Train Rides:


The moment you refuse the human rights of just a few,
What happens when that few includes you?


Eloise Allegro, District Eight


''How are you two feeling right now?'' Jackson asks me and Darren.

''Absolutely shitty,'' Darren groans, his foul-mouthed words breezing through the air like a cold wind. Intrigued, I sit back on the u-shaped bean bag and hold a wooden plate full of food in front of me. Darren furrows his eyebrows, his presence displaying frustration and annoyance. ''What right do those shit stains have to draft teens, for the sole purpose of death, at any free will? It makes no sense to me.''

Smiling, I look down at the warm piece of bread that has a slab of melting yellow butter dripping down its edges and a thick, hearty slice of roasted pork on my plate. The tingling sensation in my stomach, known as hunger, kicks in, and without hesitation, I grab the pork and rip a chunk off with my teeth.

Darren stops speaking all of a sudden, and when I glance upwards, everyone is staring at me. ''What?'' I shrug. ''There's no need to be pretentious. I'm going into a death match. Am I supposed to be impressing somebody?''

''Well, if you want to be supported in the Games, then yes, you should be attempting to, at least,'' Marcel frowns. ''Don't be so impolite.''

''Chill out with that shit,'' Darren speaks up, crossing his arms together. ''She can be impolite if she wants – she doesn't even deserve to be here, so why not piss those fucking cunts off while she can?''

''You've got such a strong vocabulary, kid,'' Jackson laughs.

''Not the first time I've heard that statement,'' Darren rolls his eyes, looking at me with a straight face. ''But, really, come on, now. What's she ever done in her life that's so bad that she has to be put in this predicament? What have any of us ever done to the Capitol? Something that happened almost two centuries ago shouldn't be held for this long of a grudge.''

''Well, yeah, but—''

''There are no buts,'' Darren decides. ''Seriously. I'm not trying to disrespect you guys or anything, but the picture is clear... and I feel bad for some people, man. Especially for Eloise. It's fucked up.''

Suddenly, a blush sears through my cheeks, and for a moment, I think that my face is on fire. Fidgeting with my hands, I attempt to hide my rosy features behind my slim fingers. Darren catches sight of me and starts chuckling a little, and even I start to let the little giggles escape my lips.

''Thanks for having my back, dude,'' I smile. ''I seriously agree with him, though. Honestly, having him around ameliorates this entire thing and makes it just a bit more bearable.''

''Well, if both of you feel the same way, then why not ally with each other?'' Jackson suggests. ''When I witnessed your reactions to being reaped, I wasn't too keen on the idea – but now that I've seen how you two will interact with one another, I think you could work fittingly together. Whatcha you think, Marcel?''

''I don't care, really. As long as your chances of surviving are increased, I'm not against it.''

''Our chances of surviving will be increased when you give us some good advise.''

''Hey—'' Marcel starts.

''Don't get mad at Darren,'' I interrupt. ''He's right. Help us. Besides, worry more about the nut that's dripping down your lip and the piece of corn stuck in between your teeth rather than having a back-and-forth argument with a tribute.''

''You could have spoken to me privately about the corn...'' she sighs. ''And nut? What the hell is nut?''

''You know,'' I gesture, balling my right hand into a fist and pumping it forward and backward rapidly, letting my fingers release when my arm begins to ache, signifying the climax. I pretend as if something splatters on her when I moan, ''...Boom.''

Darren instantly begins to crack up, his laughter boisterous and hearty, while Jackson attempts to hold in his stifled breathes of tittering. Marcel quickly realizes what I was representing and removes the 'butter' from the corner of her mouth, looking at me with an upset expression.

''So,'' I say, turning to Darren when the noise in the room subsides, ''you down to be allies?''

The question takes him by surprise, apparently – I guess he wasn't expecting me to ask – as he looks at me seriously for a moment, putting on a stony countenance of hardness and nodding his head. He brings his hand outwards and I politely shake it, smiling proudly.

Unfortunately, Marcel still isn't quite convinced. ''You really think this could work? You two are as different as can be.''

''Not really,'' I reply. ''He could be a killer and I could be a victim who's never faced a hardship in my life. C'mon, now.''

