Author's Note (Dec. 27, 2013) - This story is the 72nd Hunger Games. Yes, it used to be the 71st, until I realized Johanna won the 71st, which I'm surprised no one ever pointed out. So, wherever you see it mention the 71st, it's actually the 72nd. Thanks a lot! PS, if you're reading this, I'm still here. Reviews are always appreciated, just keep in mind, this was my first story ever, so be gentle!

How long
How long will I slide
Separate my side
I don't, I don't believe it's bad
Slittin my throat
It's all I ever
Turn me on take me for a hard ride
Burn me out leave me on the other side
I yell and tell it that
It's not a friend
I tear it down, I tear it down
And then it's born again

Finnick

I'm pacing. Pacing. Always pacing. I look toward the massive Capitol bed where Annie's tiny body is engulfed in soft blankets. She looks so peaceful when she's asleep, when she's not having nightmares of course.

Thankfully she didn't see the first beheading, the poor little girl from Eleven. I recall how almost every mentor in the viewing room screamed in absolute horror when it happened. Seeder had been beside herself with grief. Obviously, there had been virtually no hope for Lucy to win the Games, but no one deserved to die by such horrific means.

I stop pacing and turn back to the television when I hear someone begin to speak. I sit down in front of the screen and bring my fingers to my lips. Five years of this and it never gets better. Never.

Yes it does, Finnick. At least this year you're not sending the love of your life into the arena. At least you didn't lose her.

I turn to look at Annie's sleeping form once more. In her sleep, her face looks calm and youthful, not marked by the stress and worry and fear of the daytime. I feel tears in my eyes and force myself to look away. It could be worse. I could be in this position without her, but I'm not. She made it. She lived because of me, and I have to believe I can do the same for Aurora or Harbor. Preferably Aurora.

I turn back to the screen, split between the insane girl from Nine, roasting a rabbit's carcass over a small fire, Aurora and her allies, walking through the tunnels, and Hana and Harbor, rifling through the supply tent and preparing for their escape. I feel a sense of pride wash over me that Harbor is finally beginning to prove himself.

However that pride is quickly replaced with imminent fear as I turn back to Aurora's screen, noticing for the first time exactly where they are headed. Straight into the Careers' camp.

I look frantically between the door, the screen and Annie's sleeping form. Aurora is walking straight into a death trap, I'm sure of it. Annie and I agreed that she was our choice to win, if we could help it. If I don't get myself down to the Viewing Room soon, I'll be unable to rack up sponsors and send her the supplies she needs to survive.

I make a rash decision and dash out the door, praying that Annie stays asleep through whatever is about to happen on the screen.

Infinity

Never in my nineteen years as a mentor, have I acquired a tribute like Roman. I don't think any mentor has ever seen a tribute like her. I have scarcely left the control room since the Games began, feeling the need to keep a watchful eye on my little one.

I stare at her screen intently, watching as the gleefully skins another rabbit, playing with the blood, painting red designs on the snow white fur. She adds the pelt to her collection and sets off to roast her kill over her crude but sufficient fire. So far she has made due. I have hardly gotten any sponsors for her, though just as well, she hasn't needed them. She has supplies, weapons, a steady water source inside the cave, plenty of food and the means to get it, a shelter far away from the other tributes that any of them have yet to discover.

I hate to get ahead of myself, but District Nine may actually have a victor this year. The other tributes have vastly underestimated my little Roman.

I turn away from the screen and watch for the other tributes. District Two are still unconscious on level three. The boy from Eleven is holding onto his life by a thread, thrashing in fever induced nightmares, undoubtedly about his District Partner. Finnick and Cecelia are on the phone with sponsors, while Woof stares into the TV screen unblinking. I follow his gaze and discover the group known to us as the Anti-Careers are heading straight into the Career camp. Looks like Panem is in for some action.

Yawning, I look back to Roman who has curled up with her several rabbit pelts and is drifting off to sleep. Looking down at my watch I notice that it is nearly four in the morning, and with one last look at Roman, I decide to head off to bed for the first time since the gong.

