Night 1: Hope and Dreams

Dan Grant (15), District 9

Dan sat rigidly on the sofa, staring at the black screen of the TV. He already tried so many channels that could at least captivate him, but nothing could hold his interest. The channels mainly focused on what the Hunger Games, or who would win which seemed stupid in Dan's perspective. None of the tributes had their scores yet, but it didn't stop the Captolites to bet on whoever would be able to win.

He looked down in his lap to see the blue mug filled with hot chocolate that had plenty of white substance which was marshmallows before it melted. He had no idea what to do, with his district partner up in her room doing whatever she was doing. It didn't matter to Dan, as they only had about a few more days left of relaxation until they had to prove themselves which would probably explain his insomnia that kept him up all night.

"I'm surprised that you haven't passed out, since being at the rec centre all day," said a feminine voice that sounded a bit hoarse. Dan looked at the voice to see grey hair pulled in a tight bun that seem to squeeze the old woman. Her dark brown eyes stared at him warmly, and it reminded him of hot chocolate without the marshmallows. Her tan skin held countless of wrinkles all over her heart-shaped face, along with her thin, chapped lips. "Considering that you worn yourself out earlier."

"Who are you?" questioned Dan with distrust in his tone. His emerald eyes stared at the woman. She looked oddly familiar too, but yet he couldn't place his finger on it. He didn't had any grandparents left since they died before his parents had, because of a heat stroke or something like that.

"Maisie Brekkor, victor of the 130th games. I was the old woman who helped you out the morning you got reaped. I grew curious since I find you working at the fields, but go home without a roof over your head. I know it's probably weird for a stranger to give food towards a young lad, but by the looks of your scrawny figure, you probably wouldn't lasted for another few days," said the old woman-Maisie Brekkor in a calm tone. She stumbled to the chair, and sat down. Sitting almost right next to him.

"Oh ok," said Dan. "So you just give people random food because you pity them?"

"It beats letting them starve to death."

Dan was instantly reminded about David. An older guy that worked in the same fields and under the same overseer's watch. David usually brought him home for dinner, once they got out after planting and harvesting the grain multiple times, then putting the bundle of wheat into a truck where it would be distributed to factories and the Capitol. Dan considered him a good friend, despite the over fourty year difference between them. David gave him a bed to sleep on and a fresh homemade meal that his wife cooked, but Dan didn't want to risk his welcomeness so he often didn't bother coming over. Usually people simply stopped caring for him. It almost seemed like it was a curse.

From the time that his parents died from a wildfire that wasn't preventable. Wildfires were really common in the district, caused by a major drought, and the temperatures were in the 90's or in the 100's in which a spark was created and created disaster everywhere it went. Dan only remembered it vaguely from kissing his parents goodbye on his chubby dark legs, and than hearing the devastating news that a wildfire formed, killing almost everyone stuck in the fields and the fire department wasn't quick enough to hose down the fire. Wynna and Mart quickly soon realized that they were unable to take care of all of them, and only kept Sean, Josh and Baby Abigail, whom wasn't much of a baby anymore. Abigail filled out more, and took on a dancer figure compared to the baby fat she had when he last saw her. She grew her hair out to her mid-back kept in dreadlocks with her green eyes shining brightly when she said goodbye to him. The only person that wanted to say goodbye to him, the last of his connections to his "family".

Dan could remember clearly when he was separated from his family, and go to the poor part of the "family" as he was referred, to be there to be a servant of some kind. He slaved away by cooking, doing the chores and the laundry until eventually when the father of the family, fell off a moving truck and broke his back as the result, where he was paralyzed from the waist down, bound in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. As a result, the family made him toil in the fields and kick him, deciding that he would no longer be apart of the family and an outcast for the rest of his life.

"Dan, you alright?" asked Maisie in a worried tone.

"Sorry, I must have spaced off," apologized Dan, keeping his tone sincere.

"I'll cut you a deal. I'll probably die soon, and I don't have any heirs. If you win, I'll adopt you and you'll truly have a home. if you lose well, simple as that."

