Outscored

Lucas

There's only one thought on my mind as I wake up this morning - the Games begin tomorrow. Part of me thinks this is better than dragging out with the Interviews and whatnot because it shortens the length of time for us to be scared of what's to come. The other part of me wishes that I had just a few more days to stay alive.

I know I'm not going to win. I'm not an idiot. There are smarter, faster, stronger tributes who will undoubtedly outscore me when tonight's Training Scores are released to Panem. I hope I don't embarrass myself.

I don't feel any anger to the districts. I think their actions here are justified. I just wish it wasn't me who is having to be punished for what the Capitol has done. I never even liked the Hunger Games. I was a minority in the Capitol, a stereotype, the radical youth with radical ideas about how the country should be run. Words like 'democracy' and 'rights for all' could get you killed. But it was easier for the Capitol to call us 'ungrateful, good-for-nothing hooligans' than actually kill us. If I could have, I would have joined the rebels in the Capitol and fought to overthrow the government. But I was 'too busy' being trained to become a doctor. It was an act of cowardice on my part - running away and hiding behind an excuse instead of fighting for what I believed in. I'm not the only one who hates the society that the Capitol had built for the districts. Silvan agrees with me completely. So does Tunney. Fallon does too.

All I hope for when these Games are over is that Panem will be at peace forever.

Lenora

"Come on people. In less than 24 hours, we're going to be fighting for our lives in the arena. We have a long way to go until we're ready", I shout at the other people in my alliance. Urban looks ticked off that I'm bossing him around. But I've been preparing for something like this my entire life.

At school, instead of productions or school plays, we had Hunger Games re-enactments. I always got lead roles. I played Katniss Everdeen in the 74th and 75th re-enactments. Some people said that I prepared for the roles too seriously. You don't actually have to learn how to shoot a bow and arrow. There's no need to learn how to build a real fire. Why do you spend so much time watching old footage over and over? The Hunger Games was my life. I lived for them each year. And now I will win my own Games.

I've been drilling Larissa, Urban and Falko around each station for the last two days, making sure that they each have some level of competency at everything. Now I want them to focus on their strengths. You see a similar pattern in victors every year. They each have their own signature weapon. Katniss had her bow. Finnick had his trident. Johanna had her axe. Me? I've got a mace.

At lunch we huddle down at our table and talk urgently in hushed voices. Discussing and refining our battle plan. Who does what at the bloodbath. Which enemy do we take out first. What our Plan B's are.

The other alliances are doing the same. This is going to be a storm.

Innogen

I'm the only one left. Everyone else has gone in for their individual assessments already. Being the last one makes you the most nervous. What happens if I do badly? How much will my training score impact my performance in the Games and opportunities to get sponsored?

My hands are shaking and I'm sweating when my name is announced,

"Innogen Reaves. The Track."

The doors slide open and Lucas walks out. His face is blank so I don't know how well he did.

I get up and walk back into the training room. The Gamemakers invite me to begin but I don't know what to do. I'm not good at anything.

Hot tears slide down my face and I collapse onto the floor. I can hear the Gamemakers murmur among themselves.

"Miss Reaves, why don't you begin by showing us some survival skills."

I'm so embarrassed. I get even more embarrassed when I can't even light a fire using matches. All of my snares collapse as soon as I make them. None of my arrows hit anything close to the targets where they're supposed to go. One even manages to fly to the other side of the room by the knife-throwing station. I want to run back hope and hide away from the world under my blankets. Even standing here requires all the strength I have. Finally one of the Gamemakers clears his throat.

"You may leave now, Miss Reaves."

I haven't even left the room when the tears start gushing again.

Max

I sit with the rest of the tributes in the lobby of the Tribute Centre. A huge television has been installed for us to watch the training scores being announced. Everyone talks in low voices and Haymitch pours himself another glass of spirits.

"What are you hoping for?" Otis asks me, his face white as talc.

"As high as possible, I suppose", I reply. Poor Otis. I asked him and Lily how their sessions went. Lily thought that she did OK - at least well enough to not get a really low score but apparently Otis panicked and screwed up big time. As for myself, I'm pleased. I avoided weapons entirely, but my fire lit on the second attempt, all my edible plants memory skills were satisfactory and I did the Gauntlet obstacle course quickly and without mistakes.

Haymitch turns on the TV and flicks to the channel with the woman who is reading out the scores. It's neither Caesar Flickerman nor Claudius Templesmith - everyone knows what happened to them after the rebels invaded the Capitol. It's just some district woman, plain brown hair and simple reading glasses.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. May I turn your attention to tonight's programme. After much deliberation, the Gamemakers of this year's Hunger Games have generated scores for the tributes after two-and-a-half days of intensive training. These scores represent the level of ability of the tributes to perform successfully in the Hunger Games. Let us begin." She picks up a piece of paper in front of her.

