Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins
Part 2: The Tributes
(Foxface)
She is not that kind of person, the straightforward one. (She thinks about it and concludes that she will not try to kill another tribute.) She is not even the tough kind. The chances are that she will be killed at the Cornucopia bloodbath. After all, she might be smart, wicked even, but what chance does she stand against the blatant ruthlessness and physical strength of the Careers?
And then, the Games begin. And she runs. She runs and she hides. She steals just enough food to survive, but not enough to arouse suspicion. She is a good thief after all. She doesn't know how life in the Capitol is, but, sure as hell, life in the Districts is not easy. Thievery is common enough for anyone. She will have to rely on those skills. Right now, her very live depends on them.
She knows she will probably not win, but she keeps running anyway. For all she knows, the other tributes might have written her off already.
She almost never leaves the area in close proximity to the Cornucopia. She makes sure to keep an eye on the remaining Careers, whose number is slowly but steadily decreasing. She feels quite relieved for that. She would much rather die at the hands of the innocent-looking "Lover Boy" or, hell, even at those of the petite and seemingly harmless girl with the impressive training score from District 11, than be found by the Careers. They certainly seem sadistic, as if they enjoy killing, as if they have been trained to do so their whole lives. Which is probably the case.
So, she keeps running, never stopping, always alert, always watching out. But never stopping.
(Thresh)
Thresh has always been aware of the fact that people were afraid of him. Even at the Games, where among the weak, clueless prepubescent boys and girls stand the strongest young men and women of Panem, people are afraid of him. Which was kind of the plan.
He knows that the Career tributes, the well-off, well fed cocky bastards would like him to be part of their elite group, only to take him down later, but he prefers to work on his own.
He always looks out for the girl from his District and prays it won't be him that eventually kills her.
(Glimmer)
Most people believe that the Careers don't fear anything.
Glimmer has been raised to be fearless, ruthless, brave. She is delicate, almost fragile-looking, yet strong.
Even so, she can tell you firsthand that, what most people believe, is most certainly untrue. And, no, she is not afraid of failing.
She is another child thrown into an arena, fighting to the death with other children, just like her. A child brought up with a thirst for human blood.
She remembers spending her childhood, her fucking childhood, preparing for that fateful year when she would glorify her District one more time, bringing with her an endless supply of food and money that no one really needed.
And when her name is called, the day of the Reaping, she puts on her widest smile, pearly white teeth and all, and walks proudly to the stage, knowing that somewhere her parents are watching, the same look of pride in their emerald green eyes. And she smiles because she has to.
(Marvel)
He had trained his whole life, almost eagerly awaiting this moment. His name to be called. At seventeen years old, most teenagers from Districts 1, 2 and 4 were expected to do so. In fact, their anticipation was often interpreted as pride. Pride that they had prepared their whole lives to die.
Such petty ambitions these "Careers" have. (The nickname, which was widely used by the "Slums" of the poorer districts, was well known even amongst the most privileged of Panem's slaves.) It's quite silly to long for something like that. To deprive every child of its innocence, only to throw it in a pit to be eaten by the ever glutton throng of the Capitol. Even as Victors -which is usually the case when it comes to them- they will have to endure a lifetime of death and everlasting horrors, pretending they are fascinated by the innocent blood of children, spilled for the sake of entertainment.
When Marvel readily volunteers, he can almost hear the sigh of relief coming from his father's lips. Never being a tribute himself, he had set his sight on basking in his son's glory.
In the arena, as he watches Cato, Clover, Glimmer kill with such gratification, as his own knife takes innocent lives he knows his father's efforts have finally paid off.
Surprisingly enough, e finds himself preferring the company of Lover Boy, the "slum" from District 12, than endure another second of Cato's thirst for more blood or Cloves derogatory comments on the "cowards" who preferred to run than front their opponents face to face. Not that they would stand a chance.
And when he finds that poor girl entangled in the net and throws the spear that ends her life, he only feels sorry for himself, for being merely a part of the games. He almost feels a pang of jealousy for the dying girl before him.
But only for a second. Then he is grateful, because the arrow that punctures his throat feels almost yanks it for good measure, halving the short remainder of his sad life.
He mentally thanks the girl on fire - so, that's how she scored that Eleven - before he collapses to the forest floor.
Next: Part 3: The Capitol (II)