F8: ROSE TRINITY

It's the first time I've been able to last two whole days in this accursed arena and not have to worry about food. Of course, that'll change tomorrow, and of course I'm still a bit shaky from the fever, but the broth's nourishment was able to break the illness and I'm fine for the next day or so. I knock back the last few drops of broth and lean back against the heaps of stone. They're driving us together- it's the ninth day of the Quarter Quell and there are six of us left. They want at least a death a day now, or the Capitol will get bored. And I'm determined that death won't be mine. It's ironic that my will to live came in the most fatal place possible. The irony- to be even more ironic- is killing me.

I glance up again at the wall that the avalanche formed. It's almost twenty feet tall and a force field shines above is as blatant and glaring as the sun. I've tried to climb up the rocks, but they are rough and my hands are cut and swollen. Just holding the empty metal pot soothes my angry wounds. They're shallow, though- not any sort of infectious stuff is happening. And I haven't seen any tributes since I saw Gabriel- I blush. My most embarrassing moment is on camera and I can only hope Aurelia attributed it to my fever from the bad water. They won't, though. This is the Capitol I'm dealing with and all they want is drama. I groan inwardly.

Soon it's time to get on the move. The ground is slick from the rains last night and the treads of my boots are all worn down. There's no point keeping them on anymore when they're doing more harm than good. The trees will still offer good cover, so I yank off the ugly brown shoes. The thin socks all the tributes were given are, well, thin and mine are worn through in several areas already. A few steps into the forests and the bottoms tear away from their seams and leave my feet unprotected. I step on a stick and wince- this isn't working, but I haven't twisted my ankle within three steps of standing up like I did yesterday. That hurt. A lot. I curl my toes and pick my way from tree to tree, staying in the early morning shadows. At least my hair doesn't show anymore, since I've been stuck in the arena for over a week without any sort of bathing. My hair has turned brown like the dirt.

I tiptoe through the trees, slowly circling around the willow mountain. I can't risk climbing straight uphill with only one hand to hold onto the stones with, since my other is holding my boots. I have been trying to keep on the move, but the fever trapped me in the same place for almost two days. I got sick in the first few days of the Games, but I was just a little shivery until the fever decided to crank itself up. Now I'm determined to stay safe. No more big risks. Not with only five competitors.

The mountain slopes upwards and the willow trees sway softly in the light breeze. I'd like this place if it weren't designed to kill me. It's so calm here when teenagers aren't dying.

I say that with such abandon that I'm shocked. It's so commonplace to hear at home, on television- 'kids killing each other'. How horrific are we to use such a phrase without cringing in the awful absurdity of it? I've never really felt like trying, but now… now I need to live. I'm not going to be one of the forgotten. Not like the… what is it? About two thousand, two hundred and seventy-eight tributes that have been forgotten already? And then you add in the victors who have been forgotten and the total numbers of people destroyed by these Hunger Games add up to over three thousand- three thousand in one century. Three weeks annually. Three thousand people. What sort of society do I live in?

I pull my boots back on when I reach flatter land, but the socks are totally ruined and I end up ripping them out from inside the shoes. It's pointless keeping them. My feet are already starting to swell like my hands from the tiny cuts they've gotten and my boots are tight. In a few minutes it'll be painful to walk. I reach for the lowest branches of a slim willow and haul myself up. Anyone who passes won't expect a tribute to be in a smaller tree and the thick foliage will shield me from sight anyways. I'm invisible. Just like I am with my family.

I find a high branch that can support my weight and balance on it, looking down. A few hours of sleep before noon and then I'll be heading on my way again. I'm a full-time traveler now- no more nighttime adventures. I doze off with my toes pinched inside the boots and my arms wrapped around the trunk of the young willow. It really is more peaceful here.

I refuse to think the words again, but they appear in my dreams. I hadn't had a dream since I so stupidly volunteered, but after the chariot rides I've had them every night. And the faces that have been projected in the sky each night always feature prominently. I wake up in a cold sweat every time. Then the breeze blows in my face and I realize that I haven't woken up at all. My whole world is one giant night terror.

