A/N. I need more bloodbath tributes! So far I only have three! So please submit more. If not your tributes, instead of coming in at 8th or 4th or something they may be forced to die at the bloodbath. It's making the death lineup really hard to make since everyone has been submitting tributes and requesting them to come top 8.

Strong tributes are great, but having too many is not a good thing. It makes figuring out the Victor extremely difficult.

Marrisa Zale, District 4, Female, age 16

The dummies head fell off and landed on the ground with a satisfying Clump. I smirked victoriously and wiped the sweat off my forehead. My training partner troy standing next to me. An expression of mock satisfaction plastered upon his face.

I am Marrisa Zale. My mother was a general on the battlefield. Front lines. Being her daughter I need to live up to standards. Even if she's dead now. She died in a boating accident. Not uncommon for people in District 4. The fishing District. One of the more loyalist District might I add.

My father and siblings had been devastated. But I had a feeling it hit me the hardest. See, I always had a feeling I was my mother's favorite. She had always payed extra attention to me. She had trained me from the age of six for the rebellion. That was 5 years before it actually started.

See, my mother was a smart woman. She had heard talk of an uprising. An uprising that would perhaps happen in the near future. Unlike all the other important government officials, she didn't just think that the nation of Panem would stay calm and peaceful forever. No. She knew that a rebellion would happen sooner or later.

She trained me for it. In secret of course. She was not allowed to voice her concerns. She had to be a figure. If she had anything to worry about she would report it directly to the president.

The president brushed aside these concerns and continued on with ruling the way he had been since his first day as president. After my mother's death I just kept training harder. With my best friend Troy of course. Him and I had been training together for as long as I could remember.

I smiled at him and grabbed my trident. I was good with a sword, but a trident will forever be my weapon of choice. I know guns were the weapon fir most, but my mother hadn't let a five year old hear a gun, but now looking back on it, neither was the best choice. At all. She should have just shown me how to use a slingshot instead. Now that would be useful. Note the sarcasm.

We sparred for a bit. Finally I managed to pin him down. The three pointy tops of my trident pointed at his face. We would never actually harm each other. So my weapon was about three centimeters away from his face. His blue eyes were sparkling as he gently declared me as the victor. I rolled my eyes as he seemed to do a sort of crowning, with a piece of rope he found on the floor, covered in dirt and sweat. I gagged as he placed it onto my head, quickly shaking it off. He laughed.

I helped him up after he dropped to floor. Saying, "For a second I thought you were actually going to chop my face off." We both laughed at that. And for a second I felt bad. According to my now deceased mother the other districts weren't as nice as ours. If someone were to say that to anyone the perpetrator would have been whipped or killed.

I shivered. I Couldn't imagine punishments so severe.

Troy must've noticed my discomfort because he slung an arm around my shoulder. he didn't ask what I was thinking about, to which I was grateful. I sighed into him, hoping he didn't notice, the slight chuckle coming for a certain boy suggested otherwise. I glared up at him. "That ugly face of yours is already damaged as is." It was supposed to come out in a teasing tone, but instead it sounded serious.

His arm immediately fell off my shoulder and rested at his side. He mumbled a quick, "Yeah, whatever." I shrunk, I hadn't meant to offend him. Sometimes I rubbed people in the wrong way. But honestly, I wish he would learn to take a joke. We have our whole lives ahead of us, he's going to have to deal with it. I looked at his muscled arms which were beaded in sweat. Then I looked at my own.

My strong, athletic arms were slightly bruised and had a few minor scrapes. I had some scars from all my training sessions. I ran my finger along one and I shivered when I got to my oldest one. It was from when I was six and had just started learning how to use a sword. You can imagine how that turned out.

My black curls fell in front of my eyes and I hadn't realized that my head was so dangerously low in shame. I propped it back up and held my chin in the air high. Troy should know I hadn't meant to offend him. I turned my head away from him. I huffed out a sigh and kept walking.

We walked home, where my father was waiting. To say he was a little distant would be an understatement. After my mother's death he became a little lost in his own world. He still cared for us, he talked to us, played with us, payed for us. But something changed, it was subtle. The other members of our District didn't notice but we did.

My sister Sophie and brother named Chase were nowhere to be seen. They were probably in their rooms doing who knows what.

Our house was considered a mansion. With all that money from my mother we couldn't simply live in an old rundown shack now could we? So my mother had bought a beautiful mansion. It was gorgeous really. The blue walls matched her eyes exactly. Troy guided me inside, even it should have been the other way around, we both nodded a quick hello to my father and went up stairs.

"I'm sorry. I was just teasing you know." I very reluctantly muttered out my apology. It sounded a little forced but Troy understood. We had been best friends for ten years. He had learnt to deal with my quirks.

He smiled at me, showing off his pearly white. "But can you please get off my bed, your sweat is contaminating it!" This time he understood that it was a joke.

"Yes, because you too, are sweat free." He rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"I'm not as bad as you." He crossed his arms in mock hurt. And I just smiled smugly at him before rolling my eyes.

"Weawwy?" He questioned. Jutting out his bottom lip. I burst into laughter. And not long after he followed. We were having the time of our life until my door creaked open and the face of my sister Sophie appeared. She looked a lot like me, same black hair, except she had cut hers short, while mine fell to about my waist hers just barely touched her shoulders. Our eyes were significantly different as well, mine a light blue, hers a dark green. Both colours of the sea.

"Listen, I don't want to interrupt anything going on between you two," We stopped laughing as our faces turned a light crimson, "BUT WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?!"

She then slammed the door and we burst into another fit of giggles. "I'm so amazing I'm Sophie, everyone shut up."I started impersonating my younger sister Sophie. Triy was laughing horribly, then joined in by, very badly, trying to sound like my older brother. He sounded like a dying hamster. "Look I'm Chase." His arms then did an awkward gesture at which I couldn't help but laugh at.

Next I did my dad. And by that time Troy was wiping away some tears.

"Who's next, your mom?"

My eyes shot up towards him and my features turned scary. My normally calm sea blue eyes now taking on a dangerous shade of green. I hated when people mentioned my family. I gulped and staggered back, looking at me with guilt.

He looked ashamed as he sputtered out many apologies. "Why don't we take a break for tonight? You can go home now." I gave him a light smile. he just looked down, ashamed, at his shoes. "Sorry."

I muttered a quick response, something along the lines of, "It's Kay."

Before he walked out I almost changed my mind and asked him to stay. Sometimes I acted like a guy. Most people would call me a tomboy. But at that moment my inner girl shot out. Normally I tried to conceal the fact I was more boy-ish than other girls my age. But my mother had trained me for war, how was I suppose to learn Etiquette?

Tomorrow I would apologize to Troy, he just forgot that I didn't have a mom. He was too caught up in the heat of the moment. He had a mom, so sometimes he just forgets and assumes that I do too. I got dark when anyone mentioned my family, but Troy was different.

I sighed, sometimes I wish life could go back to before the war. There were already talk about punishment, punishment like we've never seen before , games. How games can be punishment, I'm not sure. Maybe life is different in the other Districts, maybe, just maybe. And I wish I could see hem, how cool would that be?

Imagine what Distruct 8 would look like, they do make all our clothes. In my subconscious, it's very colourful, full of life. But I'm pretty sure my subconscious is wrong, because I doubt anything could be that cheery after the war. The war had changed us all. For better or worse? I have no idea.

So that was Marrisa. She was challenging because I had to change some things with her. First of all her mother couldn't have been a Victor because this was the first games, so I made her a high government official instead. And Marrisa couldn't have trained for the Games since she was six considering she only found out about them this year. Hope the changes work for you.