I do not claim to know what it is like to be a person with OCD or ADHD. If I insulted anyone in the second POV, please let me know. I did my best to research the conditions, and also used some things that were mentioned in the form.

Thanks.

Cecilia "Celia" Winters, 18

District 2 Female

Monsters aren't born, they're created.

There's something that happens to someone that changes an ordinary person into one of destruction. Something in them snaps because of trauma, and it's not something they can control. They become what they are, and at the end of the day, it's fate. So there's nothing you can do about it.

I was not created to be the killing machine I've become. Not too long ago I was just a girl with stars in her eyes and a dream that life could be something more than what it is, which is hopeless, especially in Panem. The only way your life changes in this country is through the games. The only way you get anything in this life from our society is through victory.

"You're staring off, Celia," says the head gamemaster. "You need to snap your head back into reality. Do you think the tributes from 1 and four are just staring around while they prepare to go into the games?! No! They're fighting their hearts out to be as prepared as possible! If you don't get your shit together, you're going to end up in a pine box being shipped back here!"

This has been every day since I was 12-years-old. I come to the training academy, I work my ass off day in and day out, and then finally at eighteen-years-old, I get selected. I'm going to win this year. I promise you that, you'll see me make something of my life.

"Do you want to end up like your brother?!" screams the trainer.

I turn around from where I am and slap him across the face. He looks at me shocked, and then bows his head in embarrassment and clears his throat. "I'm sorry, I got a little too into it,"

"You don't bring him up to me," I tell him. "Ever." If looks could kill this man would be dead. I can't imagine my eyes being any fiercer than what they currently are as the desire to stab this man with the blade in my hand grows more by the second. "Next time it won't be my hand that slaps you,"

"Look, you need to let that go," says the gamemaster. "It's going to hold you back, and you have so much potential, but you're going to throw it all away-"

I stab the knife into his shoulder, and he lets out a howl as blood squirts out from the wound. He looks at me wide-eyed and raises his hand as if he is going to backhand me, but I step the side and yank the knife out of his shoulder. I stick my finger into the wound, and he screams again as he falls to the floor. I stand behind him and put the blade up to his throat and am about to pull the sharp steel across his neck when a voice fills the room.

"That's enough, Ms. Winters,"

The Headmaster of the school walks into the auditorium. "Now, if you can't control these outburst, you will step nowhere near that arena. We work too hard here in District 2 to provide the top tributes. You show great promise and skill, but I will not have you ruining our chances by your petty revenge scheme,"

"It's not a revenge scheme," I say throwing the gamemaster down. "It's a promise. I will have the District 1 female's head on a pike this year." The gamemaster shuffles away and runs out of the gym. I roll my eyes and walk over to the bleachers and take a seat on the bottom row. Taking a deep breath, I slide my face in between my hands and try and hold back tears. This is the only thing that has ever made me cry in the past year and a half. He had no right to bring him up.

"You're not to touch the girl from 1 until the career bloodbath, Celia," says the Headmaster as he walks over to me with an authoritative voice. "That's final. Your brother was a great kid. He had his whole life ahead of him, but he was bested. He got sloppy and fell for the pretty girl antics that she provided. You have more common sense than that."

"It would be different if the bitch had at least won," I say looking at him. "She went and died at the hands of the male from 10! How do you train your whole life for something, and best the most promising tribute in the arena just to die from an outlier?"

He places a hand on my shoulder, and I tense up at the contact. I'm not used to people touching me. I usually never allow it. "I can't explain why things happen the way they do, Celia," he says. "What I can tell you is that killing whoever District 1 sends into this arena won't bring your brother back. You just have to hope that this girl isn't as crafty as the last one. Hiding mines in the forest area of the arena was brilliant. Hiding where her ally would step on it, and she was in the same vicinity? Risky and brilliant."

"Yeah, well look what brilliant got her," I tell him darkly as I stand up. I walk back over to the knife throwing station and twirl the blades in between my fingers. "I just want them to pay for what they did to him. They cheered for her killing him. I watched them as they did the replays and the cameras zoomed over. I want nothing more than to watch my District cheer me on as I drive a sword through her throat."

I take the knife and throw it at the dummy across the room. Another blade flies from behind me and hits mine out of the sky as mine falls to the ground. I turn around to see the Headmaster with a giant grin on his face. "If you think Tenor is going to let these things get to him, then you're mistaken. I want to put my money on you, Celia,"

"Then do it. Tenor is a psychopath anyway,"

"A psychopath that wants nothing more to win," he says firmly. "Not be dragged down by old baggage." He walks out of the room, and I'm left alone staring at the knife that is sticking out from the matted floor.