"Deal," said Dan without thinking about it. Dan always wanted a family, and a home he could truly call home. Everyone abandoned him in one way or another, besides David. He was an expectation from that, David hadn't let him down yet.

Fresia Ford (18), District 10

"You've told us we are just like sheep. And that you lead us and guard us like a shepherd. You know our names, and you make us feel special and loved. When we hurt, you help us feel better. Thank you, Jesus, for your good care and for giving us parents to help. Thank you for the Bible, and for teaching us stuff in life that helps us grow. Bless the people in our world, and help them to know you love them, too. Thank you for all the people who help us so much: teachers, doctors, policeman, and fireman—and so many more," whispered Fresia, as she put her arms on the bed and put her hands together. She didn't care who heard her. God was important to everyone including her. God was the reason why there was life on Earth.

Fresia stood up once she was done reciting a prayer. It was common practice to says thanks to the Lord every night, and everyone in the circle had to recite one prayer every night along along with memorizing at least one book to become a member. It made her sad that Christianity was forbidden and she wished that Christianity was allowed, so that people could believe in God once more. Fresia wasn't afraid of being in the Hunger Games, she accepted death and she would be in god's hands once more, becoming an brushed a lock of mahogany out her face, and sighed.

She didn't really felt tired though, and she wanted to read her first copy of Lamentations, but she'd done that all day. Rereading the Lamentations that were covered in blue, black, and red ink from the juices of the berries that she managed to collect. It made her smile of how crafty it looked, but yet still held the sadness to it. The Lamentations were sad, and it made her cry over the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple. It was before the time Jesus was born but people held their faith in God, just like she did. She stayed in a lounge where it was optional for tributes to relax, and she read it all.

Fresia still remembered how long it took, and the effort she did to make the book beautiful , and still held the original theme without adding anything that wasn't originally there (writing it in her own words was different). Fresia already knew she wasn't going to even try to win, but she hoped that if she won she would be able convert people to believe in God more, and won't listen to what those silly politicians did. God was there for everyone. Good or the bad, god would still forgive people despite their countless acts besides murder. Fresia knew she couldn't sin, because she wanted to be in heaven where she would rest in peace instead of in hell, where the devil lie and all the true sinners lied.

She almost jumped as she heard a small knock on the door. For a second, she didn't know where she was. No one at her house really knocked, but they did when the door was shut which wasn't often. Her parents didn't have anything to hide after all. They were true Christians. She never usually goes to her friend Nina or Anjou's houses, since they usually came over at her house, or some other thing around the district.

"Fresia, it's Callidora," said the voice. "We were going to have a nice little bonfire almost just without the fire, if you want to join us or stay in your room until tomorrow morning. Your choice."

Fresia sighed to herself, before she glanced at her clothes. She was dressed in a silk, sky-blue shirt with matching shorts with flowers imprinted on it. She had no shoes on, besides some white socks as she never went to bed without socks. Who knows when the weather would get nice and cold? Course, the district had warm days throughout the year. She did get cold feet easily. Fresia said in a neutral tone, "Alright. I'll go join you."

Fresia walked on the white carpet until she reached to the living room area. Sable was dressed a dark blue nightgown that reached to her scrawny knees, and had no shoes on, her dirty-blonde hair was put up in a loose braid on the side. Gabriella, the annoying little girl who seriously needed Jesus in her life, wore a thin, bubblegum pink nightgown that had half sleeves with matching bunny slippers. Her red hair was neatly combed and tossed over her shoulders gently. Gary was just in regular jeans and a black t-shirt. He almost looked like he wanted to disappear at his stoic pale features. He blended in the shadows perfectly. All the lights were turned off, leaving only the blazing fire as the only source of a light in the midst of darkness, even the heavy dark curtains were drawn to block the Capitol's building lights in coming through.