I hear some sort of shouts from not too far away and they sound angry. I leap off my branch and run as fast as I can. Gabriel was the last human contact I had and I am in no way interested in having human contact again until I get back home.

F11: EBONY ECHO

I range through the forest, my voice hoarse with calling. My gashes from the late Stavren Muxas have at least mostly healed, and I can walk and roam without bleeding. "Are you ready to dance, Marius?" Something grabs my foot and I slash at it with my crossbow. Oh wait- it's just a knobby tree root. I giggle as I wrench my foot from its grasp carelessly. What's the point in being careful now? I'm already hunting solo. "Marius! Come out come out, wherever you are!" I saw a boy earlier- tall and solid. That's Marius, definitely. He's my opponent. I've been following the direction of that noise since this morning- since I heard it last night.

Something slams into my eye. My blind eye. It irritates me that I can't use it but it can still feel pain. I drop my crossbow and paw at my vision for a moment. The wind itself seems to scrape at my face and sting my eyes. I can explain that, though. I haven't had sleep and my eyes are dilated. I blink away most of the pain and bend down to retrieve my bow.

"Ah!" My back cracks and some of the scabs do too. The blood seeps into my frayed tunic again and I gasp as I kneel. It hurts with a wracking agony all over again. I can't let my wounds stop me again. Marius is the most important now. I'm bent on finding my biggest enemy. He can't escape me. Not after his crime.

Somebody's near. I knew I was headed in the right direction. There's a slight breeze pushing the leaves to the east, but- there! - some leaves rustle in the wrong direction. I shoot a bolt into the trees and somebody yelps as it whizzes near them. A boy lunges from the underbrush and breaks into a full-tilt run away from me.

It's Marius. Why is he running away? Dancing is fun, but he doesn't know just how fun it will be. For me, of course. He won't like my dance at all. I skip after him as he tears haphazardly through the trees, his jacket catching on bushes and twigs and ripping off in chunks. I snatch each piece as I pass and use one of my crossbow bolts to shred it. I can't wait to do the same to Marius, after he hurt the girl. I wasn't there to save her, now I have to avenge her. Linley didn't want to die and he killed her- his district partner! Now I'll catch him and he will pay.

Does Marius have that light-colored hair? I thought he had darker hair, but it has to be him. "Turn and fight, Marius! I'm tired of running after you!" I spit after the figure I chase. The boy gasps his answer back at me.

"I told you, Ebony, I'm not Marius! He's at the Cornucopia! I'm Gabriel!" His voice is ragged and anxious- he should be afraid. I'm smarter than him.

"You can't fool me, District Four! Are you not a Career anymore? Turn and face me, boy!" The coward continues to run from me. I'll still get him, though. He's not particularly fast and I don't see any weapons on him. "Come heeere, Marius!"

"I'm not Marius!" the boy says, finally stopping and turning around. I narrow my eyes. We stand there for a moment, just staring at each other. Then I raise my bow.

"I'm not that stupid, Four. You killed Linley. Now I'm gonna kill you!" The boy doesn't show any knives or blades. "Where's that spear, Marius? Leave it with Linley when you killed her without a second thought?" The boy drops the pack from his shoulders and catches the point of my arrow on it, totally deflecting my swipe.

"I'm Gabriel, Ebony- from Six! Don't you remember that you were going to ally with me? Delilah and Scar and Alice and me? Then the Careers invited you over and you left- Delilah was really upset, don't you remember? Ebony, wake up! I'm not Marius! My district partner was Rosi- she died in the bloodbath! Marius killed MY district partner!" Come on, Ebony!" I snarl and swing at the boy with my fist. I clip his jaw and he staggers backwards. He's taller than me, but I'm much fiercer.

"Fight, Marius- FIGHT ME! YOU DESERVE TO DIE FOR WHAT YOU DID TO HER!" I scream and my voice cracks.

