Christobal Chanel- District Eight male (16)

I used to think the world could be better than this. My life had been hard sometimes but I always thought that it could get better or at least that the sad days would pass. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to think that again. We lived in a country where the government sanctioned the execution of a little autistic kid. Denton wasn't even a threat to them. He couldn't threaten anyone. My country had so much violence and sadism in it that they wanted to watch Denton die so they could laugh about it.

Todd was holding up better than I was. It was no surprise, since he was a lot more... I don't know, successful than me. He was popular and did his chess games and things like that. I was just a shy kid who wasn't even brave enough to talk to his mother. Todd thought one of us could win this. I agreed with him- one of us could win this.

The parachute came while we were creeping behind a row of houses looking for one to sneak into. After the first gift came to our shed it didn't seem safe to stay there in case the Careers had watched it in the sky. I wasn't sure if we should open it or wait. The Careers might already be on our trail but whatever was in the box might be the only thing that would help us survive them. Todd erred on the side of boldness and quickly opened the box.

"Spurs?" he whispered, smiling a little at how silly it was. I could hardly imagine squatting over a Career and killing them with the tiny metal wheels. But they did look cool when Todd attached them to his boots. The black metal helmet that came with them looked far more useful. It gave Todd a ghoulish look when he put it on, the red eyepieces looking like an evil robot, but it would certainly protect him.

Every house we tried was locked. Clearly we'd have to break in. It was just a matter of finding the easiest house to break into- one with a low window we could force open or maybe break. It would be a lot faster and hopefully quieter than breaking a door in.

Toddward pried at the edge of a window that opened outward. It opened out maybe an inch- far enough for him to stick a pebble in there to hold it open so I could get my fingers in there too. We both leaned back and without much resistance the window popped open. I clambered through the window and landed on a scuffed wooden floor. I turned to help Todd and saw Malcolm in the distance aiming a rifle right at him.

Malcolm Royden- District One male (18)

"Isn't that hot?" Juniper asked Alice, who was wearing the creepy doll mask someone had left for her in the Cornucopia.

"It's actually not," she shrugged. "They must have made it special."

Creepy, though, I discreetly thought instead of saying. Being willing to kill people was one of the less-creepy things about Alice. But that probably just judgmental of me. If Alice was born like that it wasn't nice to say it made her creepy. I wouldn't call a blind person creepy.

A parachute appeared in the sky above us. It didn't take a genius to figure out what to do. We started toward the parachute at a leisurely pace, following it as it arced through the sky and toward a row of houses. It was still some distance away when it disappeared behind the tops of the buildings. We crept after it and hid at the end of the opposite row of houses so we could see what we were working with.

I peeked out from the house we were hiding behind the corner of and saw Toddward about to climb through a window into a house. He was wearing a helmet and his upper half was about to be hidden by the window. I didn't have much time so I stepped out into the street and took the shot.

Toddward Howard- District Nine male (16)

The impact threw me against the window frame, knocking the air from my stomach and slamming into my hips so hard they must have bruised. I knew I'd been shot but not where. Christobal yanked me forward by the underarms as I threw myself forward with my legs. One of them moved but not the other. I landed on the floor feeling like I'd wet my pants. Through the shock it came to me that we warm wetness was blood.

"Are you okay?" Christobal asked, more to say something than because it actually made sense. I didn't have time for his assistance. Everything seemed razor-sharp to me, like I was high on something.

"You have to get out of here," I said, pushing him away. I hauled myself into a sitting position by grabbing the windowsill.

"What about-"

"They're already coming!" I said more urgently. "I can't walk. Go and I'll cover you." Christobal hesitated, his face covered with guilt and his arms reached imploringly at me.

"Get out or we'll both die!" I shouted. Christobal took a last distraught look at me, then out the window, and then ran out the back door. Malcolm, who had been trotting toward the window, broke sideways to take off after him.

"No you don't," I said. I leaned myself against the wall and shot at him through the window, aiming a bit ahead. He stopped dead at the noise, his arms flying up and looking at the window in shock and a gratifying bit of fear. He ran behind the nearest house and I took one more shot at him to let him know I'd start again if he got any ideas.