''Still, it's not precise enough. Are you two sure?''

Out of nowhere – well, not really; I actually felt it coming up – I let out a loud belch that shocks the entire room, the deep-sounding burp erupting out of my throat and the putrid smell of beef passing by everyone, slickly.

''That horrendous smell came from your mouth?'' Marcel points a finger. ''That's so grotesque! You apparently have no manners whatsoever!''

Staring at her defiantly, I raise my shoulders and then let them slump. ''No-one said that you had to breathe through your nose. If you'd rather open your mouth and let the burp enter through there instead, I'd have no problem with that.''

Again, Darren smiles at me. We could really work.

''And to answer your question, yes. I do think that Darren and I could make an awesome alliance,'' I say, completely honest. ''With my charisma and his anger, don't you think we could take the arena by surprise? He's a built guy, strong and capable, and I'm ready to play the game with him. I'm confident that we'll get through this mess.''

Because we really have to.


Millet Arrowroot, District Nine


There are times where emotions run so high in people that you can almost feel the tears leap from them and into your own eyes. It's like they're sparks ready to fly, and I'm the ground that they land on – Cherokee's human emotions run high on end.

''They don't love me...'' she whispers to herself, rocking back-and-forth in her seat. Her obsessive crying makes me uncomfortable, and I wouldn't doubt that it makes our mentors uncomfortable, as well. ''Maybe I really am cursed. No! I can't be. So why do they treat me like this and call me the bad child? What's my problem?!''

Both Lilac and Demetri glance up, stare at Cherokee for a bit, and then let her continue rambling. Judging by the looks on their faces, I can tell that they're disoriented. Demetri's mouth purses, slightly open and loose. His eyes are fixed, as if he's looking at something a yard behind her head. ''What exactly are you talking about? I asked if you guys would like to construct a few strategies, and here we are.''

''I'm sorry,'' she sniffs, blowing her nose with one of the table napkins. ''A lot has been going on and I don't know how to deal with it.''

''Then don't.'' With an easy, hardened expression, I cock an eyebrow when she looks at me perplexed. ''Don't look at me like that. Your words and actions are divergent. I mean that they pull in opposite directions as if your brain's narrator and navigator have entirely different thoughts about what goes on in your life. You talk the talk of a girl who knows who she is, but when push comes to shove, you cower in whatever your parents say. Forget all that. It doesn't matter now – the only thing that does is your life.''

''But you don't even understand wha—''

''I know that I don't understand. You have parents to tell you what's up, and I bet that they support you despite everything that they say.'' Her eyes widen with sympathy, and the glistening tears slip from her lacrimal glands. ''Just let it go, and try not to think about them so damn much. Are you confused? Or do you not see yourself for who you are and instead appear to be the girl that others imagine you to be?''

''I— I don't know. I think that I should be the girl that I know I am.''

''All right, then,'' I decide. ''I'm glad that you said that, because you sounded like you were giving up with trying to figure out who you are. Be smart with how you present yourself. No-one in the Capitol is going to enjoy watching a pitiful girl who cries over herself all the time. From what I can point out, you believe that you're cursed or some shit like that?''

''Mm-hmm,'' she nods her head.

''Stop being so superstitious. Tributes like you don't make it far because you turn out weird and boring to watch. It's like staring at yourself in the mirror all day long – you get bored of it, unless you're that cocky. You don't have to listen to me, but in this cutthroat society that we live in, you gotta know how to test the waters and adapt.''

''Honestly, I couldn't have said it any better myself,'' Demetri says, placing his hand on the glass table and leaning forward. ''He's got the whole plot of the Games on point.''

Lilac, even, adds in her two cents. ''A natural-born leader, I'd say.''

Cherokee lightens up her gaze and relaxes herself on the comfortable couch. ''I agree. Thank you, really. It's nice to have someone who's sensible and understands the dangers ahead. I appreciate you looking out for me.''

Placing my right fist on my cheek, I stare down at the plate of this thing they call mac and cheese that sits before me, a golden glow radiating off of it. ''It's whatever.''

