Districts of Hunger has a teaser up to hold you until the 18th when it really begins. It's on my profile, check it out! (and subscribe XD) I promise there's a lot more to come with chapters being about 3,000 words long each.

Speaking of which, I'm writing a story about Annie and Finnick sometime in the future-this is from Johanna's POV so there's not as much just Annie time in this story since Johanna's watching it all.

Next update will be Monday or Tuesday!

Most games are lost, not won.
Casey Stengel

Blight and I sit there for a long time without talking. We should go to bed. We'll need to be up in a few hours and sharp to take care of our tributes, but I just…can't sleep. I wonder what Finnick is doing? Is he sleeping? Is he breaking through the thin veneer and holding Annie instead of trying to hide it? We all know he loves her so I hope he's holding her. If this ends badly, I don't want him to remember he pushed her away on their last night together to protect her.

I'm terrified of the dreams, so I sit there with my hand nearly touching my lips and staring in the distance. There's no conscious thought, I'm just coiled tightly like a spring about to pop. I can feel the acid in my stomach churning, the anxiety welling up inside of me. I wish it was over already.

I don't know how I slept at all. What's more surprising is that I didn't dream, at least not anything I remember. Maybe even my mind realizes that the nightmare is the waking and not the sleeping? I get up off the couch and struggle to my feet. Making my way to my room, I see the doors to the elevators closing—Caine and Eve wave at me before they disappear. I can feel my heart thudding. I remember that ascent into hell.

Everything seems so sure before you head there. You're sure of living or dying—it's got to be one or the other. But it's not. Things aren't that simple. Emotions are messy. Instead of being heartless, even if you appear so, there's something going on inside of you. There's pity, there's rage, and there's friendship and hate. Sometimes, I've heard, there's even love. But none of it survives in the arena except mercy and vengeance.

I get in my room and shower and change before heading back out to find Blight. He forces me to eat before we head down to Control. The eggs in my stomach are churning, and I'm afraid I'm going to be sick. I take a deep breath as we step off the elevator. My face is firmly set into the lines of indifference as I push my way in. I can't break character.

When we walk in, I'm astounded to see that a lot of people are there already. There's Finnick and the group from Four. There's Haymitch from twelve that I know. I recognize Enobaria and Phillipe from two. Blight lets me know there's two others who aren't here yet—Braje and Tomas. District one has Gloss and Bethel, unofficially Cashemere too. She won't be able to be seen on screen. All of the rest muster at least two victors, but I don't really pay attention to their names. I'm eager to get to my station.

I settle into my chair and turn on the screen. I hurriedly check the account for money, and I can't believe my eyes. It's not as much as the careers probably get, but it's impressive for us. And to think, it'll all be for waste. I square my shoulders and Blight kisses the top of my head, "Well done, Johanna."

"It won't ever be enough," I take the cup of coffee he gives me. It's so hot it scalds me, but I keep drinking it. "How long?"

"An hour," he says.

I sit there and stare at the screen. "When does it come on?"

"About five minutes before they come up."

I feel the acid in my stomach burning. I hear the laughing and talking of the other victors. I don't know how they can be so calm right now. We're about to relive the games.

Finally, everyone falls silent. The screen in the center of the room, where all the cubicles face lights up and introduces the game. It's where all the main views are—like we're watching on television, the only individual and constant views of tributes are on our screens for our own tributes. On the desk is the funds and equipment screen—one for each of us, and then a screen that follows each of District Seven's tributes.

Claudius Templesmith's voice booms out from the center screen as gold letters appear on the black screen—The 70th Annual Hunger Games. "Welcome to the Hunger Games. This year promises to be absolutely amazing as far as contenders and this year promises to be one of our most amazing arenas yet!" The camera shows the arena from above, then from several different views all at once. It's overwhelming. Last year had been a rather normal year, but this year—they'd definitely decided to shake things up. The whole area was tropical. The whole place was hot and humid looking. It'd be easy to die from any wound, infection would be so easy in even the simplest cut. That's probably the plan though, you can't help a cut.