"Ebony, stop it!" Marius. It's Marius, no matter how he acts. His pack has slashes across the front, slashes that should be across his neck. As it is, Marius is rubbing his throat where I punched him. I always thought he would be stronger. I scream and my voice breaks, I can't even hear my shouts anymore as I shoot a bolt through the pack. Something seems to erupt inside the pack and liquid drips onto the ground. With one more stroke the contents of the pack spill and Marius, unbalanced, tumbles to the ground with them. There are three bottles, and another that's pierced by my bolt. Only three bottles of water? That's all he has? I prepare to shoot him. My triumph.

He lunges forward and I step back. Even in my rage I have enough sense to fear him. No matter what Stavren says, he's still got more kills than anyone and he's formidable.

He feints and I howl in frustration as he dashes off with one of the bottles. It's too terrible of a loss to lose my prey now and I charge after him. The boots are slick now on the thin dark mud and I slip. As my elbow knocks against a stone and erupts in pain, Marius runs into the trees. The pain ebbs and he's gone.

There. I haven't quite lost him. His footprints are visible in the mud and I swirl a finger around in one of the heels as I wait for the pain to totally dissipate. I can still dance.

F3: MIKHAIL FREY

Ebony screams something else about wanting to dance and Gabriel pounds off into the trees. Ebony falls and lies on the ground for a little while. I'm considering trying to jump from my perch and run when she struggles to her feet and follows the boy's heavy footprints into the distance. Her shouts and howls sound like a coyote as she pursues her misidentified prey. The noises fade slowly- excruciatingly slowly.

They're finally gone. Ebony's cracked now, all the way through and totally bonkers. Gabriel's as good as gone to me, now. The girl wants him dead and she plans to get what she wants. No matter what it takes, Ebony will chase her prey. As long as I don't have to kill again. When I attacked the spider muttation, it was in self-defense and I wasn't killing the actual person. It hurt me to see Wyndle's face in the sky, but I was sort of numbed to it. When Ira died, too, it hurt- but it was for self-defense. But it was a person. But I would have died if he hadn't. But he only even woke up because I killed Shaka. Because I killed a human being out of cold blood, without true reason, without a cause. I instigated the attack and I killed Shaka without a second thought. To me, in the heat of that terrible moment, his death or my insanity was the only options. And I don't know anyone who would choose insanity. Even the newest District Three victor- well, they won the Seventy-Sixth Games, so they're not that new- went insane and tried to choose death over craziness. The Capitol didn't like that, oh no. He is locked up twenty-four/seven now. I didn't want to become that, so I chose to become a killer instead. Now that my adrenaline and fury have passed… I think I'd rather be insane now and forget than stay coherent and remember how it felt when my knife entered the boy's flesh. My hand trembles and I grab my wrist to try and stop the shaking. It's no use- my whole arm has tremors now. The tears prick at my eyelids and I blink hard and fast to clear my vision.

He didn't need to die. I slide down my tree's trunk and stumble to where Gabriel's pack spilled. One bottle is empty and torn from Ebony's attack, but the other two are mostly full and perfectly fine. The liquid is clear and clean, and I'm thirsty- I'm drinking this water. I unscrew the cap of one of the bottles and tip it up to my mouth. Nothing comes out. I look irritatedly at the opening and find, much to my annoyance, you have to squeeze to get any liquid out. Helpful, yes, when someone drops their water and could end up spilling it all over the ground, but not as fun when a thirsty, starving tribute needs a drink, I squeeze a few drips out on the ground and then lift the bottle back up. The water… doesn't smell like water. I jerk the bottle away from my mouth and the stream of liquid falls on the ground and seeps into the dirt. I bring the lip of the bottle to my nose this time. That's definitely not water. It smells… like some sort of plant. It reminds me out autumn in the park back in Three. This is not water, and my guess is that what I hold is poison. I cautiously sniff the other bottle too- no discernible smell. I tilt it back and the cool water runs down my throat. These bottles could be useful, if I can remember to sniff before I drink.

