:) i'm baaack. Sorry they've gotten shorter and shorter. I just want to get on to the Games. Jeez!

Disclaim: I don't own the Hunger Games.

Districts 7-12 Chariots

Alesana Marie's POV

"I thought I told that woman not to dress me like a freaking tree," I said loud enough for my stylist to hear me. My partner, Larson, glanced up at me.

"This isn't funny. Just like everyone else, they dress us the same every year. How are we supposed to stand out when we look the same? I thought the Capitol loved change. All she is doing is trying to get us killed. Some one needs to have a word with her, and I think it just might be me," I finished as I started toward the odd looking lady.

"Whoa there, fighter," Larson said as he gently grabbed my arm. What a dumb nick name. That wasn't helping me either.

"You need to stop calling me that," I told him as I tugged my arm free and crossed it over my other. I flipped my light brown hair away from my face. My stylist thought it would be a good idea to leave my hair down and draw designs on my face that matched my hair in some freaky way. Maybe, if I felt like being a tree, this would be a good tree costume. But, I feel like winning, being noticed... being loved.

"Sorry, but you probably shouldn't do that. I'm just trying to help you," Larson said to me.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I can take care of myself," I said, then turned my head to cough.

"Oh, girl. I'll help you out with that bark any day." A guy with a thick accent and dark, sun baked skin was standing behind me when I turned to see the face that belonged to that voice.

"Excuse me?" I said in disbelief.

"Name's Wist, ma'am." He said and suddenly turned and carried on down the row of chariots, horses, and distressed tributes. I was almost taken aback by the whole encounter until Larson held his hand out to me, bringing me back to reality. I ignored his hand and stepped up into the chariot. Dumb tributes are trying to mess with me.

We'll just see about that.

Riley Rynne's POV

Simple is a word that doesn't want to be my friend. For some reason, it avoids me like i'm a Peace Keeper. Never wanting me to get hints of what he is like, or where he resides. Some times, I like to think that maybe he is in me some where and comes out to play in the most complicated moments of my life. I've been living that moment for an awfully long time now.

I looked down at my arms, covered in some kind of healing lotion and make up. I could still see the soft pink skin of my most recent scar. I touched it softly, trying to remind myself that this might be better than what I could be dealing with back home...whatever my home even was.

I smiled lightly to myself because I knew that it was out there.

While my family cheered for my death, I rooted for the hope I have now. Though just a small, hardly shining piece of it.

I couldn't lie to myself that I was the best Tribute here.

But I knew greater pain.

Jessica Wild's POV

A long string of impolite words have been running in my head since the moment they called my name.

That's all i've felt like since then: a bad joke.

I knew there was no point in waiting around for someone to call out "SYKE. We lied!"

Just like there was no point in waiting for someone to volunteer for me.

No point in waiting for someone to kill me.

Or love me.

Why does any one deserve that? All it does is hurt people.

Just like i'm ready to hurt some people.

Griffin Bennetts's POV

"You know what's funny, Griffin?" asked my District mate, Normandy.

"What?"

"That I really am a sheep girl, and i'm wearing wool. It's almost kind of ironic..." she trailed off. Normandy usually looked tired when I saw her around school, but her thin face had been growing even thinner. The insane amount of make up put on her really helped hide the bags, but you could see the restlessness in her eyes.

"Yeah, that's pretty weird." I said to please her. "It doesn't hurt the sheep, does it?" I asked quickly, ready to shred this wool from my body if I didn't like the response.

"Not at all. It makes them feel better ever, because they are cooler. They like it," she told me.

I nodded and relaxed.

"You really don't talk alot," Normandy pointed out. I looked at her and gave a sad smile and shrugged. Why use words? I stood up and tugged nervously on my clothing, hoping that I didn't look too bad.

"You look fine, don't worry."

Don't worry. I am thirteen and I have to face some of those huge guys and killer girls.

I have every right in the world to be worried.

Wist Mendham's POV

I smiled inwardly as I walked away from Bark Girl. I couldn't remember her name for the life of me, but I knew she would remember mine. After tonight, every one would.

I really wasn't too worried with all of this, it hardly even phased me.

I assume that those big Career guys will want me in with them, but then again so will every one else.

Bark Girl would want me in with her too. Hmm..

"District Eleven, you're up!"

I hadn't really even spoken to my District mate, so we avoided contact in the chariot. It was just too weird. Hopefully she wouldn't distract me from the crowd outside.

And nothing would distract them from me.

The screen rolled across the Tributes all dressed up in the chariots. Some of them were waving to the crowd while others sat there with their heads down.

Finally, District 12's chariot pulled out of the holding building. The people around me shrugged and made snide comments about how D12 was more or less the same every year. Nothing to special ever came from there. What did they use coal for anyway?

The boy was looking down ward and not smiling at all. I sighed, I came from that District once upon a time. I had no idea of who this boy was, but I just hoped he would die knowing who he is.