Mabel Colton

District 10

I'm exhausted.

I tried to sleep as ḿuch as possible last night and I thought I did. Despite that, I feel like I haven't slept an hour. I had to drag myself out of my bed to breakfast, and even then I needed to force myself to eat. It feels like my body has begun to shut down, and I hate it. I still have so much to live for.

I look over my surroundings, a simulated river in a large pine forest. Despite the beautiful nature, the illusion is instantly shattered once you step on what you expect to be comfortable moss and is met with the cold hard ground. But the ice-cold water is still very real, which they told us about when we started the class.

I look around me at the other's who took the fishing course. Paul followed me, apparently bored with slicing dummies with whips and trying to get allies. But there's one more, the muscular boy from 9 who I couldn't remember the name of. His face is wrenched in concentration as he takes everything that the instructor tells us.

On the last training day, the trainers told us that there would be classes on different subjects that could be of use to us. Some classes were more popular than others, with the fishing course on the lower end of the scale. I still thought it could be useful since I wasted most of my days practicing snares.

And despite that, I still feel I know as little as I did on training day one. Every time I finish a trap it's just as bad as my last one and I lose my motivation to continue; so I just move on to the next snare and repeat. Not that I have a chance anyway. I'm a dead woman walking.

No, no, no Mabel you can't have those thoughts again. Those thoughts started returning after I thought they were gone. Gone after I met Jack, the hopelessness I felt whenever I was with my family. The complete lack of motivation to do anything, to feel that I wouldn't bother if I didn't wake up that night.

But I have Jack. I still have Jack. I can still live for Jack. I still have Jack. I need to have Jack.

He gave me a purpose, a purpose that I had lacked. With his help, I found friends or at least beginnings of a friendship with William's cheese shop and his customers.

I clench the horse charm in my hand. My token that Jack gave me. My reminder how much left I have to live for. The wood burrows into my hands, but it has an odd warmth around it. Maybe I'm just imagining it. But then I would like to keep imagining.

"Finding a good fishing spot is an art in itself. This river is a good example of what an exemplary spot should look like. Close to the trees so food can easily drop into the water and a lot of bugs, which you can probably distinguish from the constant buzzing. Combine this with the intense water you have the perfect habitat for salmon. And that's exactly what we're about to learn to fish today," the instructor says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

The boy from 9 nods in acknowledgment, while Paul seems to have lost interest in the class and is distracted by a simulated pile of leaves. He tries to kick it, but his shoe just goes through it. His face wrenches in frustration, but at least his attention is back to the trainer.

The trainer picks up a large net from the pile of equipment next to him.

"The best way to catch fish in the arena would be a fishing rod, but we will learn about that later. You're not guaranteed to be able to have a fishing rod at hand so a fishing net is a good second choice. Please take the equipment from this pile and do as I explained before."

I walk over to the pile of equipment and grab what I think I needed. A shuttle, a small and long wooden rectangle that goes over to a triangle on the top and inside it two symmetrical holes, that goes together close to the triangle. A wooden rectangle that is apparently called a gauge and a long rope.

The District 9 boy finishes almost instantly with his preparations and takes a seat in the grass a few meters away. Paul looks at the pile for a minute before choosing the same equipment as we do. But he doesn't bother moving and just takes a seat next to the pile.

I cross my legs and look down on the pieces, feeling my mind already starting to fleet away. I think I was supposed to put the rope around the shuttle?

Paul curses while throwing his shuttle away from him, bouncing on the ground. "Why the hell does it need to be so complicated? It's just a net! Just make knots or something!" He growls and kicks the ground, most likely expecting to kick up grass, but hits that hard ground instead. His faces cringe in pain but quickly recover to the same focused expression he always has. "This is useless!"

"Then why did you sign up to this anyway?" I mutter.

"Because I thought it would be an easy way to get food," he hisses. "But I'm going to be killed before I even have made this stupid wood thing!"

He turns around towards me, his eyes fixing on my rope and the shuttle. "How do you do it anyway?"

