THE 55th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES

The Games:

I can't believe we've hit over 100 views by chapter 7! This means so much to me. I started writing the 54th Hunger Games a few weeks ago for fun, and now I've had requests for this one! This makes me so happy, you have no idea! But anyway, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: There is a part in this chapter which is quite unrealistic. Please don't mistake it for me being dumb; I know it's probably impossible and nobody could do it in real life, but I just wanted to add a bit of tension to the story.


Harriet Serin, District 6:

I wake up with the familiar searing pain in my temple. That girl must have done it again. I try and grab my knife, but the pain is too much for my head, so I lie back down and wait until it passes. That's now the third time she's hit me in the head, and the second time she knocked me out.

The world finally focuses after a few hours. I'm so vulnerable, only with Wendy to protect me. I call out to her to try and inform her that I'm awake, but nobody replies. I force myself to sit up and find all our packs and weapons gone. Only my bow remains.

Those betrayers. They just left me here to starve. Maybe they thought I wouldn't wake up. Maybe they thought I would just be found and killed by another tribute. I don't know. But whatever the reason is, I'm killing them.

I slowly stand up, only to have a huge head-rush and collapse again. This time I'm able to break my fall, so I land fairly softly. I try again, this time my head coming up last. It works, and I stand there, wondering how long it's been, how many others have died. What if Fredrick is now dead? I'm really not sure. But I need to find him again.

This time I will.

Fredrick Jackson, District 6:

Michael was kind enough to send me some bandages for my leg wound. I can now walk fine, though running is a struggle. I have no food or water either, and I know I'll need some soon, since I'm beginning to experience the symptoms of dehydration.

I've also managed to climb to roof level of my building. It's a very tall structure, with a view to kill for. I stand up on the roof. It's slightly unnerving; I've never been a big fan of heights. Vertigo is not what I exactly enjoy experiencing. But I can see for miles. The woods are far from where I currently am, so trekking there would take a long time. The Cornucopia is worryingly nearby. I can just about make out the faces of the Careers, trying to track some tributes.

I notice how they only hunt in small groups of about two; probably so they can cover more ground and therefore kill off more tributes. Three groups have parted from the horn, only with a short boy as a guard. I think he's from 11. I crane my neck to see if I can get a better glimpse, when suddenly I'm grabbed from the back.

Jacob Wallace, District 1:

I sneaked up behind this fool a few minutes ago after climbing the drainage pipe on the side of the building. He's been standing there, glimpsing at the Cornucopia for ages now. I eventually decided to just kill him now.

He's actually quite strong. He shoves me away from my headlock and raises his fists. I draw my sword and prepare to hack his face off. He attacks first with a flurry of strikes, which are futile against my blade. I kick his ankles from under him and use my forearm to slam him to the roof of the building. I'm about to stab him when an arrow whistles past me, barely missing my head. I turn to the attacker. It's the boy's district partner. on the ground, shooting at me. Okay, better finish off this guy before taking care of her.

I bring the sword hard onto his chest, digging deep into his flesh. His body contracts as I yank out the blade. No cannon yet. Another arrow skims my throat. I step backwards swiftly before returning to the boy, who is on the brink of death. This is getting tedious. I need to just finish him off. So I kick him onto his back, revealing the tall, deep wound I've entrusted him with. I drive my blade through his stomach. I hold the blade in his body for a few seconds, watching him stare hopelessly at the weapon, holding onto the brief remainder of his life. I finally twist the blade in his abdomen, and the cannon fires immediately.

The girl on the ground is now firing a volley of arrows at my head, chest and neck. I can't avoid all of them, nor can I shoot back since I don't have any ranged weapons. So I retreat into the top floor of the building, providing cover.

I've got assistance at last. My fellow Careers have arrived at the scene, attacking the girl with their array of weapons. I watch through the shattered window as Jordan sends a spear flying into her thigh as she shoots him in the neck. Seeing this, Lila begins shaking. Oh no, her condition is kicking in again.

Jordan Gagashi, District 4:

Lila is screaming now. She'll probably either pass out or start screaming in a few seconds. Though I probably won't have a "few seconds". I'm dead. Stone dead. Or at least about to die. The arrow in my throat has severed the windpipe, and I'm now taking wheezed, useless breaths.

Pulling it out will only kill me faster. I'll choke on my own blood. Not a very good way to go. Yet I'm fighting it. I'm trying to cheat death. I force my legs to stand up, all my muscles complaining at this new dictatorship known as my own bodily control while dying. Lila has collapsed next to me, her intense emotions getting the better of her again.

The girl who shot me is now dead. Ella shot her in the chest before she could finish me off. The cannon fires and I know that mine will fire. Or maybe not. Maybe I'll get through this, cheating death and living to fight again. Sure, I'll be cripplingly injured and may need emergency surgery done after the Games, but that's better than death. Breathing is now so difficult I don't know if my plan will work. I try to talk to the group but only hoarse noises come out.

"Let's get back to base," Jacob says after getting out of the building. My body is screaming at me to give up, and I almost do. The world now alternates from being completely black to flashing with all sorts of strange colours. The choking noises have increased in volume, and when we reach base, I collapse onto the grass, letting the warm, sticky blood flow onto the green vegetation.

Kyle is on me within a second, yanking out the arrow and feeling around my throat for blockages of blood in the system. The pain is intense and the scream I try and give out sounds like a gargled choke. Ella runs to him with a bandage, and the large, gaping hole where the arrow pierced has been bandaged up. Air now flows through my throat, and breathing has never felt so sweet.

But the Careers aren't done yet with my surgery. They bandage up as much of my throat as possible, and even put on four layers. Talking is now almost impossible, and I probably will never speak again.

Saying that, after a few hours, my voice gradually returns. The larynx hadn't been damaged, so I can talk fine now. My throat still is in searing pain, but I can live with that. I'm alive. Not many people can say they got an arrow in the throat and lived to tell the tale. The world still occasionally switches from pitch-black to regular, to flashing colours, to bright-white, but hey, that'll probably pass.

That girl is now dead. I wish I killed her. That would have been good revenge. I've not killed anybody throughout these entire Games, so a death at my hands would be nice.

Night falls by the time I've begun to recover from my near-death-experience. The moon, clearly created by the Gamemakers, gives us an eerie illumination over the horn. Snuggling down in my sleeping bag is difficult with an arrow wound in your throat, but I manage it. I fall asleep beside the dark, bloody grass left from the bloodbath.