I've Just Seen A Face Chapter 3: Dear Prudence, a hunger games fanfic

A/N: Beatle Song #3: Dear Prudence. This songfic was written while procrastinating a paper, so it's very short. Hope everyone likes it!

Thanks to Call Me Bitter, Hopelessy Unromantic, and Prideisarrogance for reviewing, you all made me smile! Like, lots! :D

Dear Prudence is owned by the Beatles, and Hunger Games is owned by that awesome lady, Suzanne Collins.

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play
Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day
The sun is up, the sky is blue
It's beautiful and so are you
Dear Prudence won't you come out to play

Glimmer had been waiting for this day all year: Reaping Day. She was continuously battling on the inside between fear and excitement, right up to the very moment she volunteered to be a Tribute. She disguised her inner battle and instead smiled and waved as she climbed the stage. People were applauding for her, and she loved every minute of it. She tried not to show the inklings of terror that had begun to spider around her shaky fingers as the full weight of the Games dawned on her. They were beautiful fingers, too beautiful to be marred by something as ugly as fear. Besides, now she was a star. And when she came back, all the fame, honor, and glory would be hers.

Glimmer knew she could murder, and she knew she wouldn't blink an eye as she did. She was a beautiful ice-queen. But Glimmer could never know her death would make her as ugly on the outside as she was inside.

Dear Prudence open up your eyes
Dear Prudence see the sunny skies
The wind is low the birds will sing
That you are part of everything
Dear Prudence won't you open up your eyes?

Rue didn't realize what she was getting into when she was reaped. Sure, she knew she would be a contestant on the Games. She knew she would be hunted, turned into a monster, stripped of everything she ever was.

She almost felt like she should sing her mockingjay song, as she stared out into the crowd from the stage. Work is done, you can all go home. Work was done for her, anyway. One less worker to help feed her family. She knew she needed to win. If she won, her brothers and sisters would never go hungry. That was Rue's knew work.

But what that tiny twelve year old from disparaged District 11 would never know how important she really was. She was the spark to the revolution. Sure, later others would argue that it was Katniss Everdeen, after all, she was the mockingjay. But what started it all for her was a helpless dead girl wreathed in flowers.

Look around round round
Look around round round
Oh look around

When Foxface's name was called, she did not weep, cry out, or quiver. She was resolute as she climbed the stairs to the stage. She knew that every camera was trained on her every move, and if she wanted to get sponsors, she could not show an ounce of emotion if it was not maliciousness.

Foxface also knew she didn't have a malicious bone in her body. But she didn't count herself out. You see, Foxface was smart. She could calculate chances and make game-plans in half a second. She could sneak anywhere undetected, a skill learned from evading Peace-Keepers and snatching food to feed her family.

Yes, Foxface was good at looking around, gathering the most minute details. She was even smarter than her nickname. But what she didn't know was that her confidence in reading people's actions would be what killed her.

Dear Prudence let me see you smile
Dear Prudence like a little child
The clouds will be a daisy chain
So let me see you smile again
Dear Prudence won't you let me see you smile?

Prim Everdeen was anything but smiling when Effie Trinket shouted her name. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Katniss had never even let her take out Tesserae. This was her first reaping. She was only twelve. But Prim knew that Katniss would be strong in this situation, and so would she. She took a deep breath, clenched her fists together, and took the first trembling step towards the stage. She could be strong just like Katniss.

But then the worst happened. Katniss volunteered. Katniss threw herself up on the stage, and ripped Prim away from her. Katniss snatched the only chance Prim had of showing her Prim could be strong.

The worst part was Prim was secretly glad.

Mostly, Prim was terrified, terrified that her strong, resolute sister would never come back. What would Prim do without her? Prim looked up to Katniss for everything. She didn't think their tattered little family could survive without Katniss.

Katniss had been so upset when Prim cried that day. What did she expect? Did she want Prim to smile, when Katniss was being sent to her death? No, not death. Katniss would win. Katniss had to win, because she was a good person; she had saved Prim time and time again.

Prim couldn't know that she couldn't really get away from the Games. The Games were everywhere. Even then, powerful forces were weaving the net that would catch all of them. Prim would die anyway, in a perverted war game.

Clove was happy her name was called. She wanted to show the world what she could do. She could become someone beautiful and powerful, like Enoboria. Clove was never considered beautiful like Enoboria. She scared people; her countenance was sly and violent, her temper furious, and if anyone got on her bad side, they knew they should run.

Clove was born to play the games. And people would see she was beautiful through her murders. They'd see she was an artist. They'd see she was cunning. They'd see she was a better tribute than Enoboria ever was.

Clove didn't know the Games would crush her, and if she did she wouldn't care. She just wanted to prove herself before she went.

When they lowered Clove into the arena, her sole thought was: come play, tributes, come out and play.