Is this chapter earlier then my chapters usually are? Yes, yes it is. You're welcome! This chapter is ten pages long in my document and I wrote it in three days. I think that deserves some applause! I really wanted to get it published yesterday, for my birthday, but it just couldn't be done. In other news, I got an autographed picture of Cato signed by Alexander Ludwig himself! *fangirl squeal* :D

I should tell you now that any paragraphs in italics are flashbacks! Yay for back stories! The exception of this being when the overhead voices talk or the tributes are watching TV, because, you know, the TV people and the overhead announcer guy talk in italic letter. Oh, that goes for writing also. Kapeesh? I hope so because I can't think of a better way to explain it :/

Eek, I almost forgot! I made a website with the photgraphs of all the tributes! Or what I think they would look like. My apoligies if your character isn't how they appeared in your mind or whatever. But unless you've done this before you have no idea how hard it is! I know that some of them look older then they are and one or two of them look younger. The only person who really looks really looks like they should is Kestrel. I don't know why. Anywho, the website is The Kill SYOT dot blogspot dot com... you know, except that the dots are really dots and there aren't any spaces. When you get there, there is a bar in the right hand corner. Click on the button that says July just to make things easier and scroll through or click on each character one by one. Tell me what you think in your review!


Monroe, Age 15, District 1

My eyes flutter open and land on a single rose sitting on my bedside table, its petals delicate and its stem a soft shade of green. I sit up and stretch, picking the flower up gently. I raise it to my nose and take in the calming aroma. My eyes drift to a small tag attached to one of the leaves.

-Love Oak

"Monroe," I hear Oak whisper, outside my door. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," I yawn. My eyebrows rise as he pushes the door open with his shoulder, a large tray covered in food held in his hands.

"I got you breakfast." He beams proudly. I blink.

"I thought you were mad at me…" I murmur, staring at my hands.

"Hey," He smiles, setting the tray down on the bedside table and placing a hand on my shoulder. "I could never be mad at you."

"Why not?" I ask after a few seconds.

"What?"

"Why can't you be mad at me?" I repeat quietly.

"Because…" He says slowly. He leans forward and closes his eyes. I freeze, feeling his lips brush mine softly as he hesitates. He kisses me, my eyes widening in shock. I raise a quivering hand to his shoulder, trying to push him away, but he ignores it, continuing to kiss me passionately. I've never been kissed before. It sends warmth spiraling through my body, tempting my eyes to close, but with it comes ripples of fear like icy claws gripping at my spine. I don't like it.

"Oak," I say, finally managing to break away from him, gasping for breath. "I can't…"

"It's him isn't it?" He says instantly, rage and pain filling his eyes. A tear rolls down his cheek I reach out to wipe it away, but he recoils at my touch. "It's Kestrel. You love him, don't you?"

"I don't know…" I reply quietly.

"Then figure it out." He growls, his voice cracking. Standing, he makes his way over to the door before throwing it open. He looks back as he steps into the hallway. "Enjoy your breakfast." He says coldly, slamming the door shut. I… I don't think I feel very hungry this morning.

Abrielle, Age 15, District 11 Mentor

I take my tributes down to the Center early so I can watch them all come inside, all the tributes for this year's Games. It's heartbreaking to watch somber faces and hollow eyes to fill the room, young hands picking up weapons and training to kill. It's wrong. This is all wrong.

I cradle Kane closer to me and sit down in an empty chair on the side of the room next to the drink table. Monroe throws a knife and I remember my own blade sinking into Vencitiy's flesh. Kyler throws a spear and I think of Sterling's own spear diving into the stomach of Dillon, and later Tanner. Tori lets an arrow loose, and I think of Velvet shooting Ramona in the head, the very first death of my Games. Adela uses a dagger to slice open the stomach of a practice dummy. Vencitiy cuts open Elias' belly and his face contorts in horror as he watches his own intestines spill across the ground. Altair is in weight lifting and he tosses a medicine ball across the room. Oplarran knocks me to the ground with one swipe with I'm a rag doll, his hulking figure blotting out the sun. Peregrine steps into the compaction room and her blood seeps under the door. Tanner asks me to tell Vencitiy he loves her as he bleeds out. Sterling, the father of my son, dies in my arms.