Cheese oozes from inside and drips off the side. Steam rises in an aromatic haze, and with a desire to taste the extraordinary food, I shove a fork-full of it in my mouth, slightly yelping as it burns my tongue. It's hot, but it's also nice and gooey in the middle and crispy on top – a perfect combination of textures.

Ryess would really enjoy this. Suddenly, the plate of food is off to the side, and my hands hang limply over my knees, my eyes red as I stare coldly at the carpet. Every moment that we spent together feels like they're just painful memories now. All the unwanted attention, Mom and Dad's caring nature, us running around the fields together and laughing... All of it's gone now. But it makes sense.

The most beautiful memories are the worst, cutting my insides as if they're shards of glass. I feel the kind of sadness that seeps into your bones rather than explodes in a cascade of tears.

Take care of her, Root.

''Hello?'' Cherokee waves.

''Yes?''

''I've noticed that you never talk or contribute to anything unless you feel like something needs to be said. You don't really show emotion or passion for anything, do you.''

Shrugging, I say, ''Maybe that's just my personality.''

''Empty on the inside and emotionless?''

Cherokee disengages herself from the topic of my personality when I raise my cheeks and shyly wonders, ''S-Since you were able to help me get over this whole thing for a bit, I was curious as to whether you'd like to be allies or not..?''

''Nah, I think I'll pass.'' She looks at me, surprised, as I expected. Turning up her nose, she looks away, seemingly embarrassed. ''Sorry, I just think that you'd be too much of a liability to keep around by my side. It's nothing against you – I just wanna do what's best for me.''

''Thank you for being honest, at least.'' With that, she exits the train cart and saunters over to the one where our rooms are located.

An awkward moment of silence passes by before Demetri opens up his mouth, saying, ''I call dibs on Millet.''

''Hold up, what?'' Lilac scoffs.

''You heard me, no take backs.''

Lilac turns to me while Demetri flashes a white, toothy grin. Rolling my eyes, I lean backwards and let myself rest, knowing that both mentors from my District are fighting over who gets to train me.

''It doesn't matter who mentors me,'' I cut through their argument. ''As long as my well-being and chances of victory are raised and secured – and we focus on bringing Nine another Victor – I'm satisfied.''


Condor Teal, District Seven


Clasping her hands together, Chantell makes sure to emphasize how important sponsors are. ''You will rely on them. When you get into open view, make sure to make a good first impression. Smile, wave, blow kisses, do something that will make you stand out in a positive way.''

''But what if the other tributes are doing the same thing and attract more attention than we do?'' Natalie asks, leaning forward.

''Then do something drastic. Actually, don't even think about it that way because someone out there will be looking at you,'' Relmo assures.

''How do you know that?'' Natalie deadpans.

''Just look at you two!'' Chantell exclaims. ''I've mentored many attractive tributes, but you two take the cake. Never have I beheld such gracious faces. Natalie, you're not beautiful in a classical way, with flowing blonde curls and ivory skin; no piercing green eyes – but in your ordinariness, you're stunning. Something radiates from within you that could be seen as irresistible to both males and females. Guys in the Games are gonna desire you, and girls will court your friendship.''

Oh, no. When Chantell turns to look at me and struts in my direction, I shiver on the inside. Please don't talk about my looks.

''Condor, love,'' Chantell bends down as she stares me in my eyes, placing a soft hand under my chin and caressing my cheeks with her thumb and middle finger. ''You just have the kind of face that stops people in their tracks. I'm sure you're probably used to that, the sudden pause in peoples' natural expressions when they look your way, followed by a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. I could just stand here and play with your tousled honey blonde hair for days because of how thick and lustrous it is.''

''Um, what are you doing?'' Relmo frets. He quickly bounces up onto his feet and holds his arms out in confusion. ''Aren't you my girlfriend? He doesn't need you to be touchy, so what's the deal?''

''Don't be so jealous,'' she winks. ''Besides, I was just trying to build up some confidence. They both have the looks to be sponsored and kept around for a bit, and I wanted to make sure that they knew that.''

''Yeah, maybe that's true, but can we not talk about looks?'' I politely grasp her hand and move it away from my face. ''It's such a sore topic, you know? Listening to people speak about my facial features gets repetitive and annoying.''