Surely, nothing can go wrong in a few hours.

Annie

"Finnick! Finnick!" I hardly recognize these screams as my own. In fact, I feel as if I am not in my own body, but an outsider, watching the scene from afar.

I awoke after hearing the door slam, which was evidently Finnick leaving. I didn't think anything of it, but decided to watch the Games after I realized I wouldn't be falling back asleep any time soon.

And that was when it happened. Bravo materialized out of the darkness and took off Aurora's head before anyone could realize what was happening. The haze started to creep in, then. Memories of Lucas flooded my mind before I had a chance to push them away.

The blood.

The glassy, unsuspecting look in his eyes as his head rolled away from his body.

The hallucinations. The nightmares. It was all coming back after I had tried so hard to keep it at bay. I can feel myself losing control with each passing second, yet I cannot tear my eyes away from the screen.

Suddenly it is there again. The sickening sound of blade slicing through flesh and bone, the horrible crack as the skull hits the floor, followed by the body, making a loud thump.

I can't. I can't. I need Finnick.

I disengage completely, giving way to the haze that creeps into the corners of my mind and slowly takes over.

"Finnick! Lucas! Lucas! Mags! Finnick!"

But I am screaming in vain. No one ever comes. I curl into the corner and rock myself back and forth, replaying the image of Lucas in my head.

All the faces blur together and suddenly there are hundreds of heads rolling. They are all at my feet, blank stares capturing their last emotion; fear.

First Lucas's head. Aurora. Holden. Finnick. Mags. Filippa. Avan. My mother and father. President Snow. Seneca Crane. Every person I have ever known is decapitated on the floor with me. I can't control the screams any more. They are controlling me. My hands find my hair, and my fingernails dig into the flesh of my scalp. Stop. Please, stop this. Stop.

The door opens and a blinding white light floods into the room.

"Finnick!" I call out in a hoarse screech.

But it is not him. It is two white Peacekeepers who each grab me by an arm and drag me from the room, kicking and screaming.

"Don't touch me! Don't! Put me back, leave me here. Finnick is coming! I want Finnick!"

One of them reaches out to hit me and searing pain blurs my vision even more and I slowly begin to drift into unconsciousness.

"I don't know why they don't just off this one already. More trouble than good if you ask me."

Enobaria

If I could reach my arms through this screen and rip that girl to shreds, I would. Frankly, I am shocked at her actions. I had been under the impression that she could not wait to kill Crisis. Though I didn't think she would mind all that much if a fire took him opposed to her own knife, at least not enough to be this upset about it. But I know that is not the reason behind her tears. She actually cares about the boy. I saw the look of terror when the room exploded. She does not want him dead, and I doubt she even knew how she felt until it happened. How dare she? How could she show such weakness? I have trained this girl since she was six years old, turning her into a strong, lethal fighter.

There are few, very few, Trainees that I put so much attention into. First there was Tempest, she was the first tribute I mentored, and she was runner up. She would have won, had it not been for her hunger-driven hallucinations leading her straight off of a cliff. District Eight won that year, such an embarrassment. After Tempest I had two girls, Ione and Brynn, that I put every once of my effort into. I put them through hell. I tortured them, I made them train through the night with no rest. I locked them in dark rooms and refused to feed them for days. I tried to drown them. I made them endure unbearable heat and cold. I set them against packs of Trainees, just to see if they could survive, and they did. They both won their games.

I had always taken a special interest in Audrina and her sister, Clove. They had been brought to the Center after their father, a hated victor, had been murdered. There were always rumors that Milo Prescott had tried to train his little girls on his own. He left them to live alone, with nothing but each other, enough food and water just to get by, and a set of knives. They were animals, dehumanized and desensitized to any and all forms of brutality. The psychologist was traumatized after she tried to treat them, they were lost causes. To everyone but me. Their father may have destroyed their humanity, crushed their ability to love and feel, but I could make something out of them. I could make them strong and dangerous. I could make them victors.

