Tristan Card, 14 District 8

Arianwen, Levi, Ivory, August… their faces keep flashing before my eyes. I dont want to see them. Get out of my head! Ah I can't take this anymore! I leap up out of my bed onto the carpet, the soft fabric tickles my toes. Trying to get to sleep is damn right impossible, I'm going into The Hunger Games tomorrow and all I can think about is my siblings. Is Levi getting his homework in on time? Is Arianwen sneaking out now that I'm not there to watch her? I miss them all so much. I miss my life.

Finally, not being able to bear being trapped in this room any longer with my thoughts, I twist the handle on my bedroom door and push it open. My heart jumps in surprise seeing Aeliana also out of her room. She's sat on the couch watching Capitol TV. She's never showed much of an interest in talking to me or allying with me. I guess she thought she could do better, but it turns out she hasn't. She turns to me slowly, her pale face is reflected by the TV (the only source of light in the room). She emits a slow smile which creeps me out ever so slightly, then turns back to face the TV.

"Hey," I mutter.

"What you up to?"

She turns back to me with the same smile and a glint in her eye.

"Just a bit of Capitol TV… been watching some of the previous Hunger Games to sharpen my senses for tomorrow," she answers, her voice empty of any kind of emotion.

I return an awkward nod… backing away slowly towards the door. My hand fidgets awkwardly on the doorknob, grasping desperately at the metal surface.

"What are you doing?" A voice growls.

It's a Peacekeeper next to the door, concealed well and so quiet that I didn't know they were there.

"Could I just have five minutes? I'll be quick," I stutter to the large bulky frame standing above me.

"Five minutes… but no further than the corridor…"

With a deep breath, I turn the handle and push my way out to the icy cold, dark corridor. The silence of it makes my skin crawl, the calm before the storm.

Rubbing my chilly arms, I head to the end of the corridor where a window is facing the Capitol night cityscape. The feeling begins to creep into my heart, a painful throbbing. The feeling that the only thing that separates me from terror, is in a few hours the night sky turning pink to signify the new day. I've thought about trying to escape but it's totally hopeless. The whole building is locked down with security cameras all over the place.

I take a deep . All I can do is wait as the time ticks down.

Suddenly, I feel an extra cool draft sweep across my body, piercing my lungs as I inhale it. Someone's here.

"What are you doing out so late?" A deep, disgruntled voice asks.

I almost jump out of my skin to see this new company of mine. It is the very tall boy from twelve with his shining grey eyes reflecting off the lights from outside, along with his pale skin. The guy that caused all that drama with the trainer during the first day of training.

"I could ask you the same thing," I mutter, failing to hide the gulp that follows.

He leans against the window frame which illuminates his grinning face. Sweat begins building up across my forehead and hairline at this obvious precarious situation. This boy is much larger than me and could snap my neck in a second and here I am with him alone in the dark, at the night before the games. The silence of the corridor really puts my situation in perspective. His eyes move down towards my twitching body, I think he picks up that he's making me nervous.

"Hey relax," he tells me, holding his hands up.

"I know the repercussions if I was to do anything to you in front of all these cameras."

My heart sinks back to a more regular beat as my body relaxes ever so slightly. He's right after all.

"I just wanna know one thing," he starts, turning back to face the outside through the window again.

"Do you really trust Nadia not to betray you at the first second?"

The question takes me off guard. Is that what this is about? Jealously? Jealousy that I stole his District partner? His potential ally? He's now trying to play mind games with me before the big day tomorrow. I can't let him! I won't! I have to get away from this conversation but not too bluntly that might cause him to target me tomorrow.

"Not everyone's like you… you know… not everyone would just stab their friend in the back," I retort.

Maybe that was worse than simply walking away but it just slipped out. I've never been great with words. The large boy turns back to me, chuckling. Well, at least he found it funny rather than insulting,

"And why not?" He asks.

"What's stopping her or you for that matter?" He continues.