"So where do you want to begin, doll," said Callidora in a baby voice, possibly directed towards Rocky, the other mentor. Her dark curls were in a low ponytail where it almost enhanced her beauty. She had dark tanned skin that almost looked flawless besides a few scars littering on her arms, and her dark brown eyes seem to pop along with her cherry-red lips.

"Why do you call me doll?" complained Rocky who beared almost a pained expression on his face. "You call the others by their monikers, but not me."

"Not true. Gary here is our little warrior. Fresia is our daughter, Gabriella is the fashionista and Sable is a cupcake with sweet icing. I just like doing it."

Fresia almost wanted to cringe at the dumb moniker the mentor gave her. Apparently, she had a weird moniker and she was referred to their daughter. Creppy. Fresia knew Callidora tended to be on the insane side, but she was also extremely smart-including giving Fresia advice that she should hide her Christianity. Fresia didn't have any shame hiding her beliefs, but how would she be able to get people to convert to Christianity? She was able to successfully convert Nina though, a Christian, but not in the group Fresia was in, since she didn't want the stress of doing what was expected of her, but Fresia was proud of her and herself anyways.

"How about we start with what you guys did back in the District. Starting with um...Sable?" said Rocky, turning his attention back to the four tributes, instead of with Callidora and their personal issues. His dark blue eyes landed on Sable's light brown eyes that almost looked like hazel, but not quite. Fresia saw Sable panic with her widen eyes instead of the almond shaped and the way she shifted in her seat. She probably hated being the centre of attention, which Fresia was afraid of that also, but she knew it had to be done. Fresia couldn't live her life being afraid of the centre of attention That was the way life was. In the end no one had to worry about it anymore!

"Erm… I killed the cows since I need the money and take care of my little sister. It's a butchering job and I have to work to keep up my keep at the orphanage," said Sable in a hurried voice. "Or at least that's what everyone says." Fresia heard the last bit, and it almost made her sad. Sable really needed god in her life to let her keep moving forward, and besides it almost reminded Sable of herself, besides working at a butcher shop. Fresia had to work on many things to become a member, and despite making things beautiful, she wanted to please others at the same time. It was almost like she wanted to fit in, but Fresia didn't mind wanting to fit in. She was her own person after all!

When her name got called, she felt her heart missed a beat and she closed her eyes before saying in a calm voice, "I mostly study the bible or do whatever the Christian group wants me to do. It's what I do, since I, myself, is a Christian along with my family. I believe in god, and he makes miracles happen to all of us. He's what I live for."

"Interesting… Gabriella, than Gary. You're up next."

"I buy all the wonderful clothes in the district since I'm rich and besides my lovely grandparents who I get to see once a year lives here, so I'm all set. How's my makeup? I'm going for a natural, but yet cute look and this type of makeup is a lot more different than what i'm used to at home." She seriously needs God in her life, no life is that easy even myself isn't, despite that I'm almost well off compared to what others who have to work more and get blood on their hands. Maybe tomorrow, I should go recruit her to Christianity to get her out of this pettiness. There's much worse things than worrying about one's makeup.

Gary spoke silently, "I protect my family mostly. My father abuses us, so I have to work hard so that they're protected. It gives me something to think about since none of us is certain when we're going to die. I'm possibly the worst one yet, don't protect me though. I could fend for myself."

They all spoke, taking turns and sharing what they did. Fresia felt more connected with them, and she could relate to some of the information. Gabriella, despite her bratty behaviour, she actually had an artistic streak where she loved making things beautiful and she often showed it by her outfits and other things such as creating a mural on her ceiling, and having stained glass windows in her room (curtsey of her grandparents, but Gabriella helped make it one summer)

Ivy Butler (18), District 2

Ivy took a deep breath as she sat across the scowling face of Alkali Mori, and the young man who had curly black hair who only smiled at her. This was who she was stuck with, until they die and possibly her. Ivy already knew that she wasn't the only Butler to go in the games, but she wanted to do one thing: win. Win for the sake of being the only Butler that won, and for volunteering for that young girl who had her life ahead of her. She was just too young, and it reminded her of Nero, the happy-optimistic kind of person. The one that always put a smile on her face despite they were opposite genders, but no one really cares about that.

