Day 1: Freedom and Hope

Bridget Neverland (18), District 1

Bridget woke up with a start. She looked at the clock that read about 9:30 am and she simply couldn't remember the last time she had slept in. Yesterday's events just seem to blur into haziness of how they would delay the Hunger Games for a few days once the nation had a chance to mourn for the former president. It just gave her a few more days to relax and come up with a better plan instead of training and being focused.

A knock was heard from the other side of the brown door that had a picture frame on the back of the door. The picture held a beach with the ocean waves lapping against the sand, making it seem to be reality and not just a picture. Bridget once had a dream when she was younger where she would be a princess that was locked up in a castle with prince charming dashing across to the silverstones of the castle where she would finally be free. Now that she was older, she only seen herself as one thing: Victor. "Up! Up! Up!" yelled the escort without even waiting for Bridget to reply that she was awake. "Breakfast is in fifteen. Clothes are in the dresser and dress appropriately!"

Bridget let out a small yawn in which she walked sleepily to the white dresser that had three drawers filled with some clothes. Looking through the clothes she found a sports bra, underwear and socks in the top drawer. In the middle was shirts of all different colours, leggings, shorts, pants and shorts right next to the shirts. The bottom obviously was pajamas in which she contently picked out black leggings that had a spiderweb design on them with a plain grey t-shirt with a v-neck. She heads towards the bathroom and turned on the shower even though it took her five minutes to turn on the faucet of the showers. It wasn't what she was used to, even though DIstrict 1 and the Capitol was a bit similar, but the faucets was a difference. Back home, she would simply turn on with a handle as her family liked to have ancient things which would explain the lark, mahogany grandfather clock in the living room back home. This time she simply had to push a few buttons to get the temperature right where it wouldn't burn her dark skin.

Letting out a sigh, she let her mind wander away from her. Of how much it seemed that the water would swallow her up and no one would find her until it was too late. It was one thing that she feared as she avoided taking baths in the morning where she had a good night's rest instead of how late it was when she gets home from the academy as she usually is there almost every morning and night during summer vacation since there was nothing else to do in the district. There were some cases where she would not have any choice, but to take shower late at night where her eyes would feel strained in which she would sometimes put on her glasses to keep her eye strain down to the minimum, but she hated wearing glasses.

Once she showered and put on her clothes with her dark skin pink from the hot water, she headed towards breakfast. At least a dozen scents made her mouth water at the smell, some of which she wasn't unable to identify, probably do the frenzy of the morning it seemed like. Plantanium's hair was gelled neatly, and he didn't look like he was tired one bit. Bridget had heard of his reputation in the district that he was the leader of a a gang, and would do things that she couldn't dream about if someone said no, but those were only rumours. Rumours that she didn't believe in.

She sat in a plush chair across from one of her mentors-Jasper Quartz. His auburn hair was cut short and was scrawled messily across his face with his dark violet eyes staring at her with a blank expression. Jasper Quartz won a few years ago by acting like a leader, who made rational decisions and wasn't overconfident. Bridget remembered those games well, with his district partner-Victoria Reyen, a ditzy girl who couldn't even do anything right. Victoria only received a six which greatly surprised everyone including Bridget. Skills didn't go with her arrogant attitude about her looks-straight black hair that reached to her mid-back and onyx eyes and pale features didn't suit her, which would explain of how she died in the bloodbath once in the games. Jasper wasn't surprised, but he knew he had to win. It was a story of how much Bridget found fascinating along with other Victors' stories of how they won the Hunger Games.

"Oh cool you're here," uttered Queena in a bored voice. Her brown eyes didn't bother looking up at the tributes "We were just discussing what we should do as of the unfortunate circumstances that arose during last night parade. Interact with the other tributes today at the rec centre or interact with the Capitolites."

"That's not much options!" interjected Plantanium loudly. He stood up with his dark eyes that seemed like an endless dark pit had an angry look to them. "Why couldn't we just go train like previous years had, or are you guys that pathetic like everyone else is in the district?"

"I would like to interact with the tributes," voiced Bridget in a composed voice, unfazed by her district partner's outburst. Idiot. He could end up dying shortly after the Hunger Games with his outburst in which could make a lot of enemies including me.