''Aw, are you sensitive to that topic?'' she teases, slapping her hand on my arms. ''Come on, someone as strong and defined as you probably pulls all the girls in our District. Your features are basically molded from granite.''

My face flushes bright red. ''I'm serious.''

''It's hard to take you seriously when you look so cute,'' she flat out says.

''Okay, stop!''

''Are you annoyed?''

''Yes, I'm annoyed. I'm trying to ignore this type of discussion, but when you keep testing me like that, it makes it difficult to keep wearing a fake mask.''

''Yeah, Chan,'' Relmo groans. ''What the hell is up with that?''

''I guess he's heard it too many times, huh,'' she jokes. ''Stop being so jealous, would you?''

''Why would I be envious of Condor?'' he counters. ''Besides, even if I was, how am I supposed to control myself when I see you hitting on another guy? No boyfriend wants to see his girl flirting with someone else – especially if he's like six years under your age.''

Making her way over to Relmo and wrapping an arm around his waist, she says, ''Calm down, dude. I didn't mean for it to be that consequential. You know I'd never look at another guy the same way I look at you. I just wanted to make it crystal clear that they have opportunistic advantages over some of the other tributes that we've seen. It could really benefit them if they profited with what they're blessed with, but neither of them seem to be convinced.''

''I know what I'm blessed with,'' I hint, catching their stares. ''Maybe I just don't appreciate it being my main focus.'' Even though your looks and physicality are the only things important about you? What else is there that you have? ''Or anyone else's looks, as a matter of fact.''

Cocking her head to the side, Chantell argues, ''That's the thing. You don't use your looks to get you far. Just by looking at how fit and beautiful you are, people are gonna be lining up to sponsor you. And what happens if you get asked a question about your looks during the interviews? Are you just gonna shut Addison down and run off the stage, and potentially lose the audience's attention?''

No, I wanna say, but I'm not even sure what I'd do if that were to occur. Hesitantly, I open up my mouth, but before I can say anything, Chantell shifts her regard to Natalie.

''And you – don't think I haven't noticed any of your weaknesses. You have such a bland look on your face all the time, and it bothers me. Stop sulking – and yeah, maybe you're not sad, maybe that's just your face, but you need to fix it right now. Nobody is gonna care for a girl whose imperfections stand out more than her beauty. That's not good.''

''How's she supposed to change that if it's natural?'' I ask, looking at Natalie as she descends her head towards her chest. There's a weird look of pain on her face that appears to show anxiety building up inside of her.

''We all learn how to mask our true feelings, and if she wants to survive, she'll find a solution to her problem one way or another.''

What? ''That makes no sense to me. Besides, even if she could, what's the good of enlightenment if there's no way to make a difference? She can smile and look happy as much as she wants, but the reaping won't be undone.''

''That may be true; although, I have confidence that she'll figure it out, but the real question is: will you?''


Lucretia Hanover, District Six


''She's quite pitiful, to say the least,'' I growl, stating my observations as I make note of the District Three female. ''Her verbal outcry is disgustingly humiliating.''

''Do you have anything nice to say at all?'' Lachlan snaps, his hands placed upwards with discontent.

''Are you dissatisfied with my facts?'' I accuse. He looks at me with disbelief in his eyes, as if he's ready to scream and rip his hair out.

''Yes! Because they're not facts!'' he shouts. Placing a hand on my chest, I lean back and give him an undesirable stare. ''Everything that's come out of your mouth so far has been an opinion that no-one here wants to hear. Bree's tired of it, I'm tired of it, and even Dalan's tired of it.''

''And I'm tired of you and I being in the same room together, but I haven't said a thing about it.''

''You told me literally five minutes ago that being in a room with such a poor 'scumbag' like me is the most unfortunate thing that you've ever faced in your life.''

''That's because you're not on the same level as Bree, Dalan and I.''

''What level are you talking about? Wealth? My family is financially stable.''

''Not wealthy enough. Compared to me, you're poor, disgusting, and have no manners,'' I inform. ''Those are only three reasons as to why you will be one of the first few to die. It would be a shame to see you make it past the Bloodbath – a life as terrible as yours should be ended quickly.''

