***Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts in the fourth POV***

Hecate Athens, 18

District 2 Female

Do these people think that I don't know what they're talking about? That I don't see the stares and the whispers as I walk by them? I see it all, and not only do I see it all, but I remember. I'm playing friendly right now for Gerard, and that's even a service that I'm questioning as I see him sneak away for his rendezvous with the girl from District 1 with the stupid name.

I am not the type of person to be played with.

What I wouldn't give to be back in my sacred room back home. The spells that I could enchant people with. The hex that I could cause those who spite me. I was foolish to not bring the journal with me as my token.

The journal has been passed down in my family for years. In it is every spell my family has ever come up with. It's the source of my power and entanglement with The One. With the journal, all of my power comes to fruition. However, now without it, I'm going on memory, and even I realize that I don't have the best memory.

"Where's Vanity and Gerard?" asks Alon as he searches the training room. "They keep disappearing."

The only reason I don't blow their cover is purely because of my loyalty to Gerard. Not that it's much, but he's still the best chance of an actual alliance I have in these games. I won't be getting help from my family and sponsors. My family was very against me entering the games.

As a whole, Mysticism is very peaceful. It's a connection to nature, which is what I thrive on, but there's always been... darkness in me that I can't quite place. I felt alive when training, or when a spear pierces the flesh of one of the practice dummies. It's something my family never entirely understood, but as I've learned more about this darkness, the harder it has been to put away.

"Gerard said something about going back to the suite for something," I tell him quickly. "He slept late this morning, and he just ran down to the elevator."

"Figures," says Alon as he turns back to Kilee and Royce and starts talking logistics with them about who is going to make it into the career alliance. "I think we should pull the girl from 6 in. Considering she's been staring at Hecate since we've come into the room this morning, I think it would be beneficial. I bet we could get her to take watch for as long as we needed at night and make sure we sleep well."

"I'd be okay with it," says Kilee. "She's young, so I wouldn't feel comfortable killing her." She pauses and then contorts her face. "Unless she did something stupid."

Something about her isn't sitting right with me either, but I can't quite put a finger on it, perhaps I will find out as we approach the arena. "Hecate, can you go talk to her?" asks Royce.

"Yeah," I say, standing up from the ground and walking toward her. "I guess."

I turn my sights on the girl from 6. She's a short girl with blonde hair that is too long for a deathmatch. It would be easy for someone to grab her by the hair in the arena and quickly weaponize it. Her eyes fill with shock as I walk closer to her, and as I sit down next to her, I see her begin to sweat.

"I'm not here to hurt you," I tell her swiftly.

"I-" she begins to say, but her voice catches. "I know."

"Good," I turn to her and sit in a criss-cross position as she continues to look straight ahead of us. "I know that this isn't a traditional thing to do; in fact, in most games, it's probably frowned upon, but we are recruiting people for the career alliance this year, and we'd like to add you to the list."

She looks at me with shock, and a wide grin appears on her face. "You mean-"

"Yes," I tell her. "You get to work with us during the Hunger Games, and we will protect you during the bloodbath. However, you'll have to follow the orders of the girl from District 4," I scrunch my nose as that line leaves me mouth. The more I've thought about it, the more I've regretted giving her such a coveted spot. She now has the advantage when she's talking to sponsors during the interviews.

"I would love that!" she says, rapidly flipping her body to face me. "I've been so nervous I wouldn't find anyone to work with, this is a dream come true!"

"What's going on here?"

I turn my head and see the boy from 6 standing behind me. He looks worried as I sit next to his District partner. The look of panic on his face makes me want to smile, but I resist the urge as I turn back to the girl from 6.

"We are talking about something, 6," I tell him. "Leave now,"

"Damn, bitch," he whispers as he turns around and walks in the other direction.

"My name is Hecate," I tell the girl from 6. "You are?"

"Maeve."

"Well, Maeve, since you're helping us, is there anything that I can do for you as we gear up for the arena?"

Her face contorts to a neutral expression as she begins to think. "You can kill my District partner, so I don't have to," she says to my surprise. "He's been getting on my nerves."

I might like this girl, after all.

Celio Ortzi, 15

District 3 Male

"Damnit," I swear as my blow dart rolls away from the dummy. I haven't been able to hit the target once, but here I am, attempting to find a weapon that doesn't make me look like a complete loser. Swords? Ha, those are heavy, and I'm not about that lifting. Spears are light, but do you know how hard you have to throw those to get them to stick into the dummy? I was watching the girl from 2, and I wanted just to surrender because if I'm in a fight with her, I'm ending up impaled.

I've tried everything, and nothing has worked.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Jenava says.

She's been talking to the boy from 9 a lot, and he's been standing around us awkwardly all day. I don't know what she did yesterday that made him interested in consistently being by our side, but even if this is a forced alliance, I'm okay with more numbers.