"Alrighty eat up and we'll walk over to where most the tributes would be hanging out, and maybe relax at the same time," cried Lilian who almost seems pleased that they were going. Her ice-blue eyes sparkled against her blue mascara and her eyeshadow.

Bridget ate the oatmeal dutifully. Light brown sugar coated the plain oats, but she didn't care. She wanted to go to the rec centre, and possibly socialize to find some allies and maybe figure out the strengths and weaknesses like the usual amount of tributes normally did.

Soon, she found herself walking towards the rec centre against the pounding sun of the Capitol. The bright sun seem to blind her. It made her regret to grab the dark sunglasses from the nightstand, mostly to protect the dark brown eyes she had against the ultra rays of the sun, that made it hard to see. It seemed that she was the only one struggling to even keep up from the extremely ditzy escort, her mentors and her partner, who were currently walking quickly against the increasing hot temperature that seem to rise every minute or so.

Her eyes landed on a light building that seem to have a pool inside and outside. It seemed that mainly everyone went there to get away from the heat, and the air conditioner felt good against her sweating semi-dark skin tone. The escorts were sitting around talking in hushed voices, with few loud marks coming from them every few minutes. The mentors were smiling and enjoying themselves. She wanted to join in, in which she did.

Bean Brna (14), District 11

Bean huddled in a corner, away from people. She didn't want to socialize with anyone, and plus she was afraid that the others would notice her weakness. Her bloodshot dark eyes looked at the cheerful expressions belonging to the tributes. All of them looked like they were having very fun, and she was surprised of how quickly the tributes went from nervousness to having fun, from the tense atmosphere the Hunger Games had.

Bean wasn't sure what made her sit down in the corner, watching the tributes who were having a race, or some of them, clinging to the wall in fear they might drown. She was sure that some slimy, ugly snake would slither up right next to her, and insert the venom inside her, so that she would die quickly. Snakes were common back home, and she often had to monitor the holes that her room had, in case some snake wanted to hide away.

"You okay?" inquired one of the tributes. Bean noticed the damped, dark brown hair was put up in a tight ponytail leaving puddles of water onto the grey concrete. Her tan skin was damp, and created droplets of water sliding down her body. "I'm surprised you're not swimming or hanging around with the others."

"I-I'm j-just t-t-t-terrified," stammered Bean. Her tone was shaky, and it made her want to wince at the tone. She wished she was one of the confident tributes, and maybe that was why her parents gave her away. They were probably tired of her crying all the time. Bean didn't know what to believe. She only knew one thing: her "parents" were rich and had plenty of food, but gave her away. "I don't want to be in the pool, since I'm afraid that I might drown and no one is there to save me!" Tears started streaming down her face, but she didn't realize it until she felt the familiar tricking of something wet going down her chubby cheeks.

"Honestly, just get in there. It keeps you cool from the pounding sun, and stick to the walls," The girl commented in a bored sort of tone. She turned around and jumped into the deep end without any care of the world. Bean envied her, for her confidence and able to swim. Everything she lacked.

Bean did the one thing she most stupidly could do, she jumped into the pool, hoping she actually landed somewhere her feet would be able to touch the bottom. To her dismay, Bean's feat were unable to find any sort of ground and she was far away from any wall that would make her afloat.

Growing up, Bean stayed away from water. She was so afraid that someone would might drown her in a bucket of water or perhaps, some sort of flesh-eating bacteria would kill her, since the water at the Home was never clean. It was usually a murky-brown colour, and when it was clear it usually was met for drinking water. Bean heard creepy stories that made her even more afraid to even go in the Bathroom and use any means of water. She heard that there was some ghost that was drowned nearby in some sort of lake, because of some girls that pushed her in there and the girl was unable to swim. Content in rage, the demon ghost would kill innocent girls around the age of twelve to fifteen to seek her revenge. It gave her the chills just thinking about. But she had worse things to think about, instead of one horror story.

Her brown eyes stung in the water as she tried to force her eyes open. For a second, she thought she saw something deathly pale and long dark air that was soaked to the bone, and Bean was almost certain that it was the demon girl from the story and the ghost would kill her. Her eyes started to close as she began to lose consciousness with her lungs screaming at her to contract. Was this how she was going to die? Because of her sheer stupidity in doing so?