My pack doesn't have enough room for both bottles- not even enough room for one. There are my knives and token in the way, the vial of mutt poison, and one empty vial. I fill that with water and hold the two smaller bottles up to the light. They look identical as well. Is all poison clear? I roll my eyes and shove the vials in my pack. I pour the tiny remaining bit of the water out on the ground and dump the poison too. I am not risking anything with that stuff. With my pack back on my shoulders, I set off again. I'm in the middle of a dense willow grove when the wind howls unnaturally and the long, trailing branches whip around my face. I fall on the ground and cover my face against the painful twigs whipping through the air. When I stand back up, the willows have rearranged themselves into a circle. Somebody is at the other end of the ring. As they stand and brush themselves off, I walk towards the tribute cautiously. They're much too small to be a Career, but I'm the youngest here aside from the boy from One.

It's him, Vulkin. He sees me and his eyes widen; the boy tries to break through the willows but they won't move aside. He turns to me in pure fear. "Please don't kill me," he whispers. My heart breaks.

"I won't hurt you. I want to get out of here, too. I can't hurt anyone else now." I try to speak as gently as possible, and while Vulkin Harris doesn't relax and trust me- who would into this situation? - he doesn't try and run away again. I take my knives and throw them away from me. The boy relaxes a little more. "Can we climb out?"

"Maybe." I hoist Vulkin into a tree, our momentary friendship held by a mutual fear of death. He scrambles upward for a few meters and then he can't move any more- the branches are too dense to break through. He works his way back down to the ground.

"They won't let us leave until one of us is dead," the boy says darkly.

M1: VULKIN HARRIS

It has to be Mikhail. I still have to keep my promise for Fala. I still have to get home for both of us. The girl's eyes show that she has realized the same. But she doesn't charge for her knives at all. I hesitate. I was going to go for the blades as well, but what's the point. I start when Mikhail steps forward and picks up the knives. I raise my fists. Going down without a fight is not the way I'm going to die. The girl scoffs. "Don't worry, District One!" She pokes them through the tiny gaps in the willow trees. We are both defenseless.

Mikhail settles in a small circle of grass; she sits cross-legged and rests her head in one hand. "So, what now? Neither of us is strong enough to snap a neck," she sighs. I grit my teeth and tackle her, but she pushes me off and simply sits down again. "Why don't we stay here? We're safe as long as we don't attack each other."

"We need food, Three! My sister died and I need to see my family again!" Mikhail stands and seems to grow to five times her size. With tears forming in the corners of her dark eyes, Mikhail screams at me.

"I've killed, Vulkin! I have three kills now! I killed Wyndle Syne's muttation and I killed Ira Spark when he attacked me! And worst of all…" the girl can barely speak coherently through her sobs, "… I killed Shaka Aastor in cold blood, boy! For no reason, that boy died! I DON'T WANT TO KILL YOU, VULKIN! DON'T YOU GET IT? I DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU!" Shocked, I sit back. This thin, wispy girl, only two years my senior, has killed one-eighth of the competitors? And she isn't even trying to take down another? I pat her on the back. It's awkward.

"Then you don't have to." I can finish her off now, in her moment of depression, release myself from these trees, and get further home. It's brutal, I know, but I was raised to think like this. And I've let my self-control die with Fala. Ironic, though, that I know that.

Her eyes meet mine. They're full of fury. "You think you could kill me with your bare hands, Vulkin Harris? If you can do something like that, where's your sister, huh? Why isn't she here with you? Don't you have weapons? I saw her take a pack from the bloodbath."

"We did, and you'd be dead by now if I still had them. My pack's outside the willows. And don't talk about my sister, you murderer!" We've both hit each other where it hurts.

"You don't know how much that name hurts now that it's true," Mikhail whispers. She hangs her head and doesn't even notice when I dig through her pack looking for other weapons. All she has is two bottles of water and a dragon necklace. I put back her necklace and set the water in between us when I return to my previous place.

"Well, we'll be here for a while. Drink up!" Mikhail doesn't even seem angry when I unstop one of the bottles. She just raises her red-rimmed eyes for a moment and says something quietly. "What?" I lower the vial.

"That might kill you. One bottle is poison, the other is water." I grab the other bottle and hold both of them up. They look identical. Then I have an idea.