"I don't know… i'm stopping me from doing that I guess," I answer, beginning to slowly back away from him towards my door. Jeez, Nadia was right about this guy. He scares me more than Aeliana.

But his eyes follow me, still staying fixed upon my every move.

"And that's good enough for you is it?" He questions.

"Yeah… that's good enough for me. I don't want to be stabbed in the back so why would I do it to anyone else?"

That is the last thing I say to him before I take off back towards the district eight door.

Aeliana Decima, 18 District 8

Ever since my mother literally fell off a cliff my life has literally fallen off with it. Now I am waiting at the pinnacle of everything. At the very bottom. I've almost hit the surface of the water.

There is a sound of a doorknob slowly turning followed by a door creaking open… Tristan. What can I say about Tristan? It's not that I have anything, particularly against him but at the same time I find him so irritating… why is he trying so hard to fit in around here? Does he not know we're all going to be tearing each other to pieces soon? He's just not someone I'd ever be friends with back home.

I shift around to look into his dopey, light brown eyes and give him a fake smile. But soon, I turn back to continue watching what the Capitol TV has to offer. I had been watching a lot of the previous Hunger Games to try to see if I could figure out the best strategy for survival. All the blood doesn't bother me after a while, I'm gonna have to get used to that after all. The main thing I took away from it is that the risk of running into the Cornucopia is too high for what you get out of it. My original plan was to run in and I still may if the arena looks barren but I have seen others survive for some time without running in at the beginning. It seems to me to have become more and more a tactic by the Gamemakers to get some cheap action at the start.

I've never wanted to hurt anyone particularly. I just wanted to be happy, to love people. But all my life has offered is a curve ball to that. From the bullies to the Capitol, the only thing i've been able to do is hurt people. The world doesn't allow for kindness.

"Hey," the voice of Tristan interrupts my thoughts.

"What you up to?"

His voice is like an irrelevant squeal from a mouse in the corner of the room. Like all of us he means nothing. His life is pointless and so is everything he does or says.

With a deep, internal sigh that he can't see or hear I turn back to him.

"Just a bit of Capitol TV… been watching some of the previous Hunger Games to sharpen my senses for tomorrow," I answer.

Then he begins backing away towards the door, disappearing into the dark shadows of the room. I scoff to myself, didn't want to talk to him anyway. Good riddance. I suppose.

In the end, I've finally got bored of the Capitol TV so tap the remote to switch it off. The room goes completely dark since the TV was the only thing emitting light. I stand up and move towards the window to stare out at the Capitol cityscape, pressing my hand lightly against the slim glass. Have you ever gotten the feeling that your entire life has led to this moment? Well, that is the revelation that struck me staring out of this window.

Kate Wakai, 18 District 4

As the midnight before the start of the games comes to a close, the scattered rain droplets, reflect off the window accompanied by their gentle patters.

All of a sudden there is a beeping sound from my comms attached to my belt! After rapidly scanning around the now dim, empty apartment, I pull out my comms, concealed under my jacket. Then I scan my finger on the door leading to the balcony outside (prohibited for tributes). Making my way onto the balcony, it's protected by a covering from the torrents of rain however some of the chilly drops still escape onto my face.

I hold my comms up to my mouth and swallow to speak.

"Sir," I answer, now leaning with my arm against the balcony against the breeze. So that it's hidden from any gaze coming from behind me.

"The games are tomorrow," Cornelius croaks down my comms.

"I'm aware."

"I know it's not easy to talk but I need a progress update on this inside tribute. What have you found?" He questions.

"Not much I'm afraid but…"

I pause, glancing into the lights of the misty Capitol metropolis.

"After the attack yesterday, I have a feeling it might be one of the careers…"

"I'll need a little more than just a feeling," his old voice croaks.

"I think they targeted Marissa because they were trying to draw us out," I say, under the rain.

The is a brief silence before he replies this time.

