SALEM'S POV

I have two reasons why I have to survive and get home.

The first is obviously myself. I certainly don't want to deal with injuries of any kind, and there's no way in hell I want to die. I'm not suicidal, thanks, like my brother. Well, I don't know if Holland would go as far as putting an end to his own life, but I do know that he's probably the unhappiest person in the whole District.

See, my brother is hearing impaired, which means that he often doesn't hear the things we say and so we have to talk in sign language. Mom and Dad forced me to learn it, and to use it, so it's become a bad habit of mine. Of course, the Capitol people loved it.

Since Holland is special, and he's the baby, and he's the sweet one, he's the one that my parents love the most, and everyone instantly adores him, ignoring me. That's the reason I can't stand to be around him, and the reason I hate his attention-seeking guts. He put on a show, he's pansexual, so that people will cry for him some more and love him, because he can't get love any other way.

Enough about Holland. He disgusts me.

Anyways, the second reason I have to get home is a little more complicated.

Hester. My girlfriend, who also likes my brother which is strange because I really hate him. Then again, Hester is nice to everyone, even my disgusting younger brother. It's one of the things about her that makes her perfect.

She and I have been through hell and back together, and we help each other through. It's the thing that makes our relationship perfect. She's the only thing besides my own stubborn determination that keeps on making me get up each morning.

My time in the Arena's been relatively fight-less, though, which is nice. I've been on my own and haven't seen any other tributes in days and days. That certainly makes it easier.

Hester's been my best friend since either of us can remember, and we started dating last winter. It's been the best couple of months of my life. She's beautiful, she makes lots of smart-ass jokes but I just ignore them or try to laugh. She's compassionate and kind, and sometimes she'll say something really funny. She makes me the closest to happy I've ever been. She likes me better than Holland, which says a lot because everybody likes Holland.

She and I have gone on adventures together like you wouldn't believe. One time she tried to get under the hole in the electric fence (on one of those rare occasions when it was off) but didn't make it. I wonder if, maybe, someday, someone will be able to make it. I hope so, it'd be amazing to get to see the woods.

Anyways, she's my reason to live. She's the reason I get up and make myself face the dangers that are waiting for me. And she'll be worth it, I'm sure, when I get home. Did I mention she's the one that took my virginity, and I took hers?

Yeah, that was interesting, to say the least, but we've gotten a lot better at it in our adventures.

The only people that know about that part, though, are us and the other two friends in our group, and Holland, who I've forced to swear into secrecy. After all the love Holland's stolen from me, I refuse to let him ruin this by telling our parents.

I have two other best friends in my group, neither of whom are as funny, interesting, or attractive as Hester.

First, Hazelle Coleman, who has round gray eyes and dark hair. She's nice to everyone like Hester; that's how she ended up in the group. She lives two houses down from me and is really lovely: but she will not let you push her around, and that's the reason Hester and I respect her. She, too, has an affection for my brother, and they like to talk to him though I have no idea why.

Second, Kyran Kasparek, who's made a name for himself at the Hob. Kyran's an alcoholic, but he's a nice alcoholic. He has anger-management issues sometimes, like myself, and that's why I need him around. Sometimes you just need to take a beer and vent about life, and Kyran is good at listening and venting. Sometimes, he steals things from the bakery to eat and he's very good at it, though he's gotten whipped at least four times. He never stops because he could use the extra money to get alcohol for himself. He's got a very keen artistic eye, but denies it. Hester and Hazelle are sometimes weary of him, but never vocalize it.

Hazelle got the news out of Hester almost as soon as it happened, and unfortunately, Kyran was in the room when Hester spilled all the beans.

Needless to say, he still hasn't let it go. He spends his time making wise-ass remarks about it and asking me how my sex life is and if I'm getting it regularly now. I always ignore this when he says it, until he threatens to tell Hester about our evenings together (she still doesn't know I drink) and then I have to tell him. I often make up stories to amuse myself, and by then Kyran's so drunk he doesn't get it anyways.

Those are the days. I can't wait to get back to them. I can't wait to sleep with Hester, to get drunk with Kyran, to tell Hazelle stories and to get far far far away from Holland.

There's really one person back at District 12 who I fear, and it's not my family for sure. Not even Kyran's parents, who are fierce and abusive, but still not scary.

No, the only person back home I'm afraid of is Hester's twin brother. Hector Stallosky is terrifying because if he knew what I've done with his sister, surely he'd beat me to a pulp. He barely trusts me, anyways, because he likes Holland. Like, I can't even hold her hand without getting a dirty look from him. Hopefully he won't fight me if I'm a Victor. I mean, who would fight a Victor!? Surely nobody smart.