She ran a finger through her auburn hair feeling the silkiness and the waviness to it. Her metal leaf hung on her pale neck, it reminded her of home and the cause for all this. I promise that I will return home alive. It was a promise directed towards Niro, and her parents. Her parents were the reason why she was breathing in the first place, and her heart kept beating inside her chest during her depressing times. Ivy was just kind of tired of being compared to everyone else, and she had no friends during those times especially during training. She was simply too alone, and people blamed her for that. She never socialized much, and preferred to keep her emotions hidden where her depression got so bad that she was clinging on just a little string before that collapsed, and almost killing herself in the process.

"Ivy, aren't you hungry?" inquired the escort-Neptune, his blue skin matching the colour of the walls of the dining room, they ate in. It was dinner time, even though it was almost 8 p.m. Ivy's family usually cooked during the time period of 5 to 6, instead of it being at 8. Ivy's eyes met Neptune's turquoise eyes for a brief second before returning to the silver fork that was twirling around in the spaghetti noodles. "You've been playing with your food for the last hour or so."

"Fine." was her immentant response. Her tone sounded disinterested, and she really didn't care of how she felt. She didn't want to keep her head clouded, not when she was too busy wanting to do something else. She felt lost like a fish in the midst of the ocean with grey sharks surrounding her. She never really had bad anxiety, but once in a while she did got a panic attack. It was something small, and never really inferred with her daily life. I feel like I should not be here, like I'll always fail, like I'm never going to be good enough. "I'm just not really hungry. May I be excused?"

"Of course, Ivy," replied one of the female mentors, Claudia or something like that. Claudia's dark eyes stared at hers and Ivy felt like she wanted to disappear. It was like a horror film or something like that, where eyes would always follow the victim and she was the victim. She was probably being paranoid and the effects from watching that scary movie last night was still there. Ivy didn't like the horror films, but she didn't want to seem like a wuss so she watched it with Alkali and a few others-Plantanium, Sirene and Gary, a district 10 male. He was pretty much the only outlier there. It was probably because they watched this old film called Veronica (1) that she got scared, and almost puked during the movie, once when the demon was walking down the hallway and it just freaked her out. Ivy didn't know why they didn't turn it off, but it was fictional, right? So she shouldn't be that scared.

Ivy looked at the happy, cheerful face coming from Lime to the serious, bored looking face of Alkali. They didn't look like they had anything to worry about, while it felt like Ivy was almost doing something wrong. It almost felt like she regretted volunteering. When the headmaster told her that she would volunteer, she felt exhilarated until she learned about her family's misbehavings of dying tributes from their family. Ivy wanted to honour them, and her metal leaf was almost like a tribute to them. They died trying to do what they love, and one of Ivy's dreams was winning the Hunger Games, for honour and honouring her ancestors. Ivy was more determined to win these games, she've proven her worth multiple times, but yet it felt like she was doing something wrong and she was just saying that.

Ivy shut the medieval dark door behind her, before she let the tears appear. She had a pressure in her chest that was blocking her ability to breathe, and she just couldn't do it. Why did she have to have a panic during dinner, of all things? Ivy didn't have an answer to that, and it almost seemed that her anxiety was bigger than she previously thought and it probably would get bigger and bigger until it was able to swallow her whole. She was probably being melodramatic, but she didn't really care.

She headed towards her room, following what it seem to be the familiar path: passing the living room that held a flat-screen tv that was currently blazing some news report of what happened to the belated president and her ill-fated fate, and passed the what it seemed to be the endless hallway that held a mirror right next to the marble bathroom that held a large bathtub that could probably fit a few people and next to the bathroom was her room, right across to Alkali's room.

