Chapter 2

The Hunger Games. Games in which children are pitted against each other to survive in a fight to the death. In which 23 were killed. In which only one survives. Where the victor is praised and adored by the people of the Capitol for killing his fellow tributes. Tributes so young. The Games changed the victors forever, and will always do, as long as the Capitol sees it fit to turn children into savages in punishment for the uprising. Once you enter, and if you survive, the memory of the Games will manipulate and twist your mind, unless your mental willpower overcomes the power of the horrors you faced. You become nothing more than a shell of your former self. A shell longing for blood. A shell that is virtually owned by the Capitol. Every year, when these Games come around, these are the words you hear. No one in District 12 desires to compete or watch the Games; they, though it is not openly expressed, despise the Capitol for introducing these Games. One thing I do not understand; surely there is nothing better than competing in the one competition which gives you the most challenge, the one which puts your every skill and every ounce of knowledge to the test, where no one truly knows the outcome.

In the Games, you have no time for play. It's a fight to the death, one that no-one wants to lose, but 23 shall, and only the one worthy is crowned the victor. Every action is watched; those with the skill and nerve to win can, when they work these skills hand in hand with intelligence and cunning. Nothing is what you expect in the arena. Nor are your fellow tributes. These are games I plan to win. The honour and glory of the kill, of the victory, will be mine. These Games won't change me like they do many others, I know. Instead, I know that they will empower me, and show that people have truly underestimated me and my worth. I have the skill. I have the intelligence. I will be the victor. Otherwise I will be dishonoured; I won't be able to claim the glory, the honour that is rightfully mine. Even in death, I will be mocked. Mocked, not revered. I have been waiting for my chance to compete since I first experienced the brutality and elegance of the Games. I will not be beaten. I will not lose. For in these Games, I shall be the victor.

These are my Games.