There's a ruckus a few feet away. Haymitch is cursing, and he's popping open another bottle to drink. Blight leans in close, "It's a lot like his arena." I look at Haymitch with a new found pity.

There's water dripping from the leaves in the jungle. There's a large dammed up lake, a volacano, footbridges across crevasses a mile deep, and then there's the creatures. Even I am in disbelief, "Is that a dinosaur?" It's unnecessary to ask though. It's clear what it is, I think it's called a T-Rex. I find my hands reaching for an axe that isn't there. I've got to pull it together. I lean back in the chair and listen as Claudius goes on and on about the arena and how long it's taken to build. Blah blah blah. But…dinosaurs?

Then it's the moment we've all waited for. The screen goes black again, and all you can hear is breathing. It's like a thousand different people struggling for air, it makes me feel like I can't breathe. It's then I realize that they're using the breathing of all the tributes as they come out of the launch area to make the sound. Twenty-four people breathing, twenty-three of them's breath is numbered.

The camera's focus in on each face, one at a time. They're uniforms are a camoflauge of bright greens. There's gloves, boots, thick jackets, and coats despite the heat. The career's are tensed and ready. There's Annie, her hair pulled into a low ponytail, the wild waves falling down her back wit her lips slightly parted. I notice her fingers do the same thing as Finnick when he's nervous. I wonder if she picked it up from him or was it the other way around?

Triton's completely calm. It's eerie. But it was part of his act, calm and observant—never brash and always laid back. Amber's practically twitching to get off the plate. I look away from all of them, and focus on the screens that show Eve and Caine. There they are, both collected if slightly nervous. Their stances are ready, arms loose at their sides. They've already identified each other across the way, they're almost directly across from each other. We'd discussed whether they should go to the Cornucopia or not. I told them finally, after we'd went back and forth about it that it'd be best to wait and see. With terrain like this, they'd not make it far without supplies. But they're from the Community Center, if there's one thing kids there are known for—it's running fast.

When the gong sounds, I'm not ready. They're off running hard and fast. A girl—I think from five—falls. I focus in on Eve and Caine, she's amazingly fast. She reaches the Cornucopia only seconds before Amber. There's a grapple, and my heart thuds as I see Amber reaching for a blade a few inches away, but it's Caine that hits her hard. Amber's stunned when his fist connects since he hit her from the back. Eve's got her hands on an axe and two bags and a knife. When Caine turns, he grabs up another axe as she passes him one of the backpacks and they're off running as the fighting at the Cornocopia begins. Amber's fingers curl around the knife, and she makes it to her knees to throw. Eve and Caine are running beside each other towards the woods. I see the knife embed into the strap of Eve's backpack. I can't tell how deep it is. My eyes flick down to their screen, and I watch them pull together—grasping a hold of each other's hands so they don't lose each other in the jungle as they run deeper in.

Annie and Triton are back to back. Annie has a spear that she wields strangely well. She blocks and thrusts with it, short dagger in her other hand. She's faced off with Cole from twelve. He's matching her blow for blow, even though he's inferior to her. But after a few more minutes, she dispatches him easy. Her dagger twists in his leg. There's a grimace on his face, as he falls to his knees. Her dagger cuts across his throat and he falls over. There's a look of relief on her face as the flecks of blood appear as the screen zooms in on a close up of her face. There's small ringlets curling down around her damp forehead—and then she's fighting again.

Triton moves swiftly with his sword. He appears expert at it—which is surprising as district four is known for their tridents and spears. Amber is slicing and dicing and spinning. It's hard to distinguish them all amidst the chaos. I'm glad Eve and Caine are safely away.

By the time things settle down, there's pools of blood and a severed limb lying on the ground. Nine dead. Both from three, the male from five, both from six, male from eight, female from nine, and both from twelve. The careers all made it through, unscathed and with them their chosen ally Keegan from nine.

I notice that the mentors from three and six leave. They've got no one left to watch over. I look to see if Haymitch is here still, but he's gone. Blight tells me he left as soon as the boy was killed since the girl died long before him. I can't imagine how he feels back in twelve, the only victor…I'd have lost what's left of my sanity without the other victors. I hate to admit it, but the thought that they're old and will leave me sooner than later is a worry I've felt often lately.