I look down on my hands clutching the rope. Why does this matter anyway? I don't have the determination Paul has. I can't even make a net. I signed up because I thought it would be an easy way to get food, but if I can't remember this when in the games it would all be a waste. It doesn't even feel like I have a purpose. It feels like my body is shutting down.

"How do you make a net?" Paul repeats his questions, a hint of frustration in his voice.

The boy from 9 glances over towards us, but remains seated.

"I don't know," I finally reply, with my normal monotone voice.

Irritation flashes in his eyes and for a second I'm afraid he will retaliate, but he simply nods and goes back to pick up his equipment.

I blink a few times just to clear my mind, before returning to my work. I'm about to ask the instructor for help when I hear someone else behind me and I notice the boy from 9 approaching me. I quickly start to look concentrated on my net so I will look busy and he will take the hint to ignore me.

"You don't need to fake it, I know you don't know."

I look up to the large boy who is smiling at me. Not an ill-intent smile, but a warm one. Despite that, I can't help but feel intimidated by the sheer size of him and how close he is. My mind is still racing to try to determine if he's trying to mock me or-

"Don't worry, I'll help you," he says and reaches out with his hand towards me. I complement for a few seconds before reluctantly giving him my rope and shuttle.

The boy grabs my shuttle and suddenly his face wrenches in concentration. He lays the shuttle flat on his hand and puts the rope on top of it. But before he starts he nods at me to watch what does and I stand up so I can get a better view.

"I'm Anthony by the way," he mutters to me. I nod in response.

I put a hand on his shoulder and watch over it as Anthony loops the rope around the center stick. He picks it up and drags to the back of the shuttle, which he then returns to the center again.

"And you just repeat that until you have a good amount of rope. Got it?" he asks.

"Yeah," I answer, despite having a bit of a hard time following him. Maybe it's exhaustion. Maybe something else. All that I know that I feel a warmth around him, the same warmth I feel with Jack. It's not love, god no, I'm loyal to Jack. But the same feeling of safety and protection, the feeling that I'm not in danger anymore. Something is telling me that he won't be the one killing me.

He smiles at me. "Great! Just ask me if you need any more help!"

He gets up and returns to his seat. I look down on the shuttle and try to replicate what Anthony did, with varying success. Eventually, I'm able to get the catch of it and I let a smile form on my lips.

I suddenly think of Paul and how he struggled with the net. I look around for him, thinking I could help him. The roles switched for once at least.

I turn towards Paul. "Hey, Paul..."

I'm surprised when I see that he already is looping his rope around the shuttle, exactly like Anthony showed me. "Did you ask the instructor of help?"

Paul gives me a glare. "Of course not. It really doesn't take a genius to figure it out. They wouldn't make the wood thing this way if it wasn't supposed to be used like this," he says. "Do you need help or what?"

I'm a bit caught off guard by his offer. "Anthony showed me."

"Sure then," he replies and goes back to work. "I'll help if you need it."

Despite his aggressive exterior, I can't help but feel like there's more to him than just that. It might be buried, but weirdly, he has the same warmth as Jack and Anthony. Just not in the same way. For some reason, I know he won't be my killer.

I return to my place but I move closer to Anthony, in case I might need more help. And he's just enjoyable to be around.

He whistles as he uses his gauge and shuttle to weave his net, already multiple steps ahead of me.

"How can you be so happy? Aren't you worried?" I ask, still surprised by how carefree he is. We're most likely going to die after a few days after all.

He's a bit caught off guard by my question, but answers: "Well, of course, I'm worried. I would be a fool if I was not. But I would rather worry when I'm alone. Now, I need to focus on training so I can win. And I'm also happy whenever I think of what will wait for me when I come home."

"What do you mean?"

Anthony bellows a laugh. "I mean my friends and family. Especially my sister Melody. The purest person in the world and the last girl who deserves to live her life without a brother. It's for her I will fight with my claws and fangs for the victor crown. Don't you have someone to come home too."