I shake my head in an attempt to chase away the flashbacks. I see them at night when I dream, during the day now, too. They haunt me. They're everywhere. Just a year ago it was me talking to Sterling, not Monroe talking to Kestrel. It was Gleam on her never-ending quest to control the Career alliance, not Kyler and Lindsey dominating without anyone questioning their leadership. It was Hunter and Velvet in the archery station sending arrows flying into perfect targets, not Tori and Bo. Three hundred and sixty-five days ago feels just like yesterday to me.

I saw Kestrel when I went on my victory tour. Just the sight of him made my heart lurch when I first stepped onto the stage. I expected him to leap from the crowd and wrap his hands around my neck, despite the fact that he showed no emotion in his eyes, just as she did. That's what scared me the most, I think. He looked just like her.

The victory tour was one of the most painful things I've ever had to do in my life, not nearly as hard as watching Sterling die… but almost there. I had to stare into the eyes of the people whose lives I've ruined. It could have been their children, their love, their sibling coming back to greet them, not the pregnant blonde girl with the scared blue eyes and the trembling hands.

"When I was very young my mother used to tell me about how one day my knight in shining armor would save me…" I say, standing before District Eight, Sterling's home, watching everyone stare up at me, my eyes full of unshed tears. I smile weakly. "I never understood until now just how right she was. My knight was Sterling, and he saved my life in more ways then one. He promised me that I would come out of the arena alive. He kept his promise. He means more to me then anyone else has ever meant to me… and that's why I'm deciding to name my son Kane Sterling Maddox. So I can never forget. Because if I forget him, the Games we played together… then I have nothing left."

Azalea, Age 13, District 5

I pick up the machete tentatively. I hate it. I hate all of this, having to fight, having to hurt other people. It hurts me, knowing what I'm going to have to do if I want to get home. The pain sits there in my lunges, or at least that's where I think it is, burning my insides and scorching my soul whenever I breathe. This isn't what I wanted with my life.

It takes me a few tries before I get it right, using the machete. I'm not very good. I'm never going to be good with weapons, never in this lifetime. But I'm better with it them I am with the others. It'll have to do.

I take a deep breath and set it back down with shaking fingers, realization rocking me to my core. This is it. This is what I'm going to kill people with. But I can't kill people, I can't! It's not who I am. I told my mentor that. She said that if I want to go home then I have to become someone else… that Pixie cannot be there during the Games, it must be a different person. But I don't think I can do that. If I'm not Pixie… then who am I?

Tori, Age 17, District 12

"I don't like him," Jake says from where the two of us sit in the knot tying station watching Kestrel throw tiny knives into targets with perfect aim. I glance at him as he works to untie a knot so he can practice doing it again. "He's to… something."

"I find him a scheming and manipulative individual." I say and Jake looks at me in surprise. "Monroe will only join the alliance if he comes with her, and then he demands that the two of them not be separated as if he is in a position to burden us with more then just his presence. He acts as if we want him, as if we need him. And the messed up part is that he's right in a way." Jake thinks for a moment.

"I just don't like him."

Sigmund, Age 12, District 8

"So when the timer goes off what are you going to do?" Jennifer asks me for the third time.

"I'm going to hide while you run to the cornucopia," I reply. She grins proudly. There might not even be a place for me to hide. You never know until you get into the arena. And she seems so sure of herself, how she's going to go into the bloodbath. Does she even know what she's saying? There is a reason they call it the bloodbath, and I have a feeling that a middle school teacher wouldn't do so well in one. "Are you sure you want to go into that, Ms. Dulrek?"

"Call me Jennifer, Siggy," She says, smiling slightly. "Here we're equal."

"Okay…" I nod, knowing that I'm never going to stop calling her that. She is always going to be a role model to me, first and foremost. I'll never be equal to her until I prove that I am. "But are you really going to go into the bloodbath? What if you get hurt?"

"Of course I'm going," She nods.

"But when my mother trained me she always told me to stay out of the bloodbath." I say. "She always said to get as far away as possible or to hide before the other tributes start coming after you."

