Artemisia Carnation-McIllroy, 12: District 3 Female

You should see me in a crown

I'm gonna run this nothing town

Watch me make 'em bow

One by one by one

One by one by

I wake up a little later than I usually do. I didn't really get a good night's sleep either. I just can't be cooped up in a single space for too long, and one night on this train has been more than enough. I hop out of bed and leave my room for the dining room, ready for breakfast. I notice that I'm the last person to wake up as Elecc, Nero, Mack, and Cordia are all sitting at the dining room table with a huge breakfast spread in front of them.

"You guys really started eating without me?" I ask, a little too loud for the time of day. Elecc jumps and accidentally knocking over his glass of orange juice. The glass shatters when it hits the floor, causing shards and juice to go flying everywhere. Two Avoxes rush over and start cleaning. Just as quickly as the mess was made, it was cleaned up. Elecc looks irritated, staring at me as I take a seat across from him.

"Sorry about that," I say.

"Just, don't be so loud," Elecc says.

I grab a plate and start filling it up with food. There are so many options. Pastries, eggs, sausage, bacon, and literally anything else I could think of. I start digging in, almost forgetting that I'm with four other people.

"Now that you've both had time to think about it," Cordia starts, snapping me back to reality. "Do you guys want to team up and be trained together?"

"Definitely," I answer. I look over at Elecc. He doesn't look too pleased.

"What's wrong, man?" I ask.

"I wasn't so sure about teaming up with anyone," he says, staring at his plate.

"I think it's best if you do," I say. "Two heads are better than one, right?"

"Arti's right," Mack says. "It can't hurt to give it a try."

"It'll be fun," I chime in. "I promise I don't bite."

Elecc laughs a little. I think he's warming up to the idea. That's good. I definitely don't want to go into the Games alone, and having someone from home on my side makes me feel a bit better.

"Okay, I guess," Elecc says timidly.

"Awesome!" I shout. "I promise you won't regret it."

"So, we watched the Reaping Recaps last night," Mack says. "Are there any other tributes you might want to team up with?"

"I was kind of hoping that it would just be me and Arti," Elecc says. My face falls. I was expecting to have a bigger alliance, but Elecc doesn't want one. I could just drop him and find my own allies, but it doesn't feel right since we just agreed to team up.

"Arti, is that okay with you?" Cordia asks.

"I can make it work," I reply.

"I'm sure you can," Cordia says. Wow, I'm kind of surprised that Cordia has faith in me. I was expecting her to doubt me, then I would prove her wrong. It's oddly disappointing that I don't have to, but I'm sure that I'll have my doubters. I can't wait to prove them wrong.

"We should be arriving at the Capitol this evening," Nero pipes up, startling me. Of course, Elecc jumps too. Nero had been so quiet that I forgot he was here.

"When we get off the train, there will be hundreds of cameras flashing and people will be shoving things at you for them to sign," he says. "Don't acknowledge them. It'll only hold you up from getting to your stylist."

Elecc gulps at the thought of having the spotlight on him. Man, he really doesn't like attention. I wonder why that is.

"Don't worry, Elecc," I say. "I'll shoo away the paparazzi. I'll even break a few cameras if I have to."

He laughs again. That's twice in the last ten minutes that I've made Elecc laugh. I think he's finally warming up to me.

"Thanks, Arti," Elecc says.

"Don't mention it. I've got your back," I say.

"I'll try to have your back too," he says.

"Oh, don't worry about me," I say. "I'm more than capable of handling myself."

"That's good to know," Elecc says.

"I'm sure Elecc will have your back on the off chance you do need him," Mack says.

"I don't doubt that," I say. "But I can save myself if I need to."

I hope Mack knows that I'm not just some helpless little kid. Just because I'm twelve doesn't mean I'm weak. I know what I'm doing. I know that I have all the skills needed to make it out alive. I might be young, but I'm not defenseless.