"Mikhail, do you want to get out of here?" She brushes her hair out of her eyes.

"Well, yeah, but how? One of us has to die for the other to escape."

"Would you be willing to take the risk? I am." She laughs harshly.

"Well, it's better than starving to death in here."

"I think I know how to get one of us out without making the other feel guilty and go insane like the Games are designed to make you do." The girl becomes interested.

"I accept your battle of wits, Vulkin Harris." I guess you could call it that, but it's more a game of chance. I place the two bottles in front of me and Mikhail's eyes widen as she realizes what I intend to do. "One of us is drinking poison, then?" I nod gravely. It's up to fate now, and I'm pretty sure I can guess which one is which. Mikhail wouldn't have warned me if I was drinking the real poison, I bet. She knows. What a sneak! She just wants the water for herself and wants me to get confused and die!

"May the odds be ever in your favor, Mikhail Frey," I say. I meant it as a quasi-joke, but she nods nervously.

"You pick first," she says. Without hesitation, I snatch the one I hadn't taken before. Mikhail's hand trembles as she takes the other vial. She know she's gonna die, and now she can't say anything without exposing herself to the Capitol and dying disgraced.

This is the way District One has taught me to think. "One… two… three!" I say, and we tilt back our vials. Mikhail shakes so badly she almost slops the liquid out of the vial onto the ground.

The burning liquid slams down my throat and I choke. Mikhail doesn't seem to be experiencing any ill effects. I got the poison. Mikhail's trembling- she didn't know which was which. I had the water before and she would have saved me without knowing it. I rasp and sputter and the girl wails as I keel over. The willows move aside in the background of my vision and Mikhail screams over me instead of leaving. She will be counted for my kill.

"I'm sorry, Fala," I hoarsely whisper. I start to twitch and tears catch in my eyes. I'm paralyzed. Mikhail calls for me to stay, but it's far too late. It was my idea, my choice. I overthought my own problem. At least it doesn't really hurt.

M6: GABRIEL GROW

"Marius?" Ebony's voice creaks into the afternoon light. I press myself deeper inside the little cave. "Somebody died, Marius! Five left! We've made it to the top five- that's too good for you! Come out now, Marius, and it'll be easy for you!" I'm tempted to tell her again that I'm not Marius, but I've almost lost my voice from the failed attempts to do so. Ebony's voice is rasping as well. She may be tired, but she's still got the upper hand. I am not confronting her yet. Not while that crossbow is still in her hands. Maybe, if she doesn't lose me, I can lead her to Marius? I'd rather lose her, though. I tried when I doubled back and passed over solid rocks- I saw someone walk in a river to get someone off their tracks, but the only body of water is that black lake and I'm not going there. I even managed to scale a tree and use its far-reaching branches to climb across to another tree. I almost fell, too. When I hit the ground, Ebony found me again. How hard is it to throw a crazy girl off your tracks?

The cave is uncomfortable, but I still can scrunch myself into a corner and not be seen from the entrance. "Marius?" Ebony calls wildly. She's closer than before. "Come out, boy! You're afraid! Careers, aren't afraid, right, Marius!?" I gulp and suddenly there's no more noise. Ebony isn't moving at all. Is it possible for someone to hear your heartbeat? Because I think she just heard mine. Now it's too dangerous to try and shuffle further into the dark corner, in case a pebble or something comes loose or my shoes scuff across the rocks. Then a twig cracks outside and I freeze, inadvertently holding my breath. Ebony laughs, a croaking sound that seems like the personification of insanity is laughing. Then her footsteps echo just above my head. A few more steps, and her silhouette blocks out the afternoon sun that streams into my hiding place. "MARIUS!" I cover my face with my hands. How stupid was I? I can't escape now! "WHERE ARE YOUUU?" I'm still paralyzed with terror, but I don't release my breath. She hasn't found me- even though I'm still not Marius.

The silhouette turns its head to one side and Ebony smiles, white teeth shining against her shadowy profile. Adding to her image of craziness, her strawberry-blond hair has long broken free of its ties and blows around her head like a lion's mane. I can only watch in horror as Ebony Echo of District Eleven steps into the cave. She walks like a cat, testing the ground before she puts her foot down and walking in silence. I'm dead terrified.