"That's what you're going to do," She says, resting her hands on my shoulders and kneeling down to look me in the eyes. Curse my tiny stature. "I'm going to get us food and weapons so we can protect ourselves and stay strong. I'm going to take care of you when we get into the arena. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"Okay," I nod, even though I know that I'm going to be the one protecting her.

Clay, Age 18, District 4

I let my trident soar through the air for a few moments before it impales itself into the dummy one last time. A perfect hit. I place it back in the proper spot before walking to the center of the Training Center and looking around me. Kyler is in Spears again. He sends three of the silver things flying into the same target, all of them hitting a perfect mark. Marcella, who had been watching, gets a rather pale look on her face. Noticing her, he sends a demonic grin in her direction and she quickly attempts to pretend she hadn't been observing him, but the damage was already done. Stella is in Archery. The instructor pulls a lever and four fake birds burst into flight. She shoots them down before they even start to lower in altitude. Oak is carving up practice dummies with a knife in his hands clutched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white. Six of them already lay at his feet, their stuffing spilling across the floor. He leaps into the air and kicks the head off of one before stabbing another as he lands, sending both of them tumbling to the ground. Claudia has moved into the Machete Station. She lops the arms off of a dummy before slicing another completely in half, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

Pixie, who had been in the station with Claudia, backs away quickly, heading off to sit with Monroe and Kestrel, a scared look on her face. I narrow my eyes. Why is she talking to them? She nods before trotting off to Jake and Tori, saying something to them before returning to the unofficial lovers. Is she… carrying messages? Alarmed, I dart over to Kyler.

"Hey," I say tapping him on the shoulder. He looks at me curiously and I nod over at Pixie as she jogs back and forth. "I think she's delivering messages."

"Yes…" Kyler nods after a few seconds, the jubilant malice lacing his voice reminding me of a snake. "Yes she is."

"It's one big alliance…" I murmur. "They won't all get in a group because they don't want us to know about it."

"Indeed," He grins from ear to ear and I'm tempted to take a step away from him, but know it would be a bad move, so I stay where I am. "This should certainly be interesting…" He cackles, whirling around and sending a spear spiraling in between the eyes of a human-shaped target. I swallow hard. I'm in the presence of a true maniac.

Lark, Age 15, District 3

The overhead voice calls for us to head into the cafeteria and I get my things quickly, keeping my head down, and slid into the seat next to Bo. We don't say much, just sitting beside each other and eating slowly. I play with my food a bit, pushing my beans around on my plate, pretending in my mind that they're chasing each other.

"Ya seem scared…" Bo observes, taking a bite of toast.

"Very," I nod.

"Why, miss Lark?" He asks, tilting his head to the side and I laugh a little. He blinks in surprise. I guess he's never heard me laugh before.

"Well as soon as we finish eating we have the private sessions," I say, stating the obvious. "What if I do badly?"

"Ya won't," He says simply.

"How do you know?" I ask, exasperated.

"'Cause you're ya," He grins. "And ya are amazin'." I giggle and he smiles warmly.

"Okay."

Fortis, Age 18, District 11

"Tori," I say urgently, pulling her away from Jake and Pixie.

"What is it?" She asks confused.

"Have you seen Animi?" I ask, glancing around.

"No," She shakes her head. "Why?"

"I can't find him." I tell her, crouching down to look under tables anxiously. He is nowhere to be seen. "Tell me if you see him, I'm really worried."

"Okay."

Kestrel, Age 18, District 6

I watch Monroe with contemplating eyes as she stares down at her fish, not even touching it. Her hands sit folded in her lap and all of her muscles are tense. She's practically radiating anxiety. I decide that if she wants to talk to me then she would, taking a sip of my water and staring off into space, thinking. Not planning, not plotting… just thinking.

"Why did you volunteer?" I ask my sister, my face stricken with horror and burning hatred.

"I need to feel something," She replies not even looking at me.

"That's it then?" I ask, anger rising in my stomach. "How could you do this to me?"

"I'm taking your chain into the arena with me." She says, not answering the question. "The one you made me when you were little."