Cannoli Cartwright, 13: District 9 Male

Fine, electrify mine

Electrify my golden tooth

Can't look at your eyes

Without sparking some

I'm awoken by someone pounding on my bedroom door. Whoever is making so much noise obviously doesn't realize that it's way too early for all that ruckus. I don't get up, burying myself further into the covers. This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at home. I have no plans on getting out of bed. Whoever is trying to wake me up will literally have to drag me out. My eyes start to feel heavy again and I'm about to fall back asleep, but more pounding on my door keeps me up.

"Cannoli! Wake up before I come in there!"

Oh no, it's Tiller. He's been on my ass since we got on the train yesterday. He said he was going to help me, then proceeded to criticize me for my 'laziness' when I told him I didn't really do much back home. It's making me question whether he's trying to help me or whip me into shape. Whatever he's trying to do, I don't want any part of it.

"I'm going to give you 'til the count of three to get out of bed and open this door. If I reach three, I'm coming in," Tiller warns. Great, he's trying to threaten me now.

"One."

I don't move.

"Two."

Nope, still not moving.

"Three."

I hear the door open, followed by heavy footsteps approaching my bed. The covers are yanked off of me, exposing me to the cold of the air-conditioned room. I turn around and sit up in bed, looking Tiller in the eyes.

"What the hell, man?" I say, irritated.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Tiller asks.

"Too early to be awake," I reply.

"It's past noon!" Tiller yells. Right in my face.

"And I don't wake up until after 2 pm," I say. "Not everyone operates on your schedule."

"Well, while you're here, you'll be on my schedule," Tiller says. "Now get up!"

"Fine," I say. "Just chill out."

I drag myself out of bed and make my way out to the living room, where I promptly lay out on the sofa, planning to go back to sleep.

"Oh no you don't," Tiller says. He pulls on the collar of my shirt, forcing me to sit back up. "You're not going back to sleep. We're going to sit down and have a little chat."

I sigh audibly, dragging my feet as I follow Tiller to the dining room table. He and I sit down across from each other. He slides a plate full of breakfast food. I just look at him, confused.

"I thought you were mad at me," I say.

"I'm not really mad, just frustrated," Tiller says. "But I'm not going to starve you."

"Oh, okay," I say. I begin to slowly eat one of the pastries. It tastes so much better that the ones at the bakery. Suddenly, the question I should've asked my parents pops into my head.

"You hate me, don't you?" I ask.

"I don't hate you," Tiller says. "I'm just disappointed that you aren't putting any effort towards trying to survive. It seems like you just want to sleep instead."

"Why do you care so much about my survival?" I ask.

"It's my responsibility," Tiller says. I hate that word. Responsibility. Dad loves to throw that word around.

"Well, why aren't you helping me?" I ask.

"It's your responsibility to help me help you," Tiller answers. There goes that word again. I guess Tiller loves throwing that word around too.

"How do I help you help me?" I ask.

"Actually make an effort," Tiller days. "Don't just give up on yourself."

"Well, what's in it for me?" I ask. Tiller looks at me like I have five heads. I don't realize the absurdity of my question until he speaks again.

"Well, you get to keep living obviously," he says.

"Oh yeah," I say. "That was a stupid question."

"It's fine," Tiller says. "You're just nervous."

"I guess so," I say.

"Sorry for being so hard on you," Tiller says.

"Don't apologize," I say. "I needed it."

I think I still need it. Mom and Dad called it 'tough love' but I always interpreted it as them hating me. I guess getting it from Tiller changed things. If he didn't care about me, he probably would've just let me sleep. Once again, I'm surprised that someone cares about me so much. Well, at least there are three people who are worried about me.

Kaliah McFulton, 18: District 10 Female

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

I found out that everybody talks

Everybody talks, everybody talks

Being on this train with Kaven has been the most frustrating experience I've ever had. Not only is the kid stubborn, but he likes to argue about every little thing. Sometimes it doesn't even feel like he actually has a different opinion, he just argues for the sake of arguing. He reminds me of my ex, Brodus, he's just as problematic. I just hope he isn't as vengeful. I'll never forget when Brodus intentionally got me injured during cheer practice. He had one of our flyers intentionally land on me during a stunt. I ended up breaking my leg and had to quit the cheer team. I still haven't forgiven Brodus for setting me up like that. I don't think Kaven is smart enough to pull something like that off, so I just have to put up with him for the time being. However, my patience is wearing thin.

