerson will ever one day be a astronomer. Marv's voice takes me away from my train of thought.

"Are you alright?"

"Perfectly fine," I respond reaching under my bed.

"Everything will be fine just don't think about it."

"Yeah," I throw my hand around underneath the bed searching.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

A grin spreads across my face as my hand grips around the surface of the object I've been looking for. "No, not at all," I pull out an axe from under my bed and stand up. Marv is standing over me with a disapproving look on his face.

"Johanna Mason –"

"Whose to say it won't be me Marv?"

"So you train like some kind of animal for a slaughter of people just like you," Marv's voice is strong, loud and intimidating. "It's almost like you want to be chosen. That you want to fight and watch innocent people be killed off."

"How can you say that? I'm just as disgusted with the games as anyone else but it's better to be prepared than an easy kill."

"Your crazy," He backs away shaking his head.

"I do it so I can come home. So I can return here."

"Every year the same fight."

"Because it's not fair and you know it. If we had training maybe there'd be more victors from district seven."

"Well sadly to say that's not how it works."

We stare each other down waiting for someone to say something. I want Marv to fight back, to take away my axe and yell about how immature and stubborn I am.

"Don't throw it by anything by the house," He excuses himself and leaves the room.

While I'm training, throwing the axe at trees and anything that moves I can't get Marv's words out of my head. He called me crazy. I'm not crazy. Never crazy, maybe confused but not insane. I throw the axe back setting my left foot behind and one last time thrust all my power forward. The axe cuts through the air almost in silence. Only a tiny wisp of wind can be heard. It lodges itself onto a opossum climbing the tree. I am not crazy.

He's a cruel man. The way he prances about the stage announcing how honorable and noble the games are. That if we're lucky enough to get called our names will be written forever in capitol records. He doesn't mention the cruelty of it all, how in a matter of weeks twenty three people, children, will be dead at the mercy of each other. Reaping day does nothing to me. I know the tributes drawn rarely but not really. Only by name do I know them. I never empathize with them. I don't believe on self inflicting pain, it's foolish. If I am not the one facing certain death why should I consider the thought. Perhaps I'm a horrible person, no, I am a horrible person. Meaning I could win. Horrible people always win. I look around at the scared children beside me. My eyes race across looking for Allan, I can only imagine how terrified he is right now. Probably sweating like crazy and trembling.

"Now ladies and gentlemen here comes the moment we've all been dying for," He stretches the word dying and gives a terrifying grin. The second his hand reaches into the bowl I shut eyes. I hear him mischievously chuckle as the mic picks up the shuffling noises the slip of paper makes as he unravels it.

"Johanna Mason!"

The world is not the same anymore. My vision is blurred and I swear my feet are glued to the floor. My eyes aren't comprehending what's happening. All I know is all the years of agony throwing axes around preparing for this moment have come. I envision the girls who call me horrid names at school, the kids who never let me play soccer with them, Dane and his crude comments. All the ugly in my world is nothing for what I'm about to face. This is fine with me honestly, I don't care. I don't care because there's no need for tears now. There's no need to scream for help. There's no need to weep in my future dismay. There's no need for it because three to four weeks from now I'll be back home and a year from now I'll be mentoring some other unlucky victim. My name is Johanna Mason, I know exactly who I am and it's time to show the world. With my best performance yet I call out words not audible and let fake tears run down my face. Peacekeepers grab either of my arms and drag me along as I helplessly scream for my brothers. In the corner of my eye I notice Marv running along the crowd trying to keep up with me. Before he's out of my sight I give a small smirk so only he can notice. Once I do he stops and my eyes loose him in the crowd. They practically throw me on the stage and I dramatically throw my body forward landing on the floor.

"Clam down now!" He says.

I know it must be silly I don't know his name but I don't care. In fact every year after repeaing I fantasize throwing an axe at his head because he truly gets a kick out of the games. Crying hysterically I struggle onto my feet. It's amazing how much attention I'm getting now. I can even see those girls with sorrowful expressions on their faces. My brothers are right, I am quite the performer.

"Our next tribute," He pauses reaching into the bowl teasing us all. "Dane Lars."

I find it almost impossible not to laugh when his name is called. I cover my face because I can't let anyone see how much I'm having with this. It's cruel I know but now that Dane is the tribute form my district all I think of is how this will truly be my best performance yet. It only takes seconds for Dane to appear next to me on stage. His face reads confusion as he watches me break down into chaos. For as much as I hate Dane he isn't stupid. Dane will be the only challenge I face in the arena.

It's a different take on Johanna and how she came to be so bare with me! I promise there's a purpose for everything in the end. Read and review.