She landed on her bed with a plop as she stared at the blank ceiling, staring blankly at the white ceiling . There was no posters like it did at home. Her ceiling at home held posters mostly of which was the band called Traumas that sung all kinds of music varying from pop to a bit of rap, but it was still interesting. She adored the members from the lead singer to the drummer that never talked in any of the interviews, and was just there in the background. The lead singer was named Blair Evans that had an enchanting voice and it amazed her of how much Blair had vocals compared to the almost dying whale voice of Ivy's.

A soft knock interrupted the peaceful silence. It made her puzzle of who it might be. She didn't socialize with her district partners nor anyone for that matter, so that made it even more of an enigma to her. The voice confirmed who it was-Claudia. "Ivy, it's Claudia. You seem really upset at dinner and I just wanted to check on you in case you want to talk about it. I also brought chocolate in case well, you're on your period because I don't know, and well piping hot chocolate to confront you, that's what my mother used to did before she passed away shortly after I won my games."

"Come in, I guess," said Ivy after a brief pause. Ivy usually wasn't vocal to share her burden with others. She had to tough it out, like she did with everything. It wasn't like it was permanent or anything. She was an adult and she was still having these teenage problems, and it made her feel more worse.

"What's bothering you?" asked Claudia. Claudia was the straight to the point kind of person which made Ivy relieved almost. Ivy's mother usually liked to ease into things instead of getting straight to the point which made Ivy sometimes annoyed by it. She always speaks about her own experience and how she dealt with it before asking Ivy about what her problems were about. Ivy knew her mother cared about her, but it wasn't like she was going to change any time soon, and now that Ivy was about to be in the games possibly in a week or so, that made it worse. "Are you on your period?"

Ivy laughed at the small side comment about the mention of her period. She had her menstrual cycle a few days before the reaping began, where she was told that she was going to be volunteering around that time frame anyways. "No. It's nothing I guess. Probably my anxiety issues though."

"I get it, Ivy. I came from a family where they refuse thinking that there was something wrong with me, as I looked fine. Fine is just a lie. They never noticed how much I had depression, when my step-brother raped me when I was young and how much I still have side effects because of it, and my anxiety was just there giving me more panic attacks during my teenage years and it was worse when I was in the Games. I was about fourteen or fifteen years old then," explained Claudia in a rather affection caring mode. It was extremely abnormal, but yet soothing. Claudia was usually one of the coldest, cruel Victor that came out of the Hunger Games with nothing, but scars that marred her dark face. Her voluminous black curls lightly touched Ivy's pale skin, which almost felt like a cat brushing against your skin.

"And I'm almost nineteen, and yet I'm acting like some hormonal teenager. All my life, I trained for the Games living on the motto: The Hunger Games is for the strong, there is no room for error. And now it feels like I'm regretting to volunteer," admitted Ivy.

Claudia let out a small chuckle soon after Ivy admitted that. it was a little creepy in a way, since chuckling never really came after you admit something. It sorta gave Ivy the shivers, which Claudia only grinned for a few minutes then spoke, "I get a lot of tributes who were so excited, always feel like they regret when the games draw nearer. They always say the same thing, 'I don't know why I volunteered. I don't want to die.' so it's oddly normal. This is one thing you can't say 'I'm done. I don't want to do this anymore' when in fact, you're gambling with your life. You could have just sit back and not speak a word and let that young thirteen year old girl go in your place, but you didn't. You have a heart, Ivy, just like others before you."

"I guess you're right."

"Now drink the hot chocolate before it cools down."

Ivy let out a small laugh before smiling. The stone in her stomach was still there, but at least it didn't feel like it swallowed her whole.

Brandon Alderwood (17), District 5

Brandon grimaced as the killer walked into the kitchen, holding a butcher knife in one of his hands and blood slowly dripping down off the knife. Brandon wasn't fazed by the sheer mounts of gruesome, and blood in the movie as he knew it wasn't real. It reminded him of the Hunger Games. The only difference was that the film wasn't real and the Hunger Games was. Brandon wasn't afraid of the Hunger Games. Training in the community home did that to you. Death simply happened. It was kill or be killed, there was no other option.