Enjoying what little time I have to myself, I kick my feet up on the coffee table and lean back on the couch, interlocking my fingers behind my head. I close my eyes and start to doze off. I'm almost fully asleep when I'm startled by a door slamming shut. I can't say I'm surprised when Kaven stomps out into the living room, disturbing my peace.

"Do you do anything besides being an annoying little prick?" I ask.

"I also knock people out for fun," Kaven replies. I try to keep myself from laughing but the fact that Kaven's implying that he could knock me out is too funny.

"Alright, shortstack," I say dismissively, poking fun at his height.

"I know you're not talking," Kaven says. "Out here built like a grown ass man."

"I'm more of a man than you'll ever be," I retort.

"Oh stop it, you two. Where are your manners?" Drusus complains. "Kaliah, get your feet off of the table. First it was refusing to use silverware, now this! You district folk are so uncivilized!"

"Or maybe you're just an overprivileged snob," I say. Drusus scoffs and holds his hand to his chest, shocked. Gosh, even his expressions are excessive.

"I am not a snob," Drusus says.

"Alright, Drusus, calm down," my mentor, Bovina says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Clint, Kaven's mentor, follows close behind.

"Yeah," Kaven interjects. "Before I punch your lights out."

"You need to calm down too, young man," Clint says. "You've been nothing but trouble this whole train ride."

"Shut up, you old fuck," Kaven says. Okay even I know that's too far. It seems like everyone agrees with me as well.

Suddenly, in a move that surprises all of us, Clint lunges at Kaven while pulling something out of his back pocket. For a man in his sixties, Clint sure does move fast. When he holds the object against Kaven's throat, I realize it's a switchblade. And it's not one of those cheap ones you see being sold back in 10. This knife is obviously well made and looks like it could do some real damage.

"Say it again, you stupid son of a bitch!" Clint yells. "I've had enough of your shit! You're gonna show me some fucking respect, dammit!"

Everyone is too shocked to move now. No one wants to intervene out of fear of getting cut by Clint. Kaven is completely at his mercy.

"I can't believe you have the audacity to be so insolent," Clint continues, bringing his voice down, but the tone is cold. He takes the knife away from Kaven's neck, but he doesn't put it away. "That temper of yours is what's gonna get you killed. From what I've seen, you can't even back up anything you say."

"But I can back it up," Kaven says. I roll my eyes. How stupid can this kid be?

"No you can't. You should've seen the way you froze up when I pulled my knife on you," Clint says.

"I didn't freeze up," Kaven says. "I knew you were bluffing the whole time."

"The way your eyes went wide said otherwise," Bovina says.

"Who even asked for your opinion?" Kaven asks. "Shouldn't you be mentoring Ms. Acts Like a Man?"

I burst out laughing. Kaven has to have the lamest insults I've ever heard. If I were actually insulted, I would be mad. But I can't take anything Kaven says seriously. Not even for a second. At this rate he'll be dead within the first five minutes.

Tomaz Wellflower, 12: District 5 Male

Now look at this

Madness the magnet keeps attracting me, me

I try to run but see I'm not that fast

I think I'm first but surely finish last

I still find it funny that Alice thinks she can intimidate me. Seriously, after having no reaction to her episode at the Reaping or her slapping me in the face, all while mentally dominating her on the way, you would think that she would get the memo. But I guess some people really are stupid, and Alice is a prime example. It sucks that Hal has to be her mentor and deal with her shit.