I like getting lost in my thoughts. It's a somewhat happy place to get lost in, mostly because Hester's there. Besides, I have nothing better to do as the hours tick by and I'm by myself. If I had an ally, I could tell them these stories: tales of Hester and I being complete idiots, tales of giggling with Kyran about stupid shit, stories of arm-wrestling with Hazelle and almost losing but winning at the last moment…

I wonder if Holland has such happy thoughts to get lost in. I hate his pansexual ass most of the time, he's a nuisance and an affection-sucker, stealing the attention of all my friends except Kyran, all our family members… He makes me sick. He has friends, too, three of them who are just as sweet and gross as he is.

Elizabeth Klara is 16, a year older than him, and her grandmother is an Archer. Rebecca Archer is the last of her siblings to be alive in District 12, and she's losing her health. The family is famous because three of the six siblings died in the Games. Crawley Archer died a couple years ago, dreadfully alone. The middle one, Miranda Archer, ran away with a Capitolite. I dunno what happened to them.

Anyways, this Elizabeth girl is friends with Hester, somewhat, so I have to tolerate her. Sometimes she and Holland hang out with Hester and I.

Then there's Barney Bannister, someone who's just as disgustingly sweet as Holland and Hester and Hazelle. It makes me sick, how he has a smile all the time, and always seems to be happy. I guess I'm just not that type of person, because I very rarely feel happy.

Finally, there's Isabella Henderson, who is nice but more like me: unsmiling unless something is really really nice, but she's a lot more compassionate than I am.

All of them are what I want to be but never can be because I'm just not that person. That's why I like to drink with Kyran so much; he knows what it's like. Though, he never wants to be that person, he just wants alcohol. I can barely blame him.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps and snap out of my memories. As much as I like to think about Hester and my friends, I realize that here is probably not the best place to do so. Not in a place where people want my blood and I want theirs.

Antoinette is dead, I'm the only tribute from 12 left, and I want to get home, get food into Hester's mouth, and Hazelle's, and Kyran's, and I want to go far far away from Holland and the rest of my dumb family. But I'll never be able to do that unless I stay alert.

From the Cornucopia I managed to sneak away with a knife, but nothing more. I've been living off of berries and water from the little pond nearby where somebody: I think the boy from District 10: died.

Anyways, I can't be thinking about anything right now, because I hear footsteps and snap back into it at the sound. When I look up, I see who it is for the first time. It's the boy from District 7, and he's got an axe in his hands when all I've got is a dumb knife.

I swallow hard. This is a fight that is not going to be easily won.

But I'll do it.

I'll do it for myself.

I'll do it for Hester.

Bring it on, Lumberjack.

LUTHER'S POV

"Hey, Luther!" Casey runs over. I wish I could've run away, but it's too late now.

"Hey," I mumble, trying to turn away.

Casey grabs my shoulder forcefully, "Hey, what are you doing?"

"N-Nothing."

"What? Are you afraid of a girl!?" She laughs, "Luther Pultzer, afraid of a girl!"

"I'm not afraid," I say quietly. I can't be afraid. Nobody in my life I've ever met has been hurt by a girl. Casey is harmless, I'm sure of it, but the bruises don't hurt any less with that thought.

She kisses my lips and says, "Are you alright? You don't seem yourself."

"I'm fine."

There's a pause and she gazes at me. "You're not going to ask about me?"

"I wasn't going to, but I suppose I should now?"

She cracks her knuckles and says, "If you're smart you will."

I swallow hard, "Fine. How are you?"

She smiles, "Good, now that you're here."

"Of course."

She smiles and kisses me. "So… You want to have your way with me, then?"

"Not really," I confess, "The reapings tomorrow are really getting to me, I think."

She slaps me across the face and I blink in shock as the pain subsides. This is how she pressured me into losing my virginity in the first place, slapping me until it hurt so bad I couldn't say no. She wouldn't let me leave without doing it, anyways, I was really out of options. Casey has major anger issues and I'm her favorite person to take it out on. She's made me bleed before: severely, but I live with it, not telling anyone where I really get my injuries from.

Then she slaps me again for good measure before kissing me.

I wake up with a start.

What a nightmare. And even as a Victor, I know I can't get away from her. She has too strong of a grip on my life, on everything I am and everything I do. I can't just tell people I'm hurt constantly by a girl of all people. Especially not my girlfriend.