"Perhaps, but it's possible she could be the child spoken about in the prophecy… that's why they targeted her…"

I groan a little under my breath.

"Cornelius… we've been over this… I don't believe in fairy tales."

"But was it not stated by the Eye that a child in the 95th games would finally bring about the end of the Capitol, the games, and the Storm?"

I stare back out into the rainy night to contemplate his words. I want to destroy the Storm and the Capitol along with them and the Indigo Eye seems like the best way to do that. However, I can never go along with all this mystical mumbo jumbo that comes with it.

I lean into my comms after a hesitant breath.

"I don't know… ask Estaban, he's good at deciphering what some wack jobs might have written," I answer.

"Please listen to me Kate, finding the child of this prophecy is just as important as finding the Storms double agent," he pleads.

"I understand," I mutter.

Maybe they are one and the same? The thought briefly crosses my mind before I shake it off. No, I don't believe in that nonsense. As I am glancing around, through the glass, back inside, I notice a blond head wandering around the kitchen. Marissa. What's she doing up at this time before her big day tomorrow. Hey, eyes catch me standing out her, staring at her.

I move the comms back to my mouth.

"Listen, I've gotta go now," I say.

"Of course, but remember Kate, nothing happens by accident," he tells me.

"I wish I could believe that," I reply, before hastily switching off the comms and placing back on my belt, under my jacket.

Scanning my finger to open the door, I make my way back inside. Met with a sea of warmth compared to the cold, damp of the outside.

Marissa is standing there, holding a smoothy, still in her outfit from the day instead of her pyjamas.

"Strange weather to be hanging out there," she comments, her eyes moving towards the balcony.

I turn back to the balcony awkwardly and then back to her.

"Oh uh…. I find the need for sudden fresh air every now and again… hunger games survivors' problems," I explain.

She nods slowly in a kind of animated way, but her eyes remain fixed upon me. Then, she takes a quick sip. Maybe she picked up that I called myself a survivor… not a victor. It was a slip of the tongue if anything.

"Anyway, no need to be concerned with me. Tomorrow is your big day. Are you ready?" I question.

She nods, triumphantly this time and assumes a more relaxed posture as she leans against the wall with her smoothy.

"Got any last-minute advice for me?" She asks.

I give her a smirk and nod.

"Yeah… always expect the unexpected," I answer with a wink.

"And get some rest. I was asleep for almost the first 12 hours of my games," I laugh.

This causes her to chuckle back and disappear back into her bedroom. Leaving me alone in the apartment with my thoughts. My mind dwells on the words Cornelius read to me that time, I was only half-listening but his words echo in my head like a record. "The 95th Hunger Games will be the last, a child born into pain will bring about the end of the Storm." A child born into pain, it must mean the hunger games but who? There's something going on here, a piece of the puzzle that I'm missing. I feel like I am so close yet so far, I have to go through the tributes again, dissect every tiny detail of their backstory. The Storm are coming, they will strike soon. They are always one step ahead.

Suddenly there is a knock at the door! Who could that be at this time? Another assassin? I slip a shuriken from my sleeve into my hand, mostly hidden from view so that whoever is on the other side would have to be looking to find it. My heart is pounding in my chest. I snap the door open, ready for the worst, but I am surprised to find Jade standing there!

Jade Hastings, 18, District 1

As night falls on the Capitol, I stare out the window in my room and think about the upcoming 24 hours. In twelve hours, I'll be waking up here for the last time. Henry and I will board a hovercraft to take us to the arena that will be our home for the next…however long it lasts. And the games will start. The killing will commence.

I thought I'd be more…excited. I mean, this is exactly what I've been training for. I mutilated my best friend to be here. Why did I do that?

My room starts to suffocate me. I rush out the door and into the main living area. I grab a glass of water from the table and swallow it in one gulp.

Calm down, Jade. Jeez. I close my eyes and count to three. When I open my eyes, I jump back.

"Holy shit, Alexandrine. You scared me." I say. She tilts her head to the side and takes a seat at the table. She looks at the seat across from her. I oblige.