Speaking of mentors, I was supposed to meet with Ion an hour ago, but I haven't seen him at all today. I find it a bit suspicious that I was given the less competent mentor. It's become pretty obvious that nobody on this train has any faith in me, so they gave me Ion, who barely has any social skills. It's a little discouraging to think that no one really believes in me just because I'm young, even though I've been more mature than Alice this whole time. From what I can see, she isn't really concerned with surviving, but rather with exposing her father. I kind of understand that's where her anger comes from, but it's still misdirected. I was that way for a while when Isaac died, just mad at the world. My parents didn't make it any easier with their horrible treatment. I guess that's what's toughened me up. I learned to suppress my feelings for the sake of my own sanity. Alice never learned that, and I don't think she ever will. Deep down, I feel a little bad for her, but empathy hasn't gotten me anywhere.

I hear a door slide open at the end of the hallway. I perk up, hoping for Ion, but I'm once again disappointed to only see Hal. He's dressed very sharply. His silver hair and beard are well-groomed, and he has on a white shirt with a gray vest and pants, as well as black shoes. The watch on his left wrist looks very expensive, and reflects the light pouring in from the train windows.

"Hey, Tomaz," Hal says. "Have you met with Ion today?"

"No," I answer. "I don't think he's come out of his room."

Hal takes a seat next to me. He sighs and puts an arm on the back of the sofa. He isn't touching me, but the arm above me is making me uncomfortable. I'm hiding it well, since Hal doesn't seem to notice.

"Is there any reason Ion is so awkward?" I ask Hal. He strokes his beard, thinking of how he wants to answer my question.

"Ion's been through a lot," Hal says.

"So have I," I say.

"I know you have, but Ion's…different," Hal says.

"What do you mean by different?" I ask. That could mean a multitude of things.

"He doesn't like to talk about it, but he's autistic," Hal answers. Everything clicks now. One of my classmates is autistic. I've never heard him speak and he never has any expression on his face. He's kind of like Ion in a way, but Ion speaks.

"But I thought that means you couldn't talk," I say. "I've heard Ion speak just fine."

"Most people with autism can talk," Hal says. "They just handle things a little differently that the average person."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my curiosity peaking.

"Ion's never been able to navigate social situations very well," Hal starts. "He can't read people's tone or facial expressions. He also gets overwhelmed by loud noises, unfamiliar surroundings, and pretty much anything outside of his normal routine. He doesn't like eye contact either."

"But what has he been through to make him the way he is?" I ask.

"It started way before I even met him," Hal says. "He was tormented by his family and peers for not being 'normal'. He had no support at a time when he needed it the most. When I met him, he was already awkward, but he was a nice kid and ridiculously smart. He was desperate for any type of connection, so when his district partner teamed up with him, he would do anything to keep her around. The girl used Ion in the arena and left him to die after he broke his arm in a fight. I don't know how he did it, but he outlived everyone else and won after the girl from District 2 fell into one of his traps. Because that girl betrayed him, combined with his rough upbringing, Ion doesn't trust anyone but me."

"That's a lot to deal with," I say. "But how did you earn his trust?"

"I don't know," Hal answers. "That's a question for Ion."

Ion's story is difficult to understand from a logical standpoint. He didn't really lose anyone like I did, but he was tortured for something he couldn't control much like I was. I can understand that part, but there's still one burning question I have for him.

"I have to ask him," I say. Getting up from the sofa and making my way to Ion's bedroom.

"Tomaz, I don't think Ion wants to be bothered right now," Hal says, but it goes in one ear and out the other. I open Ion's bedroom door and see him standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, staring at the mountains we're speeding past.

"Ion," I call out. He startles a little, turning around. Our eyes meet for a moment before he looks down. "I have a question for you."

"I don't think I can answer it," Ion mumbles.

"I think you can."

"What is it?"

"Why do you trust Hal?"

"He treats me like I'm normal."