Tenor Reyes, 18

District 2 Male

One, two, three, four, swing.

Four blows, that's all I'll allow someone to strike at me before I strike back. It has to be four. For no other reason than that's how I need it to be. I will strike on their fifth attempt, and ultimately they will lose due to me being a good strategist.

"You're sloppy," I say bluntly after they strike me exactly four times. I hit their sword out of their hand and place the tip of my sword against their neck. His Adam's apple slips over my blade as he swallows deeply. "I don't expect you to beat me, but I did expect a fight. You're supposed to be my second," I say throwing my sword down onto the ground. "Maybe the trainers should rethink the scoring system. You're not on the same level as me,"

I turn around and walk to the exit of the auditorium. I'm careful not to step on any of the cracks on the tiled floor as I step in the middle of every tile on my way out of the gym. When I get into the hall, I see Celia, my competition from my home District, sitting on a bench in the hallway. She looks like she's contemplating something fierce and I want to know what it is.

"Tell me what you're thinking," I say to her as I sit down next to her. I use my hand to measure the distance in between us and make sure that we are precisely three handprints away from each other. I've been told before that it is the appropriate amount of distance to have a conversation with someone, so I always make sure that I'm exactly that far away as it is the proper thing to do.

"Why do you care, Tenor?" she asks me with an annoyed expression. "Look, I'm okay if we talk in the arena and have each other's back, but please, let's just not pretend that we are friends on the outside okay? Our relationship-"

"We aren't in a relationship," I remind her.

"I meant a platonic relationship, Tenor," she says with an eye-roll. "Let's not pretend that whatever you want to call what we are is nothing more than a forced acquaintanceship."

"Well, actually we aren't being forced to at all," I say. "Nothing stops us from being able to fight in the arena once we get there. You could kill me during the bloodbath if you wanted to. Well, you could try, but odds are with your sloppy technique when you get mad, and your families history in the games I could easily best you,"

"You're pushing it," says Celia. "I understand that you have some special things that your mind goes through, but I'm not going to tolerate stupid comments like that. If you can keep your mouth and stupid ass comments to yourself, you should live long enough to make it to the top 12," she says.

"I plan on winning, thank you," I say.

"I'm sure you do," she snorts as she gets up. "Just don't forget that when you're here, you're nothing but pumpkin. You can have your little Cinderella at the ball moment, but remember, I'll only protect you so long as you benefit me," she walks down the hall and exits the end of the hallway door. I look at where she was sitting and frown. She is so delusional she thinks she has a shot against me.

I don't say this to be cocky, but here are the facts. I'm ranked number 1 in the males. I've always been ranked number 1 in the male division. There was never any doubt that from the time I was recruited at seven, to the time that I have trained that I was going into the games. Celia just hasn't been that successful in the academy I'm afraid.

I get up from the bench and walk to the locker room where I left my things. I see that everyone has cleared out and I feel good. I don't like undressing in front of others. Maybe I can even take a shower here, and that way mother won't call me stinky when I walk into the house. Hard work pays off, but unfortunately for thinks like my sweat glands, they make it pretty smelly.

I walk into the shower room and turn on the hot water. I bring the shower curtain around me as I start to stick my dirty clothes on the hook where the water can't get them. I can only stay in the shower for precisely nine and a half minutes. Any longer than that and I start to prune.

One, two, three.

These patterns and quirks have been lifesavers for me. They're a safety net for me in this world that often leaves me feeling confused and out of place. I use them for things like the shower, but they also help me with other things.

What a lot of people fail to realize is that people have patterns. People have things that make them quirky and different, and because of them, they can become predictable. You can use people's patterns against them. It's why I've stayed number one for so long. I can read them.

I might not be good at being social, but I am good at strategizing. I will come out the victor of this Hunger Games.

There we have it!

Thanks to all who submitted. I have the blog with the completed tribute list, face claims, and predicted placements (they don't mean anything towards the story though). PLEASE review the blog. It takes a lot of time and a lot of hard work, and I love seeing your thoughts on each of the tributes and my face claims for the subplot characters!

If you didn't make it in, please don't take it personally. When all was said and done, I got 40 submissions, and could only accept 24.

Before I reveal the blog, let me know what you think about Celia and Tenor!

Blog: the5hg . Weebly . com

Keep it classy,

Caleb