"I know how you're feeling. I remember this moment forty five years ago. I was scared too." She says. I lean forward, taking in every word. Alexandrine had one of the most traumatic Games experience out of all the Victors from One. Not only did she fight in an area with double the tributes thanks to the Quell, she had to have her hand amputated halfway through. She attributes her victory to Crystal, who was by her side the entire time, and Evander Floyd, one of the two males from One. I've watched the recap of their Games numerous times. I don't know how she pulled through.

"How did you get through it? I mean, through everything." I ask. She's quiet for a moment. I wonder if I triggered her traumatic memories.

"I had Crystal. I had Evan. I had to work through problems one at a time, and only one at a time. If I started thinking about every single thing, it was too much. So, that's my advice to you. Find the person you can trust, and stick with them. Stay aware of your surroundings. If I'm being honest, you have a lot of strong personalities in this Career alliance. Watch your back." She sighs and leans back.

For a while, neither of us say anything. I try to process her advice. The last year of my life has made it impossible for me to trust anyone, especially not people I'm in direct competition with. Usually, district partners have the strongest bond, but I can't stand Henry. Tatiana and Franz seem to have their own bond, and no one trusts Taliesin. That leaves Marissa. The one I probably trust the most. At the very least, the only one I have anything in common with.

"Thank you." I stand up and Alexandrine nods. She stands.

"Don't overthink. Your gut is usually right." She says as she disappears into the darkness.

My gut. The reason I'm here in the first place and Rosaline isn't.

But I take her advice for now and I head over to the elevator. I push the button labeled "4" and let it take me up.

As I enter the apartment I find myself face to face with a woman I recognize as Kate, Marissa's mentor. She glares at me, confused.

"I'm looking for Marissa." I say. Still confused, she tilts her head.

"She's in her room. Last door on the left." She points in the direction of the rooms, despite this floor being the exact same layout as mine.

"Thanks." I brush past her and head in that direction. As I reach the hallway with the bedrooms, I ask myself, what am I doing? Why am I here?

I knock before I can find the answer. For a while, there's silence behind the door. I'm just beginning to think she's not here when I hear light footsteps approach. Her surprise isn't masked as she opens the door.

"Jade. Hey". She stands there, still in her outfit from today, instead of more comfortable clothes for the evening. She looks a little…disheveled. What did she get into today?

"Hey. Sorry to just, uh, show up. I can't get my mind off the arena tomorrow." I come right out and say. She nods slowly, then opens the door up to invite me in. I take it.

I take a seat at the desk as she goes to sit on her bed. Her eyes are focused on the window outside. I can't say I know everything about Marissa, not even close, but I can tell something's up. I ask her.

"What?" She says, breaking out of her trance. I repeat my question. "Oh. Nothing. Same as you. The arena." She turns to focus on me.

"Right." I realize what a mistake this was. I stand. "I'm sorry I bothered you." I turn to leave, but her voice stops me.

"Wait." She adjusts her position on her bed and I turn around and lean against the wall. "I'm sorry. Today was rather…unexpected." I cross my arms. She laughs and shakes her head. "You don't want to know."

"No, probably not." I try to continue, but the words don't come.

"Jade, why did you volunteer?" She breaks the silence quickly.

"Why did any of us volunteer? Fame, glory, pride." My words are immediately dismissed with her scoff. "Why did you volunteer, then?" I snap back a little harsher than intended. She doesn't acknowledge it.

"Did you watch the reaping recap?" I nod. "So you saw the girl I pushed down the stairs? That was my sister." She pauses, as if waiting for some melodramatic reaction from me. I don't. "Well, that was my sister. Sofia. I was tired of living in her shadow. I was tired of her getting all the praise and recognition. So…I took matters into my own hands. And…I'd do it all over again." Marissa puts her arms behind her on the bed and leans back, almost euphoric. I can't believe how natural she's appeared throughout this entire show. She was flawless on the Chariots. She was a natural in training. She killed her interview. She's perfect Victor material. But so am I.