Bigger groups mean a higher chance of getting away in the bloodbath. I don't have to be the fastest tribute. Just have to be faster than Jenava and Patrick.

"Can we talk about how weird it is that we are expected to pick up a weapon and learn to fight?" asks Patrick as he twirls a throwing knife in his hand. I tried using one of those, but you, unfortunately, have to have the aim to use it. "Like, I feel like in a normal situation, not being able to shoot a dart into someone's neck would be a good thing."

"This isn't a normal situation," says Jenava as I load up the blow dart and retake a shot. This time I miss and throw the blower onto the ground in frustration. It rolls under the bleachers that are next to the station, and I curse as I look at the trainer for a new blower.

"No can do, 3," he says, shaking his head. "We have enough for everyone to have one blower. You're assigned that one. Go get it."

I roll my eyes and walk over to the bleacher. Before I even step behind the bleacher, I hear some strange sounds coming from them. I poke my head around the corner and see the girl from 1 and the boy from 2 heavily making out.

And of course, your blower is right next to them.

I clear my throat, and the girl from 1 practically jumps away from the boy from 2. She looks at me angrily and storms over to me, throwing me against the steps on the bleachers. "What the hell do you think you're doing pervert?" she asks me.

"I dropped my dart blower," I say pointing my finger over to where they were standing. "I needed to come to get it. They said they wouldn't give me another one."

She rolls her eyes and lets go of the collar of my jacket. She motions for the boy from 2 to toss her the blower, and she catches it. She shoves it into my hand and smiles cruelly at me. "I'll just take care of you in the bloodbath, no worries," she says smugly.

"Then I'll just let everyone know you're back here getting some knock off love from 2?" I tell her. "You're the one that needs me to keep my mouth shut. You can't do anything to me in here, but I can cause a lot of damage for you."

"He's right, Vanity," says the boy from District 2. "We are kind of at his mercy."

She crosses her arms in front of her body and taps her foot on the ground. She looks at Gerard and then looks back at me, and then lets out a sigh. "Fine," she says, kicking one of the legs holding up the bleachers. "What do you want, 3?"

Never in a million years did I think that this would be possible for me to obtain. A career that owes me a favor in the bloodbath? That's insane. This could be a game-changer for me, and for the first time since I had to step foot on the train that brought me to the Capitol, I have hope that I'll be able to make it past the bloodbath.

"I want your personal protection that I will get out of the bloodbath," I say to them. "From both of you. And I want a pack of supplies with water and food."

"That's going to be a little hard to make sure you have, don't you think?" asks the boy from 2 annoyed. "I can provide the protection, but I can't be sure of the wat-"

"I don't want to hear excuses," I tell him surprising myself as the words escape my mouth. "I want to hear it's a deal. Otherwise, you're at the mercy of the other careers, and prison girl and her trusty lanky sidekick are not looking like their very forgiving people."

They look at each other nervously, and I clear my throat. "I hear 4 is in for murder," I tell them, not sure if what I'm saying is true or not. "At least, that's what my Escort said-"

"Fine!" says the girl from 1. "We'll make it happen."

"And how do I know if I can trust you?" I ask her.

"All we have are our words. I'm not just proving to you that I am trustworthy, but I'm also proving to Gerard," she says, looking at the boy from 2. "You have my word I'll hold up our end of the deal. You hold up yours, or it's off."

She extends her hand, and I shake it. "Deal."

Hazel Fowl, 15

District 7 Female

I can't like these people.

At the end of the day, these people are standing in between me and my life back home. I'm most likely going to have to kill one of these people, and I can't kill someone if I like them, and Emerson, Spike, and even Cullen are beautiful people.

Emerson is a theater nerd.

She writes whole stories and puts them on for friends and family in her District. She smiles, and she laughs, and you swear the entire room is lighting up, and let me tell you, the girl can sing.

Cullen isn't just some loud shrieker. He's a kid who, like Emerson, can also sing really well. He just wanted to go about living his best life, and without warning, life came and messed him up. Not to mention, everyone in the world now knows about his scream that can break eardrums.

And Spike. Oh my gosh, Spike for starters is gay, and that threw me for a whole loop. He talks about his significant other in such a way that gives me hope that if I can get out of here and find someone to love with the same intensity and passion as Spike has for his Damian.

And these people have lives and a family and friends, and I'm plotting ways that I can out survive them.

"Fuck it; this sucks," I say as I punch a dummy that I'm walking by. Emerson frowns at me as she reaches out and touches my arm. I jerk away quickly because I cannot have an emotional attachment.

"What's wrong?" she asks me.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I sit down on the carpeted floor and put my face in my hands. "I like you people. I don't like anyone, and my fantastic brain allowed me to sit here and like three people that I'm physically not allowed to like. I cannot have an emotional connection with you. I'm going into a fight to the death with all three of you in less than two days. Two days is all we have to be normal, and even then I'm practicing throwing a damn ax-"

"Breathe," says Emerson.