Alto Keenwood, 17: District 2 Male

Out on the front doorstep drinking from a paper cup

You won't remember this

Living beyond your years, acting out all their fears

You feel it in your chest

I can barely contain my excitement. Hestia said we should be in the Capitol in less than two hours. Of course, I'm looking forward to finally seeing the Capitol with my own eyes. It's been on my bucket list since I started training. But more importantly, I can't wait to get a firsthand look at my competition. I've seen all of them on television already, but I want to see them in person. It'll be fun to truly see how pathetic everyone else is. They're probably all already shaking in their boots at the thought of me. There are six tributes that are fourteen or younger this year. That means at least six bloodbaths. The older outliers aren't that much better, and neither are the other Careers. Everyone's an easy kill. I've got this Games in the bag.

I have the sponsors on my side too. The Capitol loves District 2. They also like strong, capable tributes, and this year I'm the only one who fits the description. Seriously, there are some real weaklings this year. The girl from 3 doesn't even look twelve. Preston's little brother is seven and he's bigger than her. I laugh thinking about the first time I saw her on screen. I was in hysterics then, and it's still funny now.

Speaking of funny, my sorry excuse for a mentor, Quintinus comes out looking absolutely stupid. He's wearing a red plaid shirt with suspenders, cuffed jeans, and a pair of brown boots. What really sends me is the pair of aviator sunglasses he has resting on top of his forehead, pushing his hair back.

"You're such a fucking dork," I say, holding back my laughter.

"I'm not a dork," Quintinus says. "I'm just a hipster."

"What the hell is that?" I ask.

"I don't think your mind would grasp it," Quintinus says. He walks past me and pulls out a can of what he calls 'craft beer' and pours it in what he calls a 'mason jar'.

"Oh please," I scoff. "I'm ten times smarter than you."

Quintinus nearly chokes on his drink, gulping it down before cracks up. I didn't mean for what I said to be funny.

"Alto, buddy," Quintinus says. "You're the least intelligent person on this train by a mile."

"Listen here, you little bitch," I yell, stepping closer to Quintinus, forcing him to look up at me. "You keep talking shit and I'll punch your fucking lights out!"

"We're resorting to threatening violence again, I see," Quintinus says calmly. Hestia, Minerva, and Ancatha come rushing into the living room to see what all the commotion's about.

"It's not a threat, it's a fucking promise," I say, bumping Quintinus with my chest. He stumbles a little. "Look at you, I barely even touched you and you're stumbling. You should've died in the bloodbath. You're the total opposite of what a victor should be. You're a total disappointment to District 2!"

"Alto, that's enough," Minerva says. I hardly hear her. She steps in, trying to separate the two of us.

"No, it's fine," Quintinus says, holding a hand out to stop her from getting any closer. "This'll be over soon enough."

"Yeah, it will be. And you'll be on the ground crying to your mother," I say, stepping forward, forcing him to back up.

"Go on then, what are you waiting for?" Quintinus says. "End it."

My eyes light up at the opportunity Quintinus just gave me. I finally get to beat the breaks off of him. I throw the first punch, planning on it being a haymaker. I put all my weight behind the punch, leaning forward. However, the punch doesn't connect. Quintinus dodges the punch while simultaneously grabbing my arm. He turns around and bends forward, pulling my arm with him. I flip over Quintinus' shoulder. My back meets the floor, knocking the wind out of me. A shockwave of pain shoots up my back. Quintinus' hand is on my chest, preventing me from getting up.

"I wouldn't have expected someone like you to go down so easily," Quintinus says.

"You broke my fucking back, you asshole," I say, voice strained.

"Suck it up, tough guy," Quintinus says. "I didn't even slam you that hard."

Quintinus lets up, allowing me to stand. I groan in pain as I use the coffee table to brace myself on the way up. When I'm finally upright, I limp back over to Quintinus, getting right back into his face.

"That was a total fluke," I hiss. "You're still a pathetic little bitch."

"Will you ever swallow your pride?" Quintinus asks. "Look at yourself, dude. You couldn't even stand up by yourself. How am I supposed to help you when you're so wrapped up in your own little world?"

"I don't need help," I snap. "Especially not from a punk like you."

"I'm starting to think you're a lost cause," Quintinus says.

"Whatever," I say. I hobble off into my bedroom, holding onto my lower back as I grimace in pain. Just before I close the door, I hear Quintinus whisper something to himself.