"Marius…" Ebony hisses. My heart thumps and my stomach clenches in fear. The girl turns around and tilts her head to one side. "Are you in here, District Four?" I close my eyes. The footsteps echo. "Marius?" I think she's left and I open my eyes. The cave is dark and I can't see anything. The sun streams in as it had before. I allow my breath to escape… and Ebony emerges from the shadows on the other side of the cave. "Is that you?" Her menacing steps advance. Is there even a chance that she doesn't know I'm here?

Ebony pauses right beside me. Her hand brushes against the stone wall not three inches from my face. She whirls around. "AHA!" No- she was just trying to see if anyone else emerged. You can never tell, with insane people. She slumps against the wall and her foot hits my ankle. I cringe- it's all I can even manage to do in my fear. She doesn't even notice that my foot has more give than the wall. I can't breathe for real now, or else she'll figure out that there's someone right next to her. Someone she thinks is her worst enemy.

After an eternity, Ebony stands and seems to think there's nobody in the cave but her. Her silhouette blocks out the sun for two seconds more and then she's gone. I've lost her for real this time. I take a deep breath and bring my knees up to my chin. The cameras can't see me here; I can be myself for once. I set my forehead against my knees and cry. Where the cameras can't see me. Where Ella can't see what's happened to me. I'm alone for once as Ebony's daft footsteps drift away. And I cry.

Five left. One died today- one more teenager who never deserved to die. Nineteen have died so far and four more will die before one is set free. Everyone wants that one to be them and only one will get their wish. Everyone thinks that it will be them- except maybe Ebony. She just wants Marius dead now. But are any so determined now? I know I am. Marius is probably messed up over killing his district partner. Ebony… well, Ebony's just cracked. The girl from Three I have no idea about, I haven't seen her since the bloodbath. The boy from One is an unknown factor, too. And Rose, from Eight- she's probably determined too, after I helped her. I hope I didn't create my worst enemy. I never want to run into Rose again; we won't be able to hurt each other.

I wait for my eyes to dry completely before I wear a mask and return to the world of cameras. Ebony is nowhere in earshot or sight. I turn on my heel and begin to walk in the opposite direction from the entrance of the cave. It might take me towards the Cornucopia, or take me into a collision path with another tribute, but as long as Ebony doesn't find me again for a while, I'll be fine.

M4: MARIUS DYLAN

I've heard Ebony today- calling for me. I heard her scream in agony yesterday, before the avalanche. I saw Stavren die in front of me. I killed Linley. I found my mutt. Only four more have to die. Shoalle would be so proud- her and my parents would see me on my own. That's why the Games are so popular in the Career districts. You get out of poverty, get famous, and everyone at home can see you and understand you. If you don't want that and you fear death, you don't volunteer. In Panem, though, where you starve and die a long, suffering death, a quick death is much easier and you could end up as world-famous. Then you fade and you spend the rest of your life in relative ease and obscurity. It's very simple. Until, of course, you get stuck in the Games. It gets harder then.

The last few weapons are lying there, ripe for the taking. I can't let anyone else have them- even with no other classic Careers left alive, the other tributes could prove themselves as formidable opponents if they have weapons. I smash the two swords, three pickaxes, and the axe against the base of the Cornucopia. I've learned from experience that the main gold structure is too weak to break the metal. After the blades are broken, I pick through the pieces and smash any that are large enough to use as knives. I step over the shards carefully and lift the two stuffed backpacks. I've decided to move my stuff to the lake now, since it's guarded by my mutt and I have no cause to stay in the directly open area.

The two packs are very heavy, but I only have to move them a short distance. I heave both of them over my shoulders and strain my way towards the black water. It's the most strenuous task I've completed in the Games so far- I'm sure the final battle will be a bit harder, though- especially if it's against one of the two seventeen-year-olds left alive, Ebony and the boy from Six. I'm better trained than either but age often gives a small advantage. Besides, age is the only reason Reetan made me be co-leader of the Career pack. If I was eighteen I would have been sole leader.