I can't help it, not now. I'll never be able to break up with her, I'll be forced to marry her and she'll have my children and I'll grow to be grumpy and just as abusive as she is with me…

It's not the person I want to become, but it's the one I'm going to be.

I don't know why I still wake up every morning. I certainly don't want to die, but I would do nothing if I won the Games. Maybe that's why I let the girl from District 8 girl go, after killing her ally. I didn't thing I was able to show mercy, but I did.

I surprise myself every day.

Not very often, but every once in a while, I do something nice against all odds. It's astounding, really, and it proves that I do have good left in me. I like when that happens; when I manage to do something nice, my heart soars with makeshift happiness and I realize that I can be something, so much more than what I am. Then I remember that I lack the courage to separate from Casey, and as long as my life is in her hands, it will be nothing.

I stare at the sky, where the sun is just rising. I have nothing but an axe. I got lucky with that, but I'm dreadfully hungry. I found water, but it's hard to get to, and there's always the risk of finding another tribute there. Taking another life. Fighting to stay alive, against someone who has a story.

I get up and walk for most of the morning.

My stomach rumbles and I sigh to myself. I really wish I had a backpack, like Eight. I wish I had the whole Cornucopia at my disposal, like the Careers. I wonder where they are now, and I wonder if they've split yet.

But, I guess I'll find that out later. I keep walking, keeping an eye out for tributes along my way but not looking too incredibly hard.

I make it to the body of water and sit on the edge, cupping my hands and drinking from them. It's pretty much the opposite of ideal, but I don't care, I'm so thirsty.

Then I grab my axe and keep walking.

I walk for the rest of the morning, keeping an eye out for anything I could eat.

Then, I suddenly see the boy from 12, sitting by himself. His gray eyes are blank and the tiniest smile is on his face: I think he's zoned out. I raise my axe, looking around to see what he's got. Nothing, nothing that I can see. I realize that I'm going to have to kill this boy.

Yeah yeah, I know that Salem's an ass, an ass in every way that you can possibly be an ass, but that doesn't change the fact that I'll bet there are people in District 12: starving people that don't even know his story, if nobody else: that are depending on him to make it back home.

It doesn't matter, I have to do it, I have to kill him. This is a fight to the death.

I take a step closer, when suddenly his eyes snap back into focus and he jumps up, holding up a knife with alarmed eyes.

I swing my axe at him as hard as I can: it hits his arm and immediately get a gush of blood for reward and I hear a crack at the weight: and he responds by charging at me, burying his knife wherever it will bury, which happens to be in my right forearm. I shove him away from me and swing my axe again, aiming for his head, but he holds his arms up in front of his face and it goes straight through his left wrist.

Salem screams and slashes his knife all the way from the base of my throat to my hip before shoving me aside and starting to run. I can feel it bleeding and already feel weak but chase after him, before I realize he's made his escape successfully and I have to commend him. The surrounding area is covered in blood, and I briefly see Salem's hand on the ground from where I cut it off, and I decide I would like to get as far away from that as possible, just so that I don't throw up.

I walk away, feeling my legs start to shake and realizing that I'm losing blood quicker than I would've liked. I mop up the bleeding with the rest of my T-shirt. It's pointless, Salem ripped the front when he cut me, anyways. Soon, the cloth gets drenched and the bleeding's barely slowed or stopped.

I can feel myself getting weaker and weaker, so I finally stop walking and collapse, leaning heavily on a block. I'm not sure how I'm ever going to make myself stand up again, but I'm strong… I'll do it, somehow. Just not now. Right now, I feel the weakest I've ever felt in my life, except, I guess, for those times I end up in Casey's presence.

I close my eyes, knowing that passing out is inevitable, figuring that I might as well do it now instead of later.

Black covers the sides of my vision before it finally consumes the rest of my sight, and I'm sent into a feverish kind of slumber.

A/N: Horray, I finally got another update of this up! I know it's not much, a lot of flashbacks as opposed to action, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways! For once, this chapter came to me pretty easily, after spending so long in writer's block. So, please, feel free to sponsor whoever with whatever (it gives me more to write about which will mean a faster update!) but don't feel pressured! Also, feel free to say what you think of the chapter with a review, I love to see them, really!

Okay, I think that's all for me.

CHAPTER QUESTION: Hm… Do you guys recognize any of Salem/Holland's friends? ;) ((I guess you may or may not...)) Idk, I'm running dry on questions.

SCORES:

Kate: 154

Dreamer: 94

Jess: 157

falyn. oliver: 43

seaotter99: 22

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