''You're such a fucking bitch.'' There's no trace of sympathy in his eyes for what he just called me, and I gasp, as I've never before in my life ever been called such a foul name. His eyes are narrowed, rigid, cold and hard. The whites in them turn pure black, and his irises glower teal. Symbols, lines and dots form in his eyes, his lethal stare feeling painful and piercing.

''Call me that again, and I'll make sure that my allies kill you slowly.''

''What allies?'' Bree asks, placing a hand on her forehead. Her body's shaking rapidly, but it's a bit difficult to notice. Making note of her surprise, I give her a smug smile and purse my lips.

''The Careers, of course,'' I notify. ''As soon as I saw all six of them volunteer, I knew that it was a go. Although, if I could make any adjustments, I'd replace that arrogant boy from Four with... let's see, the boy from Nine. If their roles were reversed, then we'd be the perfect pack. The boy from Two could fix his attitude a bit, too, but besides that, all of them look wealthy and strong.''

''Since when was it decided that you were in the Pack?'' Bree scoffs.

''I just told you, ever since I witnessed their reapings,'' I repeat. ''You're lucky that you're on a higher status than I am. If you were any other person, I'd put you in your place.''

''I dare you to try and put me in my place.''

Sucking on my teeth, I look away from Bree and say, ''There's no need to try. Honestly, it'd be a waste of time. We're both too good for that type of behavior.''

Lachlan shakes his head. ''Why are you so rude?''

Inclining my own, I reply with, ''I'm not rude; I'm honest. People of your quality have nothing to offer, therefore, you should be silenced.''

''You made us repeat the reaping five times just to make fun of the tributes. That's not rude?''

''You're not entitled to speak to me, do you understand that?''

''And you're not entitled to claim yourself as part of the Career Pack!'' Bree steps in, defending Lachlan.

''Yes, I am. We have already settled on it.''

''There's no we in the Games! What's wrong with you? Only one of you makes it out alive, and if you haven't gotten it through your thick skull yet, your father's fucking money isn't enough to assure your safety! The prosperity that you guys have is merely a joke to these Capitolites!''

Dalan approaches Bree and holds her arm for some reason. Enough is enough. ''Just because you lost all three of your pathetic allies last year doesn't mean that you have to criticize me. Those insignificant janokes died for a reason. Your argument is almost as porous as my mother's logic, Br—''

Before I even know it, Bree's on top of me and a barrage of fists come crashing down against my face. Things go numb quickly, and I'm unsure of whether I'm still conscious or not because of the dim light that's gradually fading.

''Don't ever disrespect people like that!'' I can barely make out her words; they are all jumbled up. ''You leave... Kaster, Beckett and Poet... I better not hear... coming out of your mouth again, you... obnoxious idiot!''

Suddenly, she's dragged off of me with the help of Dalan and Lachlan. While I can hear Bree's legs whooshing through the air and kicking out, I can also understand that she says, ''If I didn't do something, she'd continue to treat people like the carpet she walks on! This isn't the perfect world that she used to live in – serious shit goes down from here on out, and nobody's going to take it from her! Especially not me!''

''Bree, Bree, calm down...'' Dalan's voice goes quiet when the door slams shut, and then they're gone.

I can only gasp for fresh air, as it's gotten more difficult to breathe now. The lack of breath due to the wind being knocked out of me keeps me incapacitated for the time being, and I can only fight to re-inflate my lungs.

Peeking over me, Lachlan clasps a hand over his mouth as he approaches my crumpled body. ''Damn, your eyes are swollen over, and there's bloody spit drooling from your slack jaw... The purple stain above your eyebrow just started to sink into your socket, too.''

It's called a black eye, you uneducated clown, I want to retort when I hear him snort.

''You're now as revolting as you should be – the outside reflects the girl within.''


Aaliyah Ransier, District Eleven


Taking my eyes off of the crystal clear window, I rest my head against my arm as I bring my knees up to my chest, as if watching the window is too much. Night time rolls around quicker than I expected it to, and with each movement of this passing train, the more heavy my limbs become.