She places both of her hands on either side of my shoulders. She models how to breathe, but that makes it just as bad for me because she's doing exactly what I needed her to do! Why can't she just call me a bitch and tell me to shut up?!

But I do what she's telling me to do, because Emerson is a nice girl, and she doesn't deserve psycho freak out Hazel. She deserves a smiley, friendly Hazel who has to swallow her emotions even though she is going to have to kill her in two days.

Two days.

"This situation sucks, Hazel," she says. "I've been trying to figure out how to feel since I've walked into the Justice Building after I was reaped. No one should have to go through what we are, and I've been sitting here, finding it difficult to get out of bed in the morning, but here I am."

She sits criss-cross across from me and smiles that same genuine smile that she introduced to me just minutes after our first conversation. "It's a choice you're going to have to make, you know," she moves her head to get my eyes back on her. "Eventually, you're going to have to decide that your life is more important than anyone else's."

"I don't think-"

"No, you do," says Emerson dismissively. "I'm not mad at you for it. It's okay to do that. I've done that. Cullen, I'm sure has done that, and I know for a fact that Spike has decided he is important. Because, Hazel, at the end of the day, we all have a life back home. And no matter how awesome I think that you are, I miss my friend Maya, and I miss my mom and dad."

She's right.

"I believe it," I tell her. "And it isn't that I think I would sacrifice myself for you. You're not that special," I say, laughing at her. "I just am not used to feeling such a...community? And I'm scared because I don't like losing people, and I know that at least three of us are going to be gone. I'm just in my head. I'll move on, and I'll enjoy the relationships that we are all experiencing at bay."

"You want to know what I do in these moments?" asks Emerson. "A slumber party!"

"Cullen and Spike can come?" I ask her.

"Yes, we can call it a strategy meeting," she laughs. "We will just watch reality television and eat popcorn and bitch about how pretty the District 1 female is."

"Sounds like a plan," I smile.

Darren Memoria, 16

District 12 Male

If I have to listen to Madison try and cheer me up one more time before I go and inevitably die in the Hunger Games, I swear I might make the last thing I do stabbing her in the face. Our escort is disgusting and tries to be cheery in all things; Madison is so far up her own ass I think she knows what her shit taste like before she poops it out.

"Excellent, Madison!" says the trainer as I watch her stick another knife into the dummy while throwing it. Just my luck. I got the one girl in District 12 who can do something semi-good. Her abilities are nowhere near a passing level of accuracy, and compared to Dracula with her hood, she sucks.

But she's kicking my ass, and for that, I resent her.

I resent everyone in this room. They made this all possible, and as ditzy swings another knife into the direction of a dummy, I'm left especially hating her.

Because even in the face of the worst adversity I'm sure her privileged ass has ever faced, she smiles. She wakes up every day, and she smiles at me, the escort who's name I refuse to acknowledge. She smiles at the Avox, and the trainers, and anyone she greets on the elevator.

Why?

Why is she able to smile and have a good time, but I feel like my world is ending all over again every time I open my eyes? It's been one kick in the pants after another, and the more I try and fight it, the harder it gets for me to keep fighting.

"Darren?"

The voice.

I turn behind me and see her standing there. Her red hair shines in the light of the room, and her freckles that delicately were placed on her face send flutters through my stomach. She smiles at me, the same smile that people gravitated toward because she was so warm.

"Kathy?" I whisper.

She smiles at me and walks to the other end of the gym, and I run after her. She disappeared so long ago, and I'll be damned if I let her go again.

She smiles at me as she disappears into the male bathroom, and I chase her down as she walks into a stall leaving the door open for me to follow her in. When I lock the stall, she throws her arms around me and embraces me in a big hug.

"How are you here?" I ask her.

She was kidnapped. I remember, I paid a ransom, and then they never gave her back. She was dead. They found her body I remember it. There's no way she can be here?

A feeling of dread falls over me. Unless I'm losing my mind, that's the only explanation. Months of depression and grief have led me to start imagining my dead girlfriend. And I'm not mad about it because I miss her so much, and I think I deserve happiness even if it's just in my mind.

Right?

"I miss you," she says as she runs her hand through my hair. "Why aren't you with me, Darren?"

"I want to be," I tell her. "I want to be with you more than anything. You have no idea how empty my life has been without you in it, Kathy." I kiss her forehead, and she smiles at me. And kisses my lips. Even though I know I'm insane; I still embrace the fakeness of this kiss with a full chest.

"Come be with me, Darren. We can have our happy ever after. It just takes one step off the platform to early. Just one step, Darren."

"Doesn't dying hurt?" I ask her.

"I'll be with you. How can it hurt if you're with me, Darren? Our love is stronger than anything."