Through the door I could see Christobal fleeing. He ran off to the next row of houses and ran down them until he was out of sight. From there he could hide in any of the buildings or even sneak back to main street if he wanted. None of the Careers dared to run after him and he was far out of gunshot range now.

Then there's nothing left to do. Everything still seemed so clear. I couldn't feel my leg but I could feel the growing puddle underneath me. I was going to bleed to death. Either that or I would manage to bandage the wound and then the Careers would come for me. It would be a standoff that might last all night but eventually either my cannon would go off or they'd figure out a way to come and get me.

Or... I cracked open the pistol and took out my four remaining bullets. If I shot them off the Careers would know I was helpless. Instead I leaned forward and dragged myself across the floor. I hunted around until I found a knot in the floor. I dumped the bullets in and kept going so it looked like I was crawling toward the kitchen and not the hole. When I reached the far wall I leaned against it, worn out and no longer feeling so sharp. Nothing to do but bleed to death, having stolen one kill from the Careers and taken all the fun out of another.

I leaned my head against the wood. They talked about the odds but there was never really a chance for most of us. The game was rigged from the start.

Raleigh Foster- District Ten female (14)

The world wasn't what I thought it was. It was more clear to me than anything had been in years. I would die in this Games if I didn't change everything about myself. No more thinking the best of people. No more thinking things always work out in the end. The only way to stay alive was to stay away from the people who would kill me and eventually kill the people I could.

It was dark outside. Five people had died in the Bloodbath and then two more cannons had come later. Seven people were already gone and I was that much closer to getting out. It was dark outside and that seemed fitting for what I was doing. I was in a wagon parts store rooting around for something I could use to kill people. I was already a new person. I'd been in the Arena for only hours but it was all that mattered in my life. In a survival situation you can only think about survival, even if survival can only come by killing someone else.

I almost cut myself on the carving knife when I found it under a haphazard stack of wood. It was so little, the handle as long as my palm and the blade only as long as my little finger. I hated to imagine what it would take to kill someone with it. I didn't know if I was strong enough- not emotionally but literally strong enough to cut a life out of someone with so little leverage.

The creaking of a floorboard let me know I wasn't alone. I whirled around with my knife out, looking for whoever it was that would try to kill me before I killed them. In the doorway to the workroom I made out a form so dark it seemed like a shadow at first. Only by the movement of the eyes did I recognize Brock.

I'd never noticed how small Brock was. He was shorter than I was and the height of the doorway marked out how very far he had to go before he reached adulthood. A metal bar dangled to the ground from his almost relaxed hand.

"I have to kill you," he said, but not really to me. He said it like he was trying to convince himself.

"No, it's your choice," I said. I felt a prick of guilt that I was shaming Brock for something I'd just decided to do myself. It was my choice, too, and I'd made it, just like Brock was about to do.

Brock wavered, his bright eyes flickering. They settled and he brought up the bar. I put up my arm to defend my head as he swung it at me like a baseball bat. It didn't make a difference.

18th place: Toddward Howard, District Nine male- Bled to death, shot by Malcolm

Heroes get remembered but legends never die. Toddward exploded onto the scene with such self-confidence that it rubbed off on those around him until most of us were at least fond of him. But a candle that burns so brightly has sadly burned so quickly. He went out like a champ and though he couldn't save Denton, Christobal lives on because of him. Thanks Demonlied for a Tribute I didn't know was a gaming reference until like five days ago so I wrote him as a serious Tribute with a randomly bizarre name. PS he was at -5 votes.

17th place: Raleigh Foster, District Ten female- Bludgeoned by Brock

Usually Brock uses a knife but for this one I used a metal rod because it could cause near-instant death by head trauma instead of the longer death a knife would have needed. Raleigh was too innocent for that. Her form DID mention she'd become hardened if she lived so she was on that path but she was still just a kid who tried to do a good deed. Thanks Lindsey for Raleigh, who was a utopian girl in a dystopian book.