My heart begins to slow to a more peaceful beat, the comfort of this bed calling my name. Slowly, my head drifts off to the side, allowing my laden eyelids to close and reopen. I feel the shuttering of my synapses, quietly being lured into slumber.

Then, a knock comes from my door. No response from me. Once again, whoever is outside knocks, and I don't reply. Suddenly, the door thrusts open and Conley walks inside. He gives me a curt nod before slamming the door shut, the noise sounding like a punctuation.

Startled by his unplanned appearance, I jump a little. ''Really?''

''Look at you, with your slightly-pink eyed look and slouched shoulders,'' he laughs. ''If you don't go to sleep soon, this'll turn into an interesting sleepover.''

''Sleepover?'' I inquire. ''When did I ever say that I allowed you to enter my room and come cuddle with me on my bed?''

''Since when did I need your permission to talk to you? After all, I'm the one who's mentoring you.'' I look at him with a long-suffering stare, rolling my eyes and rotating my shoulders. ''And why would you assume that I wanna cuddle?''

''You're basically the dark-skinned version of Gari Salvatore – besides the color, you two are practically the same person. Known around District Eleven as the local fuckboy, the self-proclaimed pussy magnet, and the Victor of the One Hundred Sixty-Sixth Hunger Games, ladies and gentleman: Conley Sevaro! Why wouldn't I have my suspicions?''

Slapping his knee and resisting the urge to guffaw, he coughs out, ''Looks like we both have something in common.''

''And what would that be?''

''We're both known for negative things – me with my antics, and you for being just like your brothers.''

When he says that, I don't feel quite so tired anymore. ''Oh, and you know that I'm exactly like my brothers, how?''

''People talk about you,'' he answers. ''Almost everybody knows you three. You aren't surprised, are you?''

''I'm not.'' I can't stand this conversation; I can't stand being around anyone in general right now. Think of something fast. ''God, I hate life because of people like you who are so quick to jump to conclusions. You make me want to slit my wrist and bleed to death.''

''Man, you're really unlikable and pessimistic.''

''Wow, I totally care, right? Because the opinions of idiots like you definitely matter to me.'' Thinking of something else to remark, I add, ''Is that why Cythrie doesn't want to mentor me?''

''No, I just wanted you to myself.''

''Well, you got me. Can you go now?'' I turn away from him, gesturing with my hands and averting my attention back to the window.

Even my mentor isn't able to see me as my own person. Instead, he's just like everyone else and compares me to my brothers. They're all mad quick to surmise.

''At least make yourself approachable,'' he tries.

''No. What's the point? Attempting to please people at this stage in life is fruitless. Right now, I don't care whether people think I'm nice, mean, pretty, ugly, or whatever. Nothing's gonna change.''

''Aaliyah, you don't even understand how dire of a situation you're in. The opinions of people in Eleven don't matter anymore, but the citizens in the Capitol... they're your ticket to victory.''

''Conley, get out. I don't care.''

''Aaliyah, if you'd just listen to m—''

Grabbing the first pillow that my hand comes into contact with, I turn around and fling it at Conley, silencing his words. ''Get out!''

Backing up, he holds his hands in the air as if he's surrendered, and quietly makes his way to the door, placing one of his hands on the knob. I'm used to dealing with ignorant people, but for once in my life, I thought it'd be different. Just a little bit.

Closing my eyes, I wait until the door opens and closes, but the sound never comes. When I open them once more, Conley's got a hand on my shoulder, the other pointing at the window.

In the far distance, way high up in the sky, multiple skyscrapers tower above the route to the Capitol as great monoliths of concrete and glass. The windows are so large that they remind me of a storefront, but they're so high up that it's impossible to see through them, anyway. It's triple-glazed and so clear that the panorama is like a high definition screen – like the ones at the reaping.