"How could you leave me?" I ask, tears streaming down my cheeks. I can't take it anymore. Rising to my feet I slap her hard across the face. She doesn't gasp or flinch, doesn't even blink. "How could you be so selfish? After all you've already done to me you are just going to walk out because you want to feel something."

"I love you." She says quietly. I shake my head.

"No you don't. You don't have emotions, Peregrine."

"I'm going to do badly." Monroe whispers, still staring at her food. I'm awaken from my flashback and find myself studying her face, tracing its every line with my eyes and staring a disproportionate amount of time on her mouth, staring at her small pink lips, so gentle and soft like a rose.

"No your not," I say, acting a little impulsively by reaching over and tucking a strand of hair out from behind her ear.

"Yes I am," She nods, staring at me vulnerably, her lip trembling. "I'm horrible."

"You're beautiful and talented." I say honestly, my stomach doing summersaults. "They are going to love you."

"Thank you," She says weakly, her eyes tearing up. "No… no one has ever been as nice to be as you have Kestrel…" I lean forward to wipe to tear from her eyes, and let my hand linger on her face for a moment, touching her soft skin. My thumb brushes up against her lips. My heart, which has felt so numb for so long, soars when she reaches up with her own hand, holding mine against her face, her eyes closed as she leans into its warmth. "Oak came to me this morning," She says out of the blue, her eyes flickering open.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"He gave me a rose," She murmurs. "Made me breakfast… he… he kissed me." I tense until she continues. "I didn't like it."

"Why not?" I ask with a deep breath, letting my hand fall back to my side.

"I don't like him like that." She whispers, as if she's said this before. I nod, taking this in. "He's angry at me because I'm with you…"

"With me?" I ask confused, and panic spreads across her features for a moment.

"As allies," She says quickly, and I nod, disappointed. No… no, I don't have time for her here. I need to get home, that's all I need to do. But… what is there to go back for?

"Dad loves you," Peregrine replies calmly, as if that makes up for her not caring for me.

"No he doesn't," I hiss. "Not really. The only person he ever loves was Mom. Look around, Peregrine. Mom is gone!"

"I know where Mother isn't," She nods, looking out the window.

"Pere," I whisper, my strength and anger rushing out of me, replaced with only pain. I feel like a kid again, dropping to my knees and sobbing like a child, my head resting on the arm of the chair she sits, tears staining the fabric. "Don't leave me. I love you."

"I have to leave," She replies emotionlessly, just as she always did. "If I come back… I'll love you."

"No one could ever love me…" I say, breathing aloud the final words I ever said to my sister. There is a horribly long moment of silence between the two of us, and I'm quietly stunned by the beauty Monroe can have, how much attention she can hold even when she isn't speaking.

"I don't understand how anyone couldn't."

Kyler, Age 17, District 2

"Tributes," An annoying voice says over the microphones in the roof. "Please report to the waiting room. Private Sessions will now begin." We all stand, leaving our trays and leftovers sitting on the table, and shuffle into a tiny room with two benches facing each other. Marcella is freaking out because of the tiny space and Dmitri, who sits next to her, is trying to tell her to chill out while Kestrel, on her other side, just stares absentmindedly at Monroe, looking like he has absolutely no idea what is going on other then the fact that she's in the room. Monroe, who is on my right, doesn't even notice since she's staring at her feet and trembling slightly. She reminds me of a Chihuahua. I hate Chihuahuas.

"Where have you been?" I ask as Lindsey steps into the tiny room to sit on my left, despite how the Peacekeepers keep saying to sit in order.

"I've been doing things," She grins psychotically before pecking me on the cheek. My eye twitches in annoyance. I took the liberty of poisoning the biggest steak at lunch today; she always takes the biggest steak. No one else eats it because they know she'll tear them to shreds if they do and she didn't even show up. I just wasted, like, a whole cup of cyanide on that thing.

"Oak Harper," A voice says. Oak rises to his feet and glares at Kestrel for a few seconds before making his way into the Training Center.

"Good luck, Oaky Dokey!" Lindsey calls after him, waving exaggeratedly. God, I really hate her. Why do I have to like her so much?