"Yes," I reply. "Jack. My boyfriend." I realize I'm blushing and I turn away. Despite that, it felt good. Having such casual emotions again.

Anthony laughs again, a warm laugh. "Well then, that's someone to motivate you until the end. Just hang in there and think of him whenever you're feeling hopeless."

He pats me on the back and I almost fall forward from his strength, but I can't help but smile if only a small one. He's right. Jack is truly someone to fight for. I think this session helped remind me of that.

I look up and my eyes fall on the girl from 1. Her icy-cold eyes are the exact opposite of Anthony and Paul. The only thing they do are making me worry and she seems like the exact kind of tribute who would kill me.

Despite that, it feels good to be between two humans who don't want me dead. They have the same kind of warmth as Jack, only that Jack is so much warmer. Whenever I feel like giving up, just clutch my token tighter and think of him.

I put my hand over the rope to take it when I can almost feel Jack behind me, putting his hand on top of mine and them intertwining together.

"Together."

It's barely a whisper.

Ever "Evander" Adams

District 8

"Damn."

"Are you okay?"

I look up at Roark, who is crouching on top of the agility tower. I try to sit up, but a sudden flash of pain stops me.

"Ouch," I mutter as I lay on my back, staring up in the ceiling. Despite getting the wind knocked out of me when I landed, I have mostly recovered even if I struggle a bit with breathing. But the ceiling lamp looks very nice from here. Not much else to look at when it feels like your back is broken.

"That doesn't look good," Roark says and cringes. "Can you move?"

"Yeah, but barely," I shout back. "It doesn't seem too serious thankfully."

Roark tilts his head the same way he always does whenever he's worried, which he is way too often by the way. Way too worried about an ally he's most likely to lose in a few days. Both of us have the odds against us, but I'm not the one to give up. I do hope Roark will realize this sooner than later because he's worried about the wrong person.

"Can you move?"

"A bit. I doubt anything is broken though. It doesn't hurt if I lay still."

Roark raises an eyebrow. "We should get a medic for you."

I cringe. "No need to. It'll be over soon."

"But what if it doesn't?" With that, Roark turns around and jumps down the tower, landing with a somersault. Things like that remind me that despite only being 14 and reaped, he has still trained in District 2. The same thing that made me ally with him.

If this wasn't the hunger games, Roark would've been a good friend. He's a good kid. But he has to learn that it won't work in the games.

After a few minutes, Roark comes back with a medic running beside him. I try to sit up again, this time having a much easier time and the pain is mostly gone. The medic checks to make sure there's no lasting damage before leaving. I massage my back, it still aching.

"Didn't the air bed cushion your fall?" Roark asks while lightly kicking the mattress.

"It did," I answer. "My back would have been broken if it wasn't there."

I look up at the tower from where I fell. It's one of the highest parts of the agility course, so no wonder it hurt so much to fall from it. You were supposed to grab on the ledge of the tower but didn't have enough velocity to make the jump. Probably because I slowed down before to make sure I would make the jump, exactly the opposite what Roark told me.

If I'm being honest, I'm not exactly eager to return to training after falling. But it's necessary since it's our biggest chance of survival. If we can get away fast enough we both should be able to survive by simply outlasting everyone else.

Roark shrugs. "Should we try something else or?"

"We can continue with the agility course. I'll just have some water first," I say. Roark smiles as we fist bump before we part ways.

When I make my way to the drinking fountain I silently curse to myself.

Don't get attached Ever. Only one of you will survive.

Being friendly isn't necessarily bad. It can be good to gain Roark's trust, but it can backfire just as easily. The worst-case scenario is that I would start sacrificing myself for him. That is something that I would rather avoid. But friends can be just as hard to lose as to gain. I can only hope my determination is enough to steer myself away from stupid thoughts.

