Spencer Wire

I used to look so handsome in the Capitol. After the Arena got through with me, I was a drab, muddy mess. My hair was plastered down to my head in horrible sticky clumps and every inch of me was covered in glop.

Of course, I was in no position to worry about my appearance. I was hungry as a bear and starting to get close to panic. It had already been a week. If I didn't find something to eat soon, I'd be

too weak to try. It would be over if that happened.

My mouth actually watered when I saw the frog. It was disgusting, but I wanted to cram it in my mouth and taste the sweet blood as its bone crunched in my teeth. I bellyflopped onto the log it was sitting on. I was trying to catch it, but instead I smashed it flat against the wood. It was twitching and twisted and sticky with blood. I ate it raw and licked the blood from my fingers.

After that, I got a little more fancy. I started roasting the frogs over a fire. I loved to watch the fat dripping off their legs as they dangled. They were crunchy and rich and buttery and delicious. They filled me up and gave me new life. If I got out of the Arena, I was going to make it up to the glorious creatures. I'd buy a million flies and let them loose in any swamps I could find.

Water was still a problem. I chugged it left and right to put it in faster than it came out. I seemed to be keeping up, but it wasn't pretty. I finally solved the problem by mugging a little girl for her water filter. I tried not to think about what I did to Sarla. It would have happened eventually anyway. That didn't stop the guilt, and I knew I deserved to feel it.

Exsequia said the feast was optional, but I wasn't sure I trusted her. It wasn't very nice of her to call me to a feast when the only other two Tributes left were Thompson and Venus. I got there first and stuffed a bottle of pure, clean water into my shirt. I grabbed a bowl of cherries and hid under the checkered tablecloth.

It sounded like Venus was the next to arrive. I didn't hear the heavy footsteps of a male or Thompson's near-endless chatter or whistling. It was horribly suspenseful sitting inches away from a killing machine. Venus' shapely legs were so close I could smell them. I was terrified she'd hear me if I moved, but just as terrified that she'd brush against me if I didn't.

Thompson saved me. Venus' legs moved and I heard her pushing her chair back. I took a chance and peeked under a sliver of tablecloth to see what was happening. Thompson was better than I thought. He was wearing a vest and a gladiator helmet, and he held one arm across his throat. There was nothing for Venus to hit. She threw a knife at his arm and he ignored it as he came at her.

The only way for me to win was to fight dirty. One of Venus' feet stomped down right by the table I was hiding under. I shot out my hand and yanked her leg. She fell back and slid down the table. Thompson seized his chance like I hoped he would and stabbed her before she hit the ground. I rolled over and darted out the other side of the table just as he stabbed his sword right where I'd been sitting.

I jumped up and pushed the table over onto him. I threw the tablecloth over him and kicked his head with all my might. I kicked it again and tangled the cloth around it as he tried to get it off. While he was still blinded, I grabbed one of Venus' knives. I stuck it down through the cloth into his head. I felt it penetrate the skull and my hands slid down it at the resistance, slashing them both. Thompson went limp and lay with the sheet over him like a shroud.

I was going home. I would have fame and riches and everything I wanted. Weirdly enough, what I really wanted was to eat some frogs.