I drop the two packs on the lake's black shore and sit down beside them. I'll set up the tent when the anthem plays- the crocodile proves very useful for scaring anyone away from the already forbidding black water- mutts included. I have already seen the ferret here twice- the first time I missed it with my spear and he second time it had already seen me and it was tearing off into the forests twenty feet away. Now I'll be right here when it comes- down and ready to catch and kill. No matter what I realize about my world here in this arena, I was raised a Career and it will take more than a few days for that breeding to collapse and make way for my abhorrence of the Capitol and the Hunger Games. They're nasty- we know that already- but Four is full of kids who are raised to fight to the death. Sure, the awful realizations will sink in permanently, but it takes more than an overnight epiphany to make them stay. It takes killing your district partner, grieving, recovering, and then the truth remains with you. But that takes time and thought to do, which the arena does not allow you to have. I'll probably go crazy when I get home. Just wait until I have to mentor for the first time.

I swipe my dark blonde hair out of my eyes and look around. Nothing. I can't stand being inactive, so I pull the tent out of my second pack and start setting it up on a flat boulder that dips into the lake on one end. The spine of the tent is a little hard to set up correctly on such a smooth, hard surface, but I manage with a little perspiration. Soon the tent is all set up and I toss my stuff inside. Then I slide to the end of the rock and tear my boots off my feet. When I dip my aching, sore feet in the water, bubbles erupt from the other side of the lake and the crocodile's armored tail breaks the surface. I'm nervous as the broad back drifts over to me- death by crocodile is very painful, I've heard. But the beast doesn't attack its human counterpart. Instead, its long claws clatter on stone and it hauls itself out of the water and into the warmth of the setting sun. The creature must be at least twenty feet long, yet it curls up beside me- well, stretches out beside me- and starts to act like a giant reptilian puppy. Its scaly sides rise and fall as it breathes and I do the only thing natural to me. I reach out and pet it.

Did I just get electrocuted? No- my skin isn't charred or anything. The crocodile stirs a bit, and the muttation sense in the back of my mind tingles like crazy. Yeah, the croc is mine, but now it's completely verified. The beast laying beside me so tamely… it attacked the ferret, or at least tried to. This monster was grown from my blood.

I feel quite proud, actually. If some muttations turned out as giant slugs or tiny bats, I'm glad mine is so dangerous and powerful. It gives me hope. Aside from the elephant, the crocodile was probably the biggest mutt that was in the arena. And it's mine.

The sky grows dark and the crocodile slides back into the water, leaving me with a strange sense of serendipity. The anthem plays and the youngest tribute remaining, the boy from One, has died. I feel sort of bad, actually. Ever since Linley died the deaths have been harder and harder to pass by without mourning. So many lives cut short too soon.

IN DISTRICT ONE: BRONWYNN HARRIS

I hadn't even found out about my poor twins until I watched the recap of the reapings with Corey and his newest girlfriend Yvette. I had assumed they were out playing, like they usually are, but then they both were reaped. I cried, but Corey was oddly silent. He's never been a very good older brother to little Vulkin and Fala, but I expected him to show some emotion. He only said he had seen them earlier and talked to them then. Isn't it odd that both tributes from One were non-volunteers?

"Yeah, Fala took your pearl as a token," Corey had said. Now I have seen Vulkin take that pearl from his precious sister's dead body and place it with my late husband's wedding ring in his pocket. Now my son- my darling boy, only thirteen- challenges the trembling girl from Three to a battle of chances, and he took the wrong risk. I scream and so does Vulkin's opponent. I relate to the killer over my son's corpse. Am I that terrible? I cry, but Corey, again, remains silent. Is he smiling?

No. I am not the terrible one here. I stand and face my last child. "Get out of my house, you… you… YOU ARE NO LONGER MY SON!" I scream at the stranger called Corey who sits on my couch. His jaw drops and he doesn't even move until I shove him. He is not my son.

6th: D1M Vulkin Harris