"I had a similar…incident. My ex-best friend was chosen as the chosen volunteer this year." Marissa lowers her head and glares at me.

"Yet here you are." She stands up and takes a step towards me.

"Here I am. And I plan to return. So…what do you say we make sure none of those other idiots in our alliance ruin that?" Her face, that has been emotionless this entire time, has a hint of a smirk forming.

Emily Lynch, 17, District 6

I lay curled up on the couch, letting the TV play the same programs over and over again. Recaps of the reaping. Recaps of the interviews. Of the score reveal. The chariot rides. Over and over again I see the faces of my competitors. Knowing any number of us will be dead in the morning keeps me awake. I could be dead in the morning.

I'm so focused on this that I don't notice Conrad sitting down next to me until he speaks.

"Hey." I nearly jump out of my skin, which Conrad must think is quite funny. I hit him with a pillow, and he hold his hands up in defense.

"Sorry, sorry!" Still laughing through his apology, he takes note of what I've been watching. Or, well, "watching". "How can you watch this?"

"I haven't been. Not really. I just…needed a distraction." Self conscious, I grab the remote and flip through the channels until I hit one that isn't covering the Games. It's some kind of history channel. Great.

"So you distract yourself from the Hunger Games by watching Hunger Games content. Makes sense." Conrad shoots back.

"Did you come here just to tease me? I can go." My words come out harsher than I intended. But he's not phased.

"Nah. I'm sorry. I guess I also just wanted a distraction." He stretches his arms in the air and lets out a sigh.

"How are you not nervous?" I ask, bewildered at his loose demeanor. He shakes his head.

"I can't afford to be nervous. I have an alliance to protect. I have myself to protect. I can't consider an alternative." He says so nonchalantly. It amazes me, to a point where I'm almost envious of him.

"Who are you allied with?" I ask. I've seen him hanging around the weird, small boy from Three, but I can't imagine Conrad in an alliance with him.

"Beckett and Elijah. The boys from Three and Seven." Ah. So he is with the weird small boy. My face must display my thoughts, because he laughs. "Sometimes, the smallest people can surprise you" Again, his nonchalant attitude is bewildering to me. I hate to be mean, but he's hurting his chances teaming with a boy that young and naive.

Conrad interrupts my line of thinking by asking me who I've allied with.

"Oh, no one. I guess I should've. But, I don't know. I don't think I could trust anyone." What I don't tell him is my fear of the fight. Of killing. How would I live with myself after killing another human being? How does anyone?

I think about those kids who have trained for this their whole life. Those who don't know any different. I'm supposed to compete against those kids?

"Well, if we run into you tomorrow, I won't kill you." Conrad says, only half joking.

"Same." My locked knees ache as I stretch them out and stand up from the couch.

"Goodnight, Conrad. And good luck out there. I mean it." I say as I head towards my room. If he says anything back, I don't hear him.

I collapse on my bed, not bothering to take off my clothes from the day. I gently rub my hand along the comforter. If I close my eyes, I can almost envision myself in my own bed. There's me, and Lukas, and we're drawing in one of his large notebooks. The memory is so vivid, even though it happened a few years ago, it could have been yesterday..

We're trying to draw a castle, like the one the president lives in. Surrounded by guards, and rose bushes (Luckas insisted). But I accidentally mess up on a line, and Lukas laughs at me. I pretend to be mad, but I can't help but laugh with him. Lukas takes the notebook from me and he turns the crooked line into a flagpole. He draws a big "L" in the center of the flag.

"What does it stand for?" I ask, anticipating him to say his name.

"Lynch! It's our family castle!" My heart beams with joy as he flashes me his wide toothless grin. He goes back to his artistic creation and I let myself enjoy the moment.

Despite tears finding themselves rolling onto the bed, I somehow find the bliss of sleep.