"Drusilla Cabain. The Barrier." The freckled girl with the pink pigtails sitting at the front sits up a little straighter. "Drusilla has scored a 3." No-one says a word. Drusilla breaks down quietly, her head in her hands.

"Also from the Barrier is Vyctor Grey. He receives a 5." No comments there either.

"From the Belt comes Summer Seaworth with a score of 4."

"What?" Summer cried incredulously. "I thought I did really well. They can't do that. Make them redo the scores. This is so biased and unfair." Lorna tries to calm her down as the next score is announced.

"Alec Jaken from the Belt is awarded a 7." This is met by gasps. The first decent score. Alec blushes, but looks pleased. Silvan claps him on the back and Lucas smiles.

"Lorna Hewes arrives to us from the Border. She has received a 4." Now it's Lorna's turn to protest and argue with the results. Both Summer and Lorna pout for the rest of the announcement.

"Her Precinct partner Urban Sontis is awarded a very impressive 8." Urban whoops and punches his fist. The other members of his alliance clap and cheer.

"Junia Perce from the Breakwater has been given a 3. Silvan Artemis, also from the Breakwater, has been awarded a score of 5." Disappointed groans from Silvan and more crying from Junia.

"The Court's Fallon Hadley scores a 6." Fallon nods and her teammates smile and whisper congratulations.

"Broden Stark from the Court has been given a 5."

"Lenora Hestia. The Jack. Oh my goodness… Lenora has scored a 10! A 10, ladies and gentlemen!" The room erupts with cheer from Lenora's alliance. She smiles smugly. It's Career smug. I hope she dies.

The training score lady has obviously sensed some disruption because she ushers the viewers to calm down. "Next is Otis Bruen from the Jack too." I look nervously at Otis. He's gone green. "Otis has scored a 3." I grimace. I can see tears in his eyes.

"Don't worry Otis", Lily whispers reassuringly. "We'll be OK. It's not the end of the world."

"Fausta Greer comes to us from the Plaza. She has scored a 4. Meanwhile, Fausta's Precinct partner Cicero Merriweather has been awarded a score of 5." Fausta and Cicero exchange glances. Cicero looks very surprised, like he didn't expect to do so well.

"Lily Snow. The Pulse." Lily breathes in and holds her breath. "Lily scores a 5 as well." She exhales. I can't read her expressions. Is that relief or panic?

"The Pulse also brings us Falko Mirren. The Gamemakers have given him a 9. Well done, Falko." Yet again more cheering. That's three of the four in that alliance who have scored in Career range, while the rest of us suffer through 4s or 5s.

"Larissa Venti from the Ridge." Oh no. I'm next. My heartbeat suddenly accelerates into action. "Larissa receives an 8." More cheering and whooping and high-fiving. Lenora looks so smug that it looks like she'll explode.

"Max Canter also from the Ridge." My heart stops. Please don't be low. Please don't be low. "He scores a very respectable 6." Air whooshes out of my lungs in relief. 6. 6 is good. I can live with 6.

"Tunney Sinclair from the Skyline has been awarded a score of 9. Congratulations, Tunney." Tunney looks shocked, but her teammates explode in celebration in an apparent mockery of the other alliance. Lenora and Larissa sneer at them.

"Oberyn Newcastle from the Skyline is hot on her heels with an 7." At this point I know that we have no chance. If you look at the scores people have been given, my 6 is the highest score in our alliance, Alec's 7 is the highest score of any person not in the two big alliances and within the two big alliances themselves, the lowest score has been an 8. We're doomed. And I don't think that I'm the only person who realizes that.

"Sergia Rookwood from the Spear has been given a 8. Corsan Valeria from the Spear has been awarded an 8 too. Well done. And lastly, the Track brings us Innogen Reaves and Lucas Farren. They score a 2 and 7 respectively." Innogen doesn't even have to ask what 'respectively' means. Even though we're about to fight to the death tomorrow, I still pity her. Her 2 is the lowest score. It's got to be hard to deal with and now she'll have it hanging over her head tonight. Innogen isn't going to get any sleep tonight. Then again, none of us will.

Haymitch turns of the TV, cutting of the announcer's ending remarks and dismisses us to bed.

"You've got a big day ahead of you." Ain't that the truth.

Lorna

I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die.

This is the only thing I can think of. The thought won't let me sleep, even though it's well into the early hours of the morning. The bed sheets are a mess from how I've tossed and turned. I can imagine what my hair looks like.

I've already vomited several times and my pyjamas are soaked with sweat. I look out of the window and to the beautiful night lights of the Capitol. I could smash the window easily - but then what would I do? Not jump, but perhaps try and find an escape. I'm sure that someone has tried to do this in the past. I watch the cars go by for an hour before fatigue overtakes fear. I return to my bed.

Almost all of the other tributes outscored me. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I have never been brave. I don't think I ever will be.

Going to sleep knowing that this is your last night ever isn't something that many people get to experience. I would never wish it on anyone.