Except for kidnappers.

She grabs my face and forces me to look her in the eye. "Stop what you're thinking. Stop what you're doing. I want you to focus on me. I want you to be with me. Choose me. Love me. Stay with me!" she pleads, crying. "It's just one step, Darren. Just one little step! After everything I've been through, I just need you to take one little step!"

She sinks to the floor, and I grab ahold of her hand. "I'll take the step."

"Hello?"

A new voice takes me out of the moment, and I realize that I'm in the female bathroom. I open the door, and the girl from District 11 is standing there staring at me anxiously. Kathy is nowhere to be seen, and I'm once again alone.

"Are you okay, dude?" she asks me.

"Yes," I say as I run out of the bathroom and back to Madison throwing knives.

Chrys Suiki, 14

District 11 Female

That conversation the boy from 12 was having with himself was eighty pounds of yikes trying to fit into a ten-pound bag. I don't know if you've only ever heard half of something people are talking about, but it's unsettling, especially when he's talking to someone he loves.

"You look scared," says D as he watches me come out of the bathroom. "I saw the boy from 12 come running out of there. Did something happen?"

"I think I-" I begin to say, not sure how to word this to a twelve-year-old. "I think I just heard him planning to hurt himself."

D looks shocked and then frowns as he processes the words that have come out of my mouth. "Well, we can't let him do that," he says as he begins to walk toward him. He suddenly stops and turns to me. "But this is the Hunger Games," he frowns. "And I'm scared to admit that the thought of one less person to worry about is comforting." He shakes his head. "No, we have to go tell someone."

He begins to walk away, but I walk over to him and squat down to get on his level. "You have a beautiful heart, D," I tell him, "It's such a beautiful heart that you're unable to see things the way that someone like me can see them. The world hasn't robbed you of your innocence yet. You can't beat yourself up over this kid." I tell him, "He's a big kid. Older than both of us. He can make his own choice, okay?"

D stomps his foot on the ground. It's funny, I used to get annoyed when I'd see this in a grocery store or something, but when D does it, I don't get mad. D isn't a brat. He is strong, and he has mature opinions, but at the end of the day, D is a child.

We are all children here, Chrys.

"We are already probably going to die," says D. "I don't want him to have to suffer more and hurt himself when everyone else is probably trying to hurt him too." D is starting to get emotional, and people are watching us in interest. As much as I hate to admit it, I care about this little booger at this point. I can't let his chances get any smaller than they already are.

I grab him by the arm and lead him into the girl's bathroom.

"Chrys, you're squeezing my arm-" he begins.

"I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to listen to me good, D," his eyes widen at my sudden harsh expression, and he nods his head. "This is not a joke. These games are not a joke. In two days, one of us is going to have to die so the other can go home. I need you to understand that D. For you to get to go home, everyone in that room is going to die."

"Stop it!" he says.

"No!" I tell him. "No, I cannot stop it because I need you to have the best chance you can have in these games. And if I can't trust you to have your best interest in mind, I can't trust myself to have my best interest."

He tries to walk away, but I grab his arm and turn him around. "I need you to acknowledge what I'm saying. I need you to think about your mother, your grandma, your siblings, anyone in your family that you love, and realize that death is cruel, and it isn't like in a game. You don't just hit a reset and suddenly your back. When you die in this world, you're gone. In the Hunger Games, when you die, you're dead. Gone. No one knows what happens after that!"

He falls to the ground in tears, and I sink to my knees with him. I tear up myself as I realized how thick I laid on the tough love, but I need him to get his head in the game. I need him to have an understanding that this is real life because I cannot focus on myself if I have to worry about him.

And whether or not I like it, I am worried about him.

"Do you understand, D? This isn't a game, regardless of what they call it."

"Just leave me alone," he says as he jerks his arm away from me and walks out of the bathroom door.

I sink to my butt and cradle my face in my hands and begin to cry. At eight years old, I realized the world wasn't fair. At fourteen years old, the world is only proving itself to be more of a cold son of a bitch than I initially thought it was.

You can't worry about him if you want to get home, Chrys. You just can't.

But I do.

Happy training day 2! The reviews are fixed hallelujah and thank you to everyone who reviewed even though I couldn't read them! I read them all when they finally loaded! Here is the second training day? What do you think?

No one has won my contest yet. Keep those guesses coming! What bloodbath placement will Jenava get?

THANKS BRADILAIN for the COVER!

Alliances:

Loveable: Spike/Emerson/Hazel/Cullen

Careers+Psycho: Vanity/Royce/Hecate/Gerard/Kilee/Alon/Maeve

"We both using each other but it's beneficial to mostly Celio: Vanity/Gerard/Celio

Unofficial but implied: Jenava/Celio/Patrick

Tough Love: Chrysanthemum/D

What did you think?

Hope to hear from you soon,

Caleb