Claudia, Age 18, District 2

Kyler goes in, and stays in there for a good forty minutes. Then it's my turn. I slowly take a step towards the door and glance back at everyone before going inside. It's the same Training Center, but the instructors are gone, making the room look unbelievably empty. I know what to do. I make my way over to the Knives Station. I pick up to and launch them into targets. Not perfect hits but still right inside the smallest circle. If they had just been slightly to the left they would have been perfect. I look over at the Gamemakers to see them scribbling things down on little notepads. I swallow hard and make my way to machetes, like I've been told to do. I pick up two, one for each hand, and set up a row of dummies. I go down the line, slicing off heads, arms, legs, anything that I can reach, twirling in between them and sinking my blade into them, their stuffing falling like blood to litter the floor. When I reach the end of the line, ten mutilated dummies lay ripped apart on the ground.

"You are excused." The head Gamemaker says to me. I do a little bow before letting my machetes simply clatter to the floor and walking out, my head held high. I couldn't have done better.

Jacob, Age 16, District 5

"Jacob Sorenson" A voice announces. I give Pixie a reassuring smile before walking inside. I'm not really nervous. After all, why should I be? This is all just standing in between me and what I want more then anything: to die. I try not to think about it most of the time, why I volunteered. I pretend like I'm just some big joker, and it's caused the others to forget I volunteered, I think. But I did volunteer, and I had a reason for it. It's my fault my sister is dead.

"Jake," My sister, Melody, calls, stepping out of the house and waving me over. She looks just like me, with the same brown hair that she keeps in a ponytail and matching blue-green eyes that twinkle in the half-light. "You're late!"

"Sorry," I apologize, holding up a hand to shield my eyes from the rain that cascades down on the muddy ground, sending drops of water splashing up onto my jeans. My house is circular, one floor, with a straw roof pointed at the center like an ice cream cone, sending whatever water doesn't seep through the roof to drip off the edges onto the moist dirt.

"Jake!" She shrieks, suddenly looking terrified, just as lighting flashes. I whirl around to find a horrible monster looming over me, its green scales glinting in the dim light, fangs dripping with saliva and venom. It stands on its back legs, towering at twice my size, three inch long claws either sinking into the door or hovering merely a foot away from my face. The snake mutt lets out a tremendous roar, yellow eyes staring up at the obscured moon, hulking tail switching back and forth across the ground, sending waves of murky water to splatter the already soaked ground. It moves faster then I can, bringing a slimy, clawed hand the size of my head down on me, slicing three long cuts into my side and sending my flying across the road, my back slapping against the asphalt and scrapping on the cement as I slide backwards. The mutt drops onto all fours, foam dripping from its open mouth along with acid that dissolves anything it comes in contact with, even the street. Its claws leave curved indentations in the ground wherever it steps, cracks running along the road and stretching out across the ground like strands of a spider web. It stops just in front of me, rising onto its legs again, green acid dripping from its mouth onto its front legs, making the creature look as if it crawled from a nightmare. Thunder cracks just as it shoots the acid towards me and I watch, unable to do anything, as my sister leaps in between the mutt and me, the acid hitting her instead, dissolving her skin and eating away her flesh as she tumbles to the ground in a bloody heap, her head cracking open on the cement.

"MELODY!"

I force myself out of my memories and onto the present. Swords, swords, swords… there they are! I pick up my favorite, the hilt wrapped in leather and covered in small jewels. The blade is perfectly balanced and glints in the light, reflecting everything that surrounds it. I grin and swipe it out towards the nearest dummy, slicing its head off in one fluid motion. I kick another in the stomach before using the momentum to slice a third cleanly in half, its top half thudding to the floor. I send a look at the Gamemakers. They look impressed, with high eyebrows and pens flying across the paper. This is going better then I thought it would.

Marcella, Age 16, District 6

They call my name and I head to the Ropes Course straight away. I run up the net as if I've been doing it my entire life, my steps landing on each rope in the perfect spot to propel me forward, my feet never slipping through the holes or being misplaced in any way. When I'm ten feet in the air, the ground far below me, I grab onto the ropes, flipping over the side of the net so I'm hanging by my arms. Using the force from the swing, I pull my legs up and loop them through the ropes before letting go with my hands so I dangle from my feet. I give the Gamemakers a little grin and a wave before sliding my feet out of the net and flipping to the ground. I land in a crouch and look up with a beam, blowing strands of hair from my eyes. That was perfect.