I start drinking from the fountain when I notice Remus walking past Roark. Roark immediately looks down and tries to look busy. Remus doesn't even notice him. Neither of the careers seems particularly eager to scare outlier this year. I even doubt they would pay much attention to us weaker tributes, which Roark needs to understand. He will be doomed if he freezes in the bloodbath. It's better just to bury the fear until we have made it out the bloodbath.

I return to Roark and he smiles when he notices me. "Let's continue," I say, which he nods in reply.

We go up to the start of the agility course, a giant climbing wall. Roark doesn't hesitate and starts running up the wall as he has already done this a hundred times. I try my best to keep up with his speed, but it's basically impossible. I always make sure that my foot is steady before I continue upwards. While it takes away from my speed, it's at least better than falling down. The most it will do if I fall here is it will hurt a little and I can start again. However, if I fall in the games there won't be a second chance.

Roark is up way before me and throws out his hand to help me. I smile and take it. He helps me up and we take a few seconds catching our breath before we continue.

The next stage is pillars where you're supposed to jump between them. The distance between them keeps increasing the farther you get. This is where Roark's talk about velocity is important.

Roark speeds away and I follow him. I try to make each step a jump, just like Roark. It doesn't exactly work and I'm only halfway through the stage when Roark reaches the end. He stops, but I gesture at him to continue. He takes the hint and continues with the course by climbing the hanging rope.

Once I reach the end I take a few seconds to catch my breath. Roark already a good a bit ahead of me. If I'm being honest, I expected the gap between us to be bigger when I first allied with him. He immediately grabbed my attention when I first saw him. I never expected to have many allies and had mostly just planned on attempting to ally with the younger tributes. But Roark was a realistic candidate that could be extremely useful.

I wouldn't be honest if I said I wasn't disappointed when he revealed that he dropped out of the academy rather quickly. I was expecting career-in-training, but he was physically stronger than many other 14 years old I have seen and he seemed to trust me completely so I had nothing to lose.

After all, beggars can't be choosers.

I take the rope, the next stage, and start climbing up. It's a bit more exhausting than I expected, but once I come to the top I notice Roark waiting for me.

"This is where you fell, isn't it?" he asks and points towards the next stage, a mixture of jumps and other obstacles.

"Yeah, on the last jump."

He nods in response and gestures me to go forward. "You can go first."

I smile and jump to the first plate. We make our way upwards, as I focus on making the last jump. It's much bigger than any other of the jumps and I suddenly think back to when I fell. Subcounscily my instincts turn on and I start stopping. But I push on and in an unexpected dash of courage, I make the jump.

I throw my belly over the ledge and immediately start clawing with my hands for a grip. After a few seconds of struggle, I throw up my leg over the ledge, just like Roark did, and drag myself up. I stand up in triumph, even if it is a little as clearing an obstacle.

I look behind me and Roark gives me a thumbs up while jumping between the pillars. But when he makes the final jump his face changes from excitement to horror as I notice he slipped. In about a second he will meet the same fate as I did 20 minutes ago.

Suddenly, I feel our hands connect and my body crumbling from his weight, but I use my other hand to grab the other side of the tower. He immediately grabs the ledge and finally drags himself.

"Thanks," he says while catching his breath. "I really messed up."

That's when it dawns on me that I didn't even think. I just threw out my hand and saved him. It was pure instinct. Instincts that can kill me in the games.

"Let's take a break," Roark says.

I nod and we take a seat on the edge of the tower, so we can have a good view of the training center. It's the last day of training, so many of the tributes hurry to cram in the last bit of training. Except for the careers, who has considerably relaxed the latest days. Maybe they have realized that additional training won't do them much good other than familiarizing them with the arsenal of the capitol.

"It feels weird that we might die in two days." Roark suddenly says "Like, it is suddenly so likely that I won't exist in a few days."

"Mmmh," I reply.

"It feels unreal."

"It feels rather real to me."

Roark nervously chuckles at that but stops once he notices my confused expression. I didn't mean it as a joke.

"How is it in District 8?" he suddenly asks.

"What do you mean?" I reply, a bit confused.