Hopeless.

North Freemont, 18: District 6 Female

Like brrap, brrap, brrap

Louis XIII and it's all on me, homie, you just bought a shot

Kamikaze if you think that you gon' knock me off the top

Shit, your wife in the back seat of my brand new foreign car

Don't act like you forgot

Junia, Taj, Garrett, Porscha and I are all sat in the living room for one final briefing before we get to the Capitol. The train ride has been bizarre to say the least. Our mentors have been nothing but helpful, Junia has been on my case just like I expected, but Taj is a different story. He's been off-putting to say the least. At the Reaping, the dude was practically crying. Now, every time anyone has tried to talk with him, he's completely brushed them off. Based on how he had been acting at the Reaping, I would've expected him to take all the help he could get. But no, Taj has probably spoken a total of three sentences since we got on this train.

"So, are you two excited to finally see the Capitol?" Junia asks.

"That's one word to call it," I answer.

"And you, Taj?" Junia presses.

"I'm excited," he says, staring straight ahead. His face is expressionless. I shudder and inch away from him. This kid is fucking weird. Nobody else picks up on my body language. Junia just keeps pressing on.

"When we get off the train, you'll be bombarded by paparazzi," Junia says. "Make sure you guys smile for the cameras and make a good first impression."

"They better not shove their cameras in my face or I'll break 'em," I say.

"As much as you want to do that, you can't," Porscha says. "That'll turn away the sponsors."

"I guess I'll try to keep my hands down," I say, just trying to appease Porscha.

"Going on, you'll go directly to the Remake Center to prep for your meeting with your stylist," Junia continues. "Then you'll be dressed for the Tribute Parade. That's your chance to really impress the sponsors."

"How do I do that?" I ask.

"You have to stand out," Junia says. "Don't just smile and wave, do something that will grab the crowd's attention."

"Don't do anything to grab the crowd's attention," Taj whispers to himself. I must be the only one to pick up on that because no one else reacts. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Somehow, everyone notices.

"Is there something wrong, North?" Porscha asks.

"Y'all can't tell me y'all aren't creeped out by this dude," I blurt out, pointing at Taj, who doesn't respond.

"What do you mean?" Garrett asks.

"Don't sit here and play dumb, bruh. You saw how Taj was acting at the Reaping, now he's just sitting here staring off into space. There's something obviously wrong with this kid," I say, trying to convince Garrett that Taj is a weirdo.

"North, Taj is right there," Garrett says. "He can fucking hear you talking about him."

"He hasn't responded to anything anyone has said," I say.

"I can still hear it, though," Taj says.

"So now you talk," I say. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You don't want to know," Taj says.

"Fine, I won't ask any more questions about it," I relent. "But are we allying or nah?"

"Nah," Taj says mockingly. "I'm not allying with anyone."

So much for district loyalty. I was kind of hoping that Taj would say yes to my offer. Ever since I joined the 6 Mob, I never did anything alone. I had become reliant on a group do get by, especially in fights. I can fight on my own, but I'd prefer to have at least one person backing me up. Good thing there are twenty-two other people that I can team up with.

That's something I haven't done in a while-making new connections. I've had the 6 Mob for nearly five years. I haven't had a need to meet new people. I had my gang, and they were the only connection I needed. I'll have to relearn how to make friends again. Maybe I'll be able to create my own little gang.

**SURPRISE**

You've reached the first submitter checkpoint. If you've submitted a tribute to this story, PM me the code word left at the end of this Author's Note.

Back at it again with another chapter! I'm a little disappointed in myself because I intended to get this chapter out within 48 hours after the previous one, but I got lazy. I suck, I know, but at least I got it out to you.

Questions:

Most interesting interaction?

Any more alliances forming?

Out of the mentors introduced in this chapter, who was your favorite and why?

Next chapter will be the Remakes and Tribute Parade. Finally we'll get to see some inter-district tribute interactions.

Until next time,

Ty

SNAKE