Eden, Age 15, District 7

My turn comes too quickly for my taste. Dmitri just went and his turn only took twenty or so minutes. I'm worried that he didn't do well; he was so uncaring before he went in. If he doesn't try, like I'm worried he did, then he's going to get a low score. That could really hurt him, in more ways then one.

I swallow nervously. Stepping into the huge room I shake out my arms a bit, remembering what I'm supposed to do, what my mentor told me to do. I breathe deeply before bursting into a sprint, leaping over a few tables. Mid leap, I snatch out of the axes off the walls and land in a run. I push off another table and twist in the air, sending the weapon spinning into the head of a dummy halfway across the room. I land in a roll before continuing my dash. I use on of the thin pillars holding up the ceiling to spin myself in another direction, grabbing a bow and sending three arrows into perfect targets. I look up at the ceiling to see it's made of square tiles, with small dents in between the separate them. I grin, pushing off of a chair and launching myself into the air. I aim upward, sending four arrows into a single crack. The Gamemakers gape at me as I land. I give them a little curtsy, placing my bow back on the shelf and marching out of the room.

Alo, Age 15, District 9

How is my day going, you ask? Horrible. Absolutely terrible. It couldn't get much worse then this. First off, I'm pretty sore from that creep going all Terminator on my face, and then Adela is mad at me for being mean to him, despite the fact that he used my body as his own personal punching bag. Then, of course, I just had to do horribly in my Private Sessions. I was aiming with my slingshot and missed a shot, and if that wasn't bad enough, it bounced off the wall and came back to hit me in the eye! Adela says its karma, but you know what? I volunteered to protect her, so she doesn't even have the right to say anything bad about me anymore. Therefore it's invalid.

I step into the shower of my bathroom, letting the warm waters flow over my skin, washing away all of my problems, and a little blood, too. Karma… come on, the world isn't out to get me! Why would it be? I'm justified! I didn't mean to be mean to the dude. It's not my fault he's sensitive! The guy needs to learn to laugh at himself sometimes. I laugh at myself all the time! I don't understand people. I mean, why does everyone take themselves so seriously? I don't. Call someone a freak just one time and they hate you for life. What's up with that?

Stepping out of the shower, I stand on a plate and a ripple spreads through my body. I let out a very unmanly squeal and leap off the pad, arms spread defensively over my face. Glancing at my skin, I realize all the water droplets have disappeared. I'm perfectly dry. I run a hand through my hair to find not a single tangle. My brown curls fall in all the right places, looking better then they ever have. I pose in the mirror for a few minutes, admiring myself, before making my way back into my room. I slip my silver bracelet, my token, back on my wrist. I put on a pair of black shorts and a big T-shirt, deciding to go barefoot into the living room. Why bother getting all dressed up? It's just a living room.

I walk out into the grey hallway, the marble floor feeling ice cold under my feet. I strut into the living room where my twin already sits, legs pulled up to her chest, aiming the remote at the TV. I plop down next to her and we watch silently as the screen flashes to life. They're going to announce the training scores.

"Hello, everyone," The announcer says, tapping a stack of papers against the table to straighten them. "Our tributes have been scored over a series of three days. They have three sessions to practice before being given a single Private Session alone with the Gamemakers in which they attempt to prove their worth. As always, tributes have been rated on a scale of zero to twelve, zero being horrible and twelve being outstanding. Let us begin."

District One comes first, obviously. They show Oak's face, his blue eyes smiling out at the audience. After a few seconds a number comes into the picture as well, his training score. Nine. I swallow nervously and remind myself that the Careers always get high scores. Monroe comes up next, and I blink in surprise when she gets a Six.

"That's low for a Career." I notice, a little confused.

"She's not a Career." Adela reminds me, annoyance still lacing her tone.