Roark shrugs. "What I heard in District 2 it's a constant state of anarchy, where people are killed in broad daylight and you have to steal to survive. I've even heard someone say that they're cannibals too because they're too poor to get real food." He chuckles at that. "But that's mostly just propaganda I believe. I find it a bit too unrealistic."

Now it is my turn to laugh. "It is bad, but it's not that bad. Of course, there are thugs, but mostly everyone is trying to survive. If we had to steal we would all have been shot anyway."

"What do you mean?" Roark asks, completely oblivious. "Peacekeepers don't shot anyone for just stealing."

I raise an eyebrow. "Peacekeepers will shoot you for much less than stealing. Everyone knows that."

"Peacekeepers will only shoot you if you killed someone. The worst you can get for stealing is time in prison," he says. We're quiet for a few seconds, not really knowing what to say.

"Or maybe that's only in District 2," he mutters.

I nod and I notice his eyes are drifting away as everything sinks in. For some reason, I never thought that peacekeepers would be more gentle in the career districts. The peacekeepers' brutality is so ingrained in everyone's mind that no one even thinks of questioning it. But of course, the peacekeepers would be much less harsh in the more loyal districts. My mother once said that most of the peacekeepers are trained in District 2, so I doubt most of them are particularly eager to kill their own people.

"Damn," Roark finally mutters. "Guess that everything else they said about the outer districts is false too."

"A divided Panem is easier to control than a united," I say. "They'll never have to worry about a rebellion if everyone hates each other. In District 8 it's widely accepted that everyone from Two is bloodthirsty monsters who dream about killing people."

Roark shakes his head. "If we compare how you describe District 8 to mine our districts are very different. Trust me when I say that we are just normal people who have been fed capitol propaganda. When there's no second opinion it's hard not to go with the flow. Back in District 2, even I thought the games could be fun. But I think there is a good part of the districts who at feels on a subconscious level that the games are wrong, but that's just not something you say outright in District 2. Not if you don't want to be lynched," he says. "What I'm saying that if there's a rebellion, I think a lot of people will be surprised by the amount of support they will get from Two. We're still a district after all. Half of the population still works in the mines and I can assure you, the conditions there are far from favorable. It's just that the people who don't is the one who is in power. Opinion tends to sway very fast when you're given a pickaxe and sent into a dark hole."

When Roark finishes his speech I close my eye to just let it all sink in. I think back on my four brothers, always squabbling seemingly without an end. They must be quiet now like they always were when something bad happened. When dad left us or when Gabriel was mugged they were always quiet for a good while. Mom must be absolutely devastated. She is far from ready to lose one of her sons.

But after spending 3 days with Roark, training with him, and hearing his thoughts, I can't possibly understand how I can kill him.

Anthony Markana

District 9

A lot of people have said that they're surprised how positive I am and how much I smile, despite that, I'm going to be thrown into the hunger games in a few days. In a way, I guess they're right. I have always tried to be as positive as I can. So far, I don't plan on stopping with that mentality.

But the more time passes, my smile feels like more disguise to hide the constant panic that is rising in me.

Because so far nothing has gone my way.

I sigh as a 44% score pops up. Combat and agility was something that I found unexpectedly easy, being able to slash through dummies with ease. My unexpected nemesis might be the thing that will kill me: survival skills.

"Can you just go through everything again? From the beginning." I ask with a tired voice and wave towards the nearest trainer. The trainer gives me a sympathetic smile, but I sigh again. In the latest two days, I have slammed my head against the wall in an attempt to pick up any useful skills, and the results have been varied. I might be able to survive out in the wild for a few days, and I emphasize "might". I still have six hours left to try to cram in as much information as possible.

As long as I push on I should be fine. There's nothing that can't be achieved with hard work. I have lived by those words my entire life and so far it has gone my way. Except that my alliance fell apart before it even existed, I'm a target for the careers and nothing of that is probably going to matter because I'm just going to starve to death-

As long as I push on I should be fine.