Amber takes the lead, kicking the male from eight's limb out of the way. The food is divided up swiftly while Annie and Keegan keep watch. Each of them have a bag, and a arsenal of weapons before the cannons start booming. Nine loud booms, and then silence is in the arena.

Amber looks over them, "So we got two choices. We can keep the supplies here under guard while we hunt, or we can take it to them. But we don't know what's out there and where we'll get stuck."

Triton hefts his shoulders into the bag, "We should take it with us. It won't be safe to leave it here, even under guard with whatever is lurking out there." The others agree, and they begin to hunt. It's apparent right away that Amber has accepted Triton as being the closest in skill to her. It's obvious who's she's allowing to be second in-command.

After another hour, Eve and Caine have stopped running. Their clothes are drenched with sweat when they stop. Caine has her turn around before he inspects the knife wound. It's stuck through the strap of her backpack, and through the jacket into her arm.

"Hold still," Caine pulls it out slowly while she grimaces, then carefully she removes the backpack and jacket. The back of her tannish tank top is torn and stained with blood. When she pulls it to the side, there's a gash hallowed out about two inches long from where the knife had moved while she was running. "Doesn't look too bad," Caine tries to catch his breath still tired from running.

"Let's see if there's anything for it. Stings like the dickens," she smiles at him. "Thank you Caine."

"For punching Amber?" He smirks, "Believe me it was my pleasure." They both laugh and it's a strange sound in the arena as they dig through their bags and find a small medical kit. There's some antibacterial cream there, bandages, basic first aid stuff. With a push of a button, I send them one of the cheapest and most helpful things—a needle and thread.

Eve catches the parachute and opens, "I think Johanna wants you to sew me up."

Caine rolls his eyes, "Just great." They're smart though. He gets his back up against the tree while she stands in front of so he can put in the stitches—not trusting that they're safe. She keeps here eyes open and watching as he cleans it, puts the antibiotic on it, and stitches it up. I rub the scar on the side of my hand, remembering what it was like to do that.

She winces some but she takes it pretty well, "I'm glad it's you and not me. I don't like needles. Blood, I can handle, but needles. Bleck." She shakes her head lightly causing the dripping wet hair to fall loose from her bun.

But they don't stay still for long after she's bandaged. Eve swiftly shimmies up a large tree with Caine right behind her. You can tell by the skill with which she moves that she was one of the ones that climbed up high to do repairs or lightening watch or to cut up the top of a tree if needed. Caine is heavier, but he moves relatively fast. When they get to two close branches, the settle in about thirty feet off the ground and take inventory of the rest of their bags. Four bottles of water, two medical kits, jerky, and two loves of bread. "This won't last long in the heat," Caine says as he turns over a loaf.

"We'll eat it during the recap, a whole loaf. No sense letting it mold." He nods in agreement as they rest for and drink a bottle between them. They snack on some of the bread before moving on. They move around to the right so that they're not heading in the direction they were last seen, a good counter-measure so they're not tracked as easily. They move well together. Eve pushing through the undergrowth—hacking if need be, while Caine walks half-facing the back. One look at the screen and I can see their betting odds have gone up significantly, they're ranked right in the middle of the careers.

They don't come up on anyone for the rest of the day—the careers or Eve and Caine. There's plenty of noise in the jungle though, including a terrifying scream that seems to hang in the air for hours after it's gone and the cannon booms. The male from ten wound up being dino chow, tough way to go. Though it's evident that the dinosaur is really just a muttation, a highly evolved and more terrifying form of dinosaur really.

It's past dark when the careers camp near some water. They build a small fire and then camp fifteen feet further back in the shadows with at least two guards on duty at all times. The first shift falls to Annie and Triton, it's not late enough in the game for there to be any distrust of each other yet.

The nightly announcement begins before the careers decide to turn in and leave Annie and Triton to watch. Eve and Caine are still walking, exhausted and dripping in sweat with another bottle down when they pause to watch. The ten faces go up in the sky, there's only fourteen left.