"You're still watching this," whined Twyla. Brandon turned around saw the red tips of her long hair that looked like a carrot instead it's cherryness. His brown eyes stared into her almost tiny form, it reminded him about one of those lucky kids back home who would be able to get adopted quickly based solely on their looks. None of the older ones had a chance, and Brandon was one of the unlucky ones. He was just a natural ordinary look with his olive complexion, curly blonde hair and chocolate eyes, nothing about his appearance screamed that he would quickly get adopted. And besides with him quickly getting closer to adulthood, his chances at getting adopted was slim. "I really don't get how you could enjoy horror movies. My life is a horror movie."

"You get used to it," Brandon brushed off her comment, as if it was some annoying bug crawling over his skin. Brandon had no problem with bugs, besides bees. He hated the sound of buzzing and it would always stiffen up when one was close, and besides he had no idea if one was a trackerjacker so better be so safe than sorry. "It's not that bad, and besides you're what fifteen or fourteen so you should know about how gruesome the Hunger Games could get. This is just a minor thing compared to the real thing."

"I'm sixteen!"

"And you act like a spoiled brat who had everything handed to her. Unlike you, I didn't grew up with actual loving parents, and I actually had to work for things!" he shot back, his temper flaring quickly at the younger girl. Despite the one year difference, they acted really different. Her dyed hair was possibly a sign of how much she was spoiled, and Brandon never had enough to eat. Even at dinner, Twyla acted like she really didn't care who saw her when she stuffed her mouth with fried chicken and mashed potatoes covered in gravy. She had mashed potatoes all over her face, and dessert was even worse when she got chocolate ice cream all over her pale features. She accidently

"You think I'm spoiled?" Twyla let out a small laugh at the comment which honestly, surprised Brandon much. He didn't expect to get the young girl to laugh at his comment. "My mother died when I was born because of some complications, I'm not really sure since I never knew her. My father remarried some witch named Gisele who abhor me beyond the world. Her ugly face was always right there where it scarred me. When I was five, my father died leaving me in her hands. I would cook and clean for her, where I would never get enough food. My stepbrother Ronnie was my only friend. He died when I was thirteen, because of some electrical fire that broke out. As a result, my stepmother threw me in the fire in vengeance probably for 'accidentally killing her son or whatever' and I got a scar on the back of my neck shaped like a large plate since that's where the worse got there, causing me to lose most of my hair." Her pale hand reached to the back of her neck where he assumed where she was just tracing the scar. "So I never cutted my hair since which explains why my hair is so long, and dyed so much, to get a rise out from her."

"What's going on here?" cried Michael loudly. His dark features looked furious with his dark brown eyes almost demanding to what was going on there. He sounded furious opposed to his always composed, and reticent. "People are trying to sleep, and you two are making all this racket. Just go to bed, and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

"But-" protested Brandon. "I haven't finished watching this."

"Turn it off. Now. And. Get. To. Bed."

"I hate you," murmured Brandon once he turned off the tv and passed Twyla, making eye contact briefly before he trudged on into his room.

D.C was so fun and I wished it lasted a bit longer though. I loved it despite the humidity there, and Liberty (the other school), no hate but they got off easily while my school got blamed. It was fun though, and I also visited Balitimore because of the airport, and it was fun. I really hope I could go back there sometime during my lifetime, there are quite a few things I want to see again. Funny story though, my roomates and I kept getting woken up by the chapterones for the first two morning until the last day where we actually woke up on time.

Veronica is the movie on netflix that is based on a true story about a girl that plays the oijia board along with her friends, and well it's the scary movie ever so I heard. I'll be watching it tomorow when my parents are food shopping, because I so want to see it.

Let me know what you think, by dropping a review down below!

I'm still missing quite a bit of check-ins from the following people:

BabyRue11

FlyingHamburgerRider

Taniheart

BloodedInk

Jul312

silentwarrior78