The trainer explains to me the difference between two mushrooms, who looks exactly the same to me, and I try my best to focus. But after five minutes her words starts to float together and I realize exactly how tired I am. I have spent way too many nights awake, thinking it wouldn't matter anyway, and now I reap the consequences.

I look over at Dania, the other tribute at my station, whose face is wrenched in concentration. She taps something on the giant screen in front of her, which is engraved in the ground. After a minute the screen darkens before it lights up again, showing a 72% score.

I give her a thumbs up when her eyes land on me and she smiles back. At least she is doing good. She is the one who would need it the most. The trainer eventually finishes explaining the plants and I turn on my own screen.

The plant identification is a classic, almost as old as the games itself. It was one of the first stations to be introduced and has barely changed. The concept is simple: an image of a plant appears on the screen and you have to name it. You need to also choose If it's edible or not, and in case what effects they have. If you guess wrong but get the effects right, it might still count depending on the plant. There's a total of 53 plants on the test.

After a few minutes a 45% score pops up and I groan loudly. "Is everything alright?"

I look over at Dania and force a tired smile at her. She casts a worried glance at me, before standing up and starting to walk towards me. I hold up my hand to stop her, but she ignores it and continues until she reaches me. "I'm fine, I promise."

"Are you sure?" She takes a seat beside me, putting her on the side like she is inspecting me.

"Yep. Absolutely sure. I'm completely fine."

"You know it's okay to be worried right? We're going into the hunger games after all. It's not exactly weird to be stressed if you're going into a deathmatch in a few days."

I sigh. "I know, I know. But I can promise you, I'm handling it. It's just," I gesture over the survival station. "It's a bit harder than expected."

Dania raises an eyebrow. "You don't seem fine."

I wish she could just leave me alone. As much as I hate to admit it, she's right. I'm not fine at all. This is the worst I have ever felt. And that's after I have done exactly everything in my power to increase my chances of victory as much as possible. Despite that, I feel like they were worse than they were when I first entered. If I only didn't spend so much time practicing with weapons and instead tried to learn some actual useful skill. If I didn't try to attract allies by showing off my strength, only to do nothing but marking a target on my back.

But done is done and complaining about it won't change the past. That's something I learned a long time ago. But I don't want to put that stress on Dania. She is already worried enough for one person and if she knew how close I am to a panicking, I know she would spend even more of her valuable time trying to help me. That can't happen. If anything, I should be the one protecting her.

I can't deny that I have played with the thought. But the harsh truth is that she would only slow me down. It's Melody or Dania, and as horrible as it sounds I would choose Melody in a heartbeat. I have lived with Melody my entire life and I have spent three days with Dania. There's no doubt sadly. But if I died, I would want Dania to win. And for her to win, she can't spend time looking out for me.

"Look, I'm not the one you should worry about. I'm not exactly in my best shape, but no one is here, and you should look after yourself. It's the hunger games after all and only one can survive-"

"Don't change subjects!" Dania cuts me off, her voice starting to get an irritated tone. "It's because you're tired, isn't it? I told you to go to sleep, but you wouldn't listen! Please, just let me help-"

"I'm FINE. I doing just good enough and I'm handling it. This isn't your business, so just leave me alone!" I snap without thinking. Dania instantly recoils from my sudden change of voice, as it sinks in what I just said.

I sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. You're right, I'm tired and I'm not exactly in my best shape. Sometimes I tend to lose my temper, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Once again, I'm very sorry. But we need to take care of ourselves first and foremost, something you need to understand."

"I do hope you get better, and some sleep too. I truly do," Dania replies. Her voice is slightly shaking, but not from fear I realize, but from pent up anger that is starting to build up inside of her. "But sure, you can have it as you want. Maybe if you weren't so prideful, you would actually get somewhere."

With that, she stands up and leaves.

"Fuck," I mutter. I'm left with a lack of words as what she just said sinks in me. Prideful. I'm anything but prideful! How am I prideful? If anything, I'm the complete opposite of prideful, in fact. How is accepting the situation I have been thrown into prideful?