Her dark legs were kicking uselessly against the heavy water. She wanted to get to the surface, and to get a large breath of oxygen. Her arms were rapidly swinging around at her side, and her lungs were starting to scream at her to contract, in which she obliged. She let out the air she'd been holding, and Bean soon realized what she done. She lost the oxygen, and she was starting to sink to the bottom beginning to lose consciousness in the process.

Something whisked her off, and got her to the atmosphere where the started coughing rapidly. Her brown eyes blinking rapidly. Her damp brown hair that was now straight, clung tightly against her skin and felt so heavy to move. Bean started crying all of a sudden with tears falling down freely, probably in happiness or something. She had no idea what she was feeling, but she was happy to hear the loud squeaking coming from nearby. The question remained, who saved her?

"Are you okay?" someone inquired, in a worried tone. She couldn't identify it. Of course, she didn't did a lot of socializing because she really didn't want to talk to some murderer that was acting like a tribute, escort or mentor. She didn't know these people! Bean valued her life, thank you very much.

"I think so. I p-prob-probably sh-shouldn't h-have d-d-done t-t-that," She stammered. She had no idea how she managed to be on the damp ground. She felt cold and her goosebumps danced across her arms and her legs, with hair prickling upwards. "I-I probably s-sh-should've s-s-stayed in the c-c-corner though. drowning is one of my worst fears, but it looked fun in the distance of course."

"Obviously!"

Blue Flametale (15), District 7

Blue spent his time, climbing the rock climbing wall. He always wanted to climb one, when he was younger but his mom denied. He still didn't know why his mother would deny it, or maybe the fear of his father finding out that he was able to climb.

"You should put your foot where your left hand would be at, so that you would be able to reach the next grip," said the dark-skinned girl-Juniper he reminded himself. One of his district partners. He'd found her very annoying with her babbling about her dancing skills and how it could help in the arena. He didn't care that she was one of the very few best dancers in the district. Juniper acted like a spoiled brat sometimes, and he really couldn't hate to get his hands around her throat and choke her to death, for her annoying personality.

"I don't care," said Blue, raising his left arm to grab a grip near him. His arm somehow missed it, and he tumbled downwards, with Juniper's faint of a smile on her lips as he went down. Blue was greatly annoyed of how much he wanted to prove himself for the stupid girl. Ugh, why did he had to compare himself to her girly figure.

"I told you so," Juniper commented, before she raised herself. Replacing where her left hand used to be was now positioned upwards and her left ankle was resting at a grip. She seemed stuck, and Blue regained his footing onto a blue grip, and pulled himself upwards to where Juniper stood stuck. He couldn't believe of how a girl could get stuck if she pointed out where his hand should go. He was going to be better than her, and no one would stop him.

"Oh shut up, treehead."

Blue didn't had time to see her reaction to is earlier comment, before he scaled down after reaching to the top. His somewhat long feet landed on the gym floor, and immediately took of his harness. He wasn't used to wearing one, preferring when he spent some of his days in the trees hiding from the bullies, who were jealous that he was rich and they weren't. He didn't care that the kids back home were jealous of him, a he knew he was a special kid who lived with a drunk father and mother, but otherwise in a most wonderful home ever.

Even though, Ronald wasn't one of the rich kids but a middle class. He was loved there, and grew happy there. He could remember playing soccer in the small forest right by his house, where he somewhat beat Ronald. It only proved of how good he was, but it was too bad when the ball hit one of the trees where a hive of trackerjackers lied. He stood in fear remembering one of the incidents that a trackerjacker nest landed on him. His pale hand reactively traced the scar that went from the bottom of his left earlobe to the corner of his mouth, where the trackerjackers stung him the worse. The surgeons got out the poison leaving stitches in its wake, with most of his face leaving no scar compared to the somewhat noticeable one on his face. Blue felt somewhat insecure about the scar and on his beautiful features, but he knew scars brought out the beauty more than a simple face. He was going to be a victor in this year's game!