Well, I thought I could until that stupid boy had to go and step into that disaster waiting to happen. I hardly recognize the girl on the screen right now, screaming and crying out for him. Does she realize that her sponsors must be dropping like flies?

I run my sharpened fingernails through my jet black hair as she drags his mangled body from the burning room. She shakes him and presses her lips to his, pounding her tiny hands on his chest in a mad attempt to revive him. I lean back in my chair and smirk. The scene is so emotionally charged, it would probably break my heart if I had one.

Suddenly there is a sharp knock on my door. Sighing, I go to answer it. Brutus stands before me with a thrilled look on his face, holding a single sheet of paper. Furrowing my eyebrows I snatch it from him and study it. The sheet is filled with names, silly names, of rich Capitol citizens. Across from each name are donation amounts, immeasurable amounts of money.

"Whatever your girl is doing, its working." Brutus says, gesturing to the screen.

I hand him the paper and cross the room in two quick strides. Amazingly, Audrina has managed to bring Crisis back. He is sputtering up a sickening mixture of thick red blood and ash and his legs and torso are covered in burns, but he is alive.

"Sponsors are pouring in by the minute, I guess the Capitol enjoys a Career who actually has a soul."

"Funny. I was convinced she was hollow inside until this moment, I guessed this would have been her tragic end."

"Looks like the odds are in her favor today." Brutus says, elbowing me in the ribs. I flash him a gold-encrusted smile.

"Alright, what do they need? Looks like we have enough money to send them just about anything."

"That we do. Okay Crisis is going to need burn cream, and lots of it. They'll both need albuterol to clear their lungs and lots of water. Any that they had was most likely destroyed by the explosion."

I nod, and we both head off to the Control room to inform Seneca and then to the official Mentor's Viewing Room. I settle into one of the plush velvet chairs as I watch my tribute. Crisis's head is in her lap and she is silently stroking his hair. Her hears have finally stopped, but she has yet to regain control over her emotions. I smile as the three parachutes drift down. The medium sized one containing the burn medication lands next to her. She pops it open and reads the message I sent with it.

Don't make me regret this, Drina. You better know what you're doing. -E

What I do not anticipate is the look of pure hatred as she stares directly into the camera.

Oh, I'm in trouble.

How did you all like the movie? :) PM me and let me know what you thought!

No deaths in this chapter! Let me know if you would like to see more mentor POVs periodically. :)

IMPORTANT: I have not decided who will be victor yet. So I decided to let the votes influence my decision. I believe that the remaining twelve all have an equal chance of winning. So get everyone you know to come vote for your tribute, because the amount of points each tribute has will influence my decisions regarding their deaths. Remember you can only send votes in reviews, not PMs! Because I get too confused and it all turns into a huge mess.

Go vote on the new poll!

Same thing goes for voting this time around!

This time you may only vote for two tributes, and they will both receive 50 points. Only one may be your own.

Make sure that you write in your review/message which chapter your votes are for since you get one vote per chapter.

Also, make sure to go to www . seventyoneyears . blogspot . com (with no spaces of course!) to see pictures and bios of all the tributes! I updated and changed some since writing this!

*I've decided to give 5 bonus points to each of your tributes if you leave a review! A constructive review, not a review with your votes and that's it. :)

**For more bonus points, go check out these two lovely stories:

The 124th Hunger Games: A Lost Cause by The Silver Panda (My tributes are Scarlet and Arrow, also vote in his poll!)

The 1st Annual Hunger Games! by 73Years (My tribute is Ruby)

Go read and leave them reviews and I'll give your tribute(s) 5 points for each one! Neither of them asked me to promote them, nor will my tributes be receiving points for your reviews, I just think that they deserve some more reads!

Also, the names of Annie's family and friends come from ravenclawfever's story; Annie. Which you should all go read if you haven't! It's amazing!

-Becca