Pfft, like she isn't talking as she had some sort of moral high ground. Things like that are going to get you killed in the games. No need to play some sort of savior or hero when you're going to break anyway. Everyone kills when they're cornered.

I sigh, knowing I'm just telling me that because I try to justify my screw up. Suddenly I realize I'm no longer in the mood to continue training survival skills, so I stand up and start walking towards the weapons. That's at least something I'm good at. But unfortunately, the careers are better.

I pick up a scythe, inspecting it in my hand, and quickly lift it up and down to test its weight. Then, without warning, I swing it towards a dummy slicing it in half. It makes a satisfying ripping sound when the upper half of the dummy is separated from its lower half, as a flurry of thatch emerges out of its stomach.

I swing the scythe again, this time it impales the dummy instead. I put my foot against the dummy before I jank the scythe out, dragging out even more thatch. For a quick second, I imagine the thatch being replaced by someone's insides, but I quickly bat away the thought. I can't afford to think like that. Not if I want to go home to Melody.

As I slice my way through another dummy I notice the careers watching me. Both Blush and Alexi are observing me from afar, apparently having taken a break from showing off their weapon skills. I scoff and slice the head of a dummy, before picking it up and ripping it in half with my hands for good measure. Alexi whistles and turns back towards the throwing knives, while Blush seems unaffected.

I mutter a few curse words, before continuing destroying dummies with my scythe. Careers, always looking so righteous, as if they're trying to hide the murders they are. That's all there are. Idiots who couldn't find something better to do than to kill kids. And District 4 is just as bad for having the audacity to join them.

As soon as I finished watching the reaping recap I started building up a plan. An opportunity had appeared, an opportunity that rarely comes up. An opportunity to stomp the career pack into dust in the opening minutes in the games. We could finally make the hunters the hunted, but District 4 just had to ruin it all.

My plan was to isolate District 1 so they could be easy pickings in the bloodbath. I slice off the arm of a dummy, imagining it to be the boy from 1. Despite how much I try, telling myself how much they deserve it, I can't make myself enjoy it. I silently swear, before letting out my rage by repeatedly kicking the dummy. For every kick, I kick it harder, until I'm outright stomping it.

Of course, to kill the careers I needed allies. The anti-careers. My original plan was the pair from 4, the girls from 7 and 8 together with the boy from 11. But that fell about as fast as my confidence that I will ever make it out of the arena. Wilson apparently already joined an alliance before we even started training and the careers snatched Olivia rather quickly. But the deciding moment was when Alexi rejected my alliance offer to instead join the careers.

I'm not sure what I expected when I asked them. There are hundreds of kids trying to get the volunteer spot, and what it looks like it Alexi and Emerald was one of those. Of course, they wouldn't be any better than normal careers. They aren't even as good as normal careers. But it doesn't change the fact that it increased the career numbers by two and decreased my potential alliance with the same amount.

And now I'm on training day three, and no one to ally. The District 8 girl is still available, but it doesn't even matter now anyway. I would be just as screwed if she joined me as I am now. Screwed, doomed, done for, out mostly fucked. And there's nothing I can do. No matter how good of a score or how good I am at cutting dummies in half it doesn't change the fact that I'm completely alone with no survival skills. I know how I need to gather my supplies at the cornucopia and how big of a target I am.

And it angers me. The unfair odds, the large chance of dying for someone like me. The largest guy in the room with enough strength to rip apart a dummy with my bare hands; I should be the one who has a guaranteed way out of the bloodbath. It angers me that I just can't run the other way and don't need to even touch the golden horn. Because if I do that I'm deader than dead. But after all, I'll probably be targeted in the bloodbath anyway. Killing is a fickle thing. Despite how strong or fast you are, there's nothing that can stop a knife in the back.

My feelings of hopelessness are quickly pushed away by anger like it always does. I roar as I swing my scythe around me, slashing in a circle as a few unlucky dummies meet their fate. I slash even faster and stronger before, letting all my frustration out.