Raven Well (12), District 12

Raven almost wanted to let out a giggle, as he approached the front doors of the building. He only assumed that there would be some guards or something that would prevent the tributes from leaving the building. He didn't had any say so, where they wanted to go since Jaycee and the escort agreed to come here, without any consent from him. It almost made him feel worthless and feel like he was stuck in hell where his father would hit him for messing up, like he'd done that earlier before he left.

The handprint bruise on his face was still quite noticeable, but was sort of fading. It turned into an ugly shade of grey instead of being in the ugly shade of blue, where the escort and the stylists cringed. Probably from the way, it was noticeable and how ugly it looked. He still had the concealer on his face, leaving him paler on his than his normal fair-skin look. He was forbidden from leaving their penthouse without adding the concealer which made him feel more girly and more like a Capitolist who had a cake full of makeup on their face. It annoyed him greatly. He had the urge to rub it off, and let people know that he had a bruise on his face. It wasn't like he cared, so he rubbed off the concealer letting his bruise show.

Raven stepped out of the somewhat cold building and into the heat that the sun brought. It reminded him of an oven, and he was a cookie that would be scorched if not checked on. He experienced hot summers back in twelve, and it almost let him be homesick, but it wasn't like he really could come back home. His parents didn't love him, and was gleeful when his name was called. His brother and friends, however, cared for him leaving him conflicted. He wanted to win, but at the same time he wanted to die. His thoughts didn't help, but he had days to figure it out. He was known for his irrational decisions os that could wait.

Raven followed some crazy lady who had an afro bubblegum hair that had shades of green that reminded him of vomit, whenever he got the stomach bug that usually happened twice a year or so. The vomit and gum lady headed into a salon, in which he felt almost giddy. He wanted his hair dyed instead of it being a dirty-blonde that connected it to his father. He wanted it still be blonde, but probably a platinum one.

"Hello. I'm Lucia Bellows the third, after my great whatever grandmother who owned this shop two centuries ago which is quite boring to say, but whatever! I don't really care if you have an appointment or not," the woman rambled as he entered the room. Her blue hair was put up in a curly half bun, with dark purple eyes staring at him. "You look like one of the tributes. I don't often get tributes, but anyways welcome! What would you like?"

"I guess platinum blonde," said Raven unsurely. He found that this woman was really annoying and loved to chat, which he sometimes hated. Raven usually liked the peace and quiet instead of it being chipper and loud.

"Wonderful. Would you like any highlights in it? Such as your blonde? Blue? Blue is in season, and I love the colour blue, anyways. It's why I have blue hair, but kept my family's signature of violet eyes…" Lucia continued on, in which Raven tuned out of her annoying voice. "But let's get started, shall we?"

Raven followed her into a room, where she took out bleach from a container after she grabbed plastic gloves from a box. He sat rigidly in the black chair that was very uncomfortable and he wanted to get his hair done instead of it getting trimmed back to his ears everytime it got too long for his tastes.

"I'd find that doing it by hand has better results than using a machine. Doing it by hand, is slower but has best results instead of missing your scalp completely, leaving your blonde their instead of it being bleached into white…"

Raven stared at the white walls that hung very few pictures on it. Wincing when his hair was tugged roughly, but ignored it until he stopped feeling the tug of the hair and the fingers leaving his hair.

"All done!" She cried out, "Just don't wash your hair for a few days so that it would stable out to get the best results!"

Raven said nothing only trudging on into the heat of the weather where he snuck back into the building where no one was paying attention to him. He wasn't surprised. Usually everyone at home ignored him, so he kinda stood invisible. He really didn't care if no one approved of his irrational thoughts of getting platinum hair.

I'm finally on summer vacation, so I should update more so that we could get to the games. Sadly, there is literally like a whole bunch of chapters so I don't know when we'll get to the games. I don't know if I'm going to get an update out tomorrow, because I have to be at the airport at 4 in the morning to go to Washington D.C. so I'm staying up all night tomorrow. And I sorta have a date with my dad since he's taking me to the airport and we're playing games to pass the time. If I don't get an update out tomorrow, than I'll see you in June!

Let me know what you think, and I'll see you next time with Night 1 that would feature four or five tributes. Any guesses of which one?