11th Hunger Games: Annibel Blake, District 10, age 16
'Little orphan Annie', the nickname that had tormented her all through school, the cry shouted out by one of the crueller boys as she makes her way to the stage. At the Home they are all orphans, so it's her unruly red hair and rabbit teeth that get her teased. The night after the parade, before they go into the Arena, their Escort turns on the television in their apartment where a comedy show is making predictions about how each of them will die.
They can't seem to decide whether her opponents will laugh themselves to death at her appearance, or whether they'll mistake her for some strange new animal and try to wear her hair as a trophy.
So when she sees the boy near her smirk as she dives for the wooden stake, she doesn't think twice about charging towards him and ramming it into his chest, over and over until his blood coats her entire front and his dead face wears an expression of dumb surprise.
When she scurries away from the supplies brawl, still armed and coherent enough to take food and water too, none of the others try and approach her. That night, when the show the faces of the dead in the sky she realizes it was the volunteer boy from One that she murdered. She also realizes she doesn't care. He was laughing at her, just like everyone else in her life ever did.
She finds it quite easy to kill when her victims are wearing the faces of her tormentors from home. There are plenty of them; she runs out of tributes before she runs out of leering, jeering faces, the chunk of battered, splintered wood falling from her fingers onto the body of a small boy whose name and district she can't even remember.
They have to cut her hair short to get out the dried, matted blood. She doesn't mind. They fix her teeth and do something to make her long nose and chin less prominent. It doesn't matter. Not to her.
She knows now it doesn't matter what the outside looks like when the inside holds a monster.