Eventually, I realize there aren't any more dummies left, so I take the chance to catch my breath. It feels good to be able to let all out for once, and my mind starts to feel much more clearer now.

"Uhm..." I hear a voice behind me. I quickly turn around to be met with Noelle, who is frowning while looking over the massacre around me. "If this isn't a good time to talk I can come back later-"

"Oh no, you couldn't have picked a better time actually," I say and laugh. "I just needed to calm down. So, what did you want to say?"

"It's you who have started this `anti-careers´ right?" she asks.

"Yes, but-"

"Let me join," she quickly cuts me off. "I'll join the alliance. I can be definitely of use. I have some skill with the short sword and I can fish-"

"Great! I'm happy to have you!" I say before she finishes, with a big smile on my face.

Noelle raises an eyebrow. "Okay then. But don't you want to, you know, test me? To see if I'm worthy or something."

"Nope, that would be unnecessary."

"Sure. I'm Noelle by the way," she says.

"I know," I reply, before quickly adding: "I'm Anthony."

I hold out my hand and she takes it, shaking it with a puzzled expression. "Where're the others by the way?"

"Oh, we're actually all gathered," I reply while scratching the back of my head and laughing. She frowns in confusion before she gets the joke.

"So it's only us two," she says. I can hear the disappointment in her voice, even if she's trying to hide it. "Honestly, I expected it to be more people."

"I don't blame you if you're disappointed. I honestly expected more too, but done is done and unless you want to ally with Quintin from Seven I'm your best bet."

"Yeah. That makes sense I guess," she says, still being a bit hesitant.

"Just wondering, are you any good with survival skills?"

Noelle raises an eyebrow, but answers the question: "I would consider myself good enough. I can fish and I filtrate water-"

"Great! Because as you can see I can fight," I wave over the destroyed dummies on the floor. "But I'm not particularly good surviving. So I believe we compliment ourselves rather well. Anyway, since we only have a few hours left of training, I was thinking of splitting up the time on weapons and survival so we know each other's strengths and weaknesses-"

"I just want to make one thing clear," Noelle cuts me off. "This alliance is purely strategical. No illusions of friendship or something like that. I want to go home and I'm ready to do whatever it takes to achieve that."

"No worries," I say with a smile. "I also want to go home. I didn't come here to make friends."

Somewhat functional careers: Blush(D1F), Remus(D1M), Emerald(D4F), Alexi(D4M), Olivia(D7F)

WWW: Winchester(D5F), Willow(D11F), Wilson(D11M)

Deadweight and Thomas: Lana(D3F), Thomas(D3M), Keaton(D6M)

Everything is fine, nothing is wrong here: Dania(D9F), Kris(D12F)

Someone I can trust: Roark(D2M), Ever(D8M)

Viva la Revolution: Casey(D2F), Suri(D6F)

"Anti-careers" Lmao: Noelle(D8F), Anthony(D9M)

Loners: Klaus(D5M), Quintin(D7M), Mabel(D10F), Paul(D10M), Forren(D12M)

OOPS. I have a lot of things to explain, so let's waste no time and get right into it.

First, it's Beginnings birthday! Woohoo! Thank you, everyone, who has followed me up until now, because this story will get done. It wasn't a coincidence that I choose to update on this day after all.

Second, I'm very sorry that it has almost taken two months. I have no excuse other than I'm lazy and I hit the world's biggest writing block with Anthony's POV. However, I don't like rushing chapters and I'm very happy how it turned out.

Third, I'm scrapping most of my subplot. I didn't like where I was going and it was kind of a mess. I might keep some just to tie the lose ends together, but I want to lay my focus on the tributes for and foremost.

Fourth, I have good news! I have already written the private sessions, which means you have a guaranteed update next week! I'm hoping I will continue being able to stockpile chapters and we will be able to have weekly chapters.

That's all. Thanks for reading and see you next week with the Private Sessions which will be written in document form!