Kyler earns himself an eleven, the highest so far. It isn't very surprising, the dude is a maniac. He ate an entire stick of butter. Who does that? Claudia's image comes up next, along with the number ten. Why doesn't it surprise me? I've seen her with a machete, it's scary. She can slice off appendages like she's cutting through butter. Oh, great, now I'm thinking about the butter thing again…

Bo gets a six, and I nod to myself. The numbers seems fitting for him. It means he's still dangerous, but not as deadly as people like Claudia and Kyler. Lark gets a four. Yeah, I thought so. Four is right in the middle. It doesn't mean strong or weak, just somewhere in between the two.

It's District Four's turn next. That's Stella and Clay, the two Careers who don't really seem like Careers. I mean, Stella doesn't seem like she really wants to be here and Clay is just… weird. The two of them score a pair of identical nines.

Jake's face comes up and I can see Adela tense. Something about the guy makes her nervous, and I can't figure out if it's his good looks or the fact that the dude can cut people in half with one swipe of a sword. Hopefully it's the latter. The number ten pops up under his photo and Adela swallows hard. I place a hand gently on her shoulder and flash her a tiny smile. She lowers her gaze and I return my attention to the TV. Pixie scores a five. I like her, she's sweet. She doesn't take herself seriously, either. I'd hate for her to get hurt, she's as innocent as a newborn kitten, but she's going to have to for Adela to go home. Yes… I don't even want to go home. I want Adela to go home. I don't care if I die as long as she lives.

Tori, Age 17, District 12

I'm glad Jake scored high, but I feel really bad for Pixie. She's so sweet, but she's just not a fighter. It's sad to say, but I really don't think she's going to live long… not in these Games.

District Six comes on, Kestrel's face blinking at the screen. He's attractive, I'll give him that, but he is most certainly not my type. He's way to sad all the time. It's like he's constantly in a hole of depression sitting underneath a raincloud of sadness and self pity. He scores an eight. He's living up to the title of legend that his sister earned, I see. Peregrine only got a six in her Games. No one expected her to be as amazing as she was, surviving until the final two. If you ask me, if Abby hadn't been pregnant that Peregrine would have won. It was her baby that drove Abby to do what she did. If it had only been her life on the line I have a feeling victory would have slipped through her fingers. Marcella comes up and scores a… eight? What? How did that even happen?

Dmitri gets a six, which is expected. But what comes next is a little surprising. Eden scores a ten. I'm not kidding! She spent all of training talking to Dmitri and working on their relationship problems. What the heck…? How'd she score that high? She must be better then she lets on, hiding her talents from us so that we don't know what she can do until the Games begin.

Poor little Siggy scores a four. I feel so bad for him, he's so tiny! He's almost guaranteed to die on the first day. That must be so terrifying for him, know he's going to die. At least I have a chance. Jennifer gets a five and I shrug it off. She isn't going to survive long, either. The two of them in an alliance is just going to shorten their lives even more.

Alo scores five, and I have to admit I expected him to get a seven or at least a six. I wonder what he did to screw it up so much. His twin, Adela, manages a six, however. That must suck for him, knowing his sister did better then he did.

Aries gets a nine, no surprise there. He's strong, powerful looking. His district partner, Lindsey, scores eleven. Eleven? The only other person who scored that high was Kyler! She's just as crazy as he is, I suppose, so it makes sense.

Fortis earns an eight. Eights are pretty high, in my opinion. I'm happy for him. Jade's picture comes up next and I narrow my eyes. I don't like her. I really don't like her. She's just so… obnoxious. I chuckle to myself when she gets a five.

It's Altair's turn. He sits on the couch as far away from me as possible. We both reside on the very ends of the cushions, not looking at each other. I could not even begin to explain the unbelievable levels of awkwardness in the room right now. His picture comes up on stage, and of course the photo just had to be taken when his eye was twitching. Of course. He scores a ten and my mouth drops open. So does his. How did he do that? I am so confused. My picture comes up next, my green eyes staring into the camera and a forced smile on my lips. I hold my breath for the few seconds until my score shows up… seven. Only seven? I feel my heart drop in my stomach. Altair got a ten! What did he do that I didn't?

What did he do?