Nocturnal birds fly through the sky, traveling past us, buffeted by the winds that whistle outside of this train. This entire scenery is just so futuristic. ''See how beautiful nighttime is? It's the best time of the day, in my opinion. If we were on a beach right now, the scorching heat of the outside world would surrender to the onshore breeze, and we could stay there without the need to cover every inch of our skin.'' Sounding a bit poetic, Conley continues with, ''The stars would come as if to welcome us back to the hours of comfort and relaxation. We'd sit, our heads tilted toward the sky, observing the constellations and the patina of the moon. You'd be surprised with how long I could sit you up and chatter away at the small hours, lying in some sort of long grass with a backdrop of crickets. I can help you get away from the isolation that you crave.''

I don't want to be here, despite his genuine slur of speech. Even if it means lying to myself, he's kind of growing on me, and I need his assistance. ''How can I trust you?''

''Do you remember Ceres? Do you remember last years' Games?'' he asks, inching his hand downward until it meets mine. Nodding my head, I don't shy away from him grasping it. ''I can get you as far as I got her. And I won't let you down, I promise.''

Okay. Nodding, I sigh with belief, removing his grip from mine and mounting my bed fully, cushioning myself in a warm blanket. ''I trust you.''


A/N: Ayeee! So, it's been like two weeks since my last update. Tbh, I don't know because I've lost track of time. All I know is that last time I said that it's been easier than I thought to manage all the stuff that's on my plate, but I spoke too soon and lied. No way in hell is this stuff easy, and honestly, I'm fed up with school right now. I appreciate the good lucks, but I hope that everyone can relate when I say that studying is stressful. You'd think that with only a week left until exams hit, teachers wouldn't give you homework to do. My Algebra 2 Hon EOC is done, so I can understand having a few packets to work on until the end of school, but if I'm being deadass, I bombed that exam. Hopefully it's curved like a mf because shit had me mad confused. Besides that, everything else is complete ass. I've got an AICE writing test coming up, and my teacher admitted that we wasted half of the year doing stupid poetry projects and now I gotta read this long ass poem within a week, on top of other classes to study for. I mean, I don't blame her because she tried her hardest to get us through this stuff, but I totally blame her.

Anyway, sorry for the little... whatever you call that. Had to get that through with, and when you've expressed it enough multiple times in real life, it's good to throw it out online. Okay, now the chapter? I know that not everyone likes the c-word - I think some people find it offensive, but Darren's character, in my mind, I see as this really grumpy British-sounding guy that isn't afraid to let his tongue loose. And I hear a ton of British people in YouTube videos and just random comedy skits calling others cunts, so I dunno what type of effect that has on others. Doesn't bother me, but that doesn't mean that some readers out there don't take offense to it, so I'm sorry if it hurts you or something. But yeah, that's why I put as a notice that there'd be cursing, and I just write whatever I picture these tributes letting out. And we all know that teens (some, most, the majority of us) have like, no filter. So... Besides all that, only four more weeks till summer vacation. I'll be able to let my foot off the pedal and allow the gas to run out, and then maybe I'll have consistent updates. I've never been one to have a schedule; it's always been whenever I can get the chapters up, so bear with me, please. Questions, now?


Favorite tribute, why?

Least favorite, why?

Opinions or predictions for these five?

Say your partner helps you through your stages of grief after being reaped, and with being thankful, you offer him/her an alliance. Instead of saying yes, he/she rejects you and basically calls you undesirable. Whatcha doin'? I hope not everyone says that they'd move on and just forget about it, because that'd be borinnnngggggggg.


Well, that's it. Oh, and I've changed up the name format. I see that a lot of people wanna see the name and District, so I'll fix that in the other chapters tomorrow. Later on in the story I'll remove it, because I think you'd all be accustomed to the tributes by then, and I just prefer the name only style. Hope that helps things become much more clear. It's late over here where I am, and I'm about ready to go to sleep. And, to anyone who's sent me messages through PM, Skype, SC or whatever other social media that y'all hmu on, my bad for the late or absent replies. School's the excuse, and yeah, it takes like two seconds to respond, but when you're completely over it but still wanna do good, your mind focuses on one thing only; at least, mine does. So, I'll do my best to get back to you guys as quickly as I can. Thanks for being patient, and I hope that no-one's thinking that I'm ignoring them. Ight, I'm over this for now. See y'all in the next chapter, and have a good night/morning/whatever! ^-^