Yaaayyyy! Early updates! The reason this is early is because I wanted to get another chapter out before my giant road trip. So I'll be gone about a month with minimal wifi. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! Thanks to Guest, whoever you may be, for submitting this tribute!

Saphron Callohan, age 17, District 7

I had never understood the cheering.

The Capitol hated us, right? Then why would they squeal in happiness when the announcer proclaimed we would be out in one minute? Why weren't they booing? Why weren't they throwing stuff in our direction?

I asked Erik his opinion on the matter. Of course, I had to shout over all the noise. He turned to me, his face white even under all his makeup.

"They're happy because..." I couldn't catch the rest. His voice was very hard to hear, especially since he had barely spoken above a mutter as soon as he was reaped. That was odd, considering how talkative he used to be.

"WHAT?" I shouted. "SPEAK UP!"

He brought his lips to my ear, probably getting foundation in my hair, but who even cares? "Because we're going to o-our deaths."

Oh.

Right.

I always kinda forgot about the dying part of the Hunger Games. When I volunteered, all I thought about was winning. The prize money was most important. I could finally get my brother a cure that worked.

But if I didn't come back...

Yes, this had crossed my mind before. But I had always pushed it out of my brain, telling myself, You just have to win. For Oliver.

But really, was a joining death match the best way to help out?

The lurch of the Seven chariot beginning to move jolted me out if my doubts.

One step at a time, Saphron.

Somehow the cheering intensified as the One chariot emerged.

"Loud, huh?" I tried to say, but even I couldn't hear my voice. Erik gave no indication that he had noticed, only staring forward with wide eyes.

The Fives had already made it out, then the Sixes, then I squinted as the world brightened around me.

I figured I might go deaf.

I wanted to look around, but it was quite windy and my blonde hair—my stylist insisted that it should be in ringlets—was whipping all over my face. I peeled a strand off my tongue.

Yep, that's me. Sponsors come running.

The chariots gathered in a semicircle around the president and he made some speech.

"Representing your District in these Games is a great honour," he was saying.

"Oh, yeah," I muttered. "A great honour. Hey, Erik, why don't you tell Mr. Snow up there how honoured you are to be killed?"

Erik flinched. Perhaps I had gone too far. He had never really struck me as the sensitive type; nobody who hung around Naomi ever was. They were a cute couple, short-lived as it was, but Erik had always remained friendly and energetic. The reaping had changed him somehow.

Another wave of eardrum-rupturing cheering interrupted my musing. With an unsteady lurch our chariot turned and headed back to the stables, passing the masses of Capitol people.

Fuck you, and you, and you, and you... I thought, my steely brown gaze resting on each overexcited Capitolite. Alright, maybe chocolate brown wasn't the most intimidating eye colour, but a good glare can still get the message across.

We reentered the stables and finally the cheering subsided. I hopped out, stretching my jostled limbs. My ears' ringing filled my head as soon as I noticed it, but I put my thoughts elsewhere, turning to the two beautiful grey speckled horses attached to the chariot. I sang a short, sharp note and both turned towards me.

"Hello," I murmured. One neighed in response. Both tugged at their reins, struggling to come closer to me.

You could say I had a talent with my voice. I could call upon animals, stun people with my scream, or even kill them. Well, I could kill rats, at least. I had never tried it on a real human being.

Soon you'll have the chance, my depressing brain told me.

I took a step closer to the horses, scratching the nearest one and easily finding that sweet spot, this one was below the left ear. The other one snorted in protest.

"Jealous, are you?" I chuckled, patting his neck. The nice thing about animals was that they showed if they trusted you. With humans, well, you could never know if they were going to backstab you or not. I decided I would probably stick with animals as my allies.

"That's right, who needs people?" I muttered, half to myself. I may have had lots of friends back in Seven, but the Hunger Games required a whole new mindset.

I wasn't stupid. I had seen many Games in my life. People who tried to stay themselves were killed. People who had hearts were killed. In the end it was always the cold ones who emerged, whether they had gone in that way or had been battle-hardened. I had taken mental notes for many years, storing up knowledge in case of a situation like this. It was kill or be killed. I would come out a murderer, or come out a corpse.

"Hey!" A voice behind me caused me to jump.

"Must you people always interrupt me when I'm deep in thought?" I sighed jokingly, turning around.

"Are you coming in or not?" A boy whose costume screamed District Eleven was holding open the elevator door open, frowning impatiently. I gave the horses one final pat before cramming myself into the elevator, filled with at least ten kids.

"Nice to get cozy with our fellow tributes," I muttered.

"What fun," deadpanned a girl wedged in front me with an equal amount of sarcasm.

I winced as something sharp dug itself into my left side. "Watch it, will you?" I grunted in the general direction, batting at the offending object, probably a costume piece. The girl attached to it jumped back, staring at me with fearful, guilty eyes.

In a flash I recognized her from the recaps, matching her costume to District Five. She looked even more freaky in person, frail and malnourished, like if I poked her she would collapse. Her teeth and nails looked sharp, and the thing that was poking me was not part of her costume. It was a blade, sticking out from her forearm and jabbing a different boy, who shoved her away with an annoyed growl. Just then the elevator arrived at the fifth floor, and the girl stepped out without a word.

The next stop was floor Seven, and I grabbed Erik's arm and squeezed out. "I hate to leave such an enlightening conversation, but this is my stop." The doors closed on grim faces, nobody reacting to my antics.

"Party poopers," I grumbled. "What, is everyone having an existential crisis or something?"

Erik turned around. "Have you ever considered that some people just don't want to die?"

That might've been the longest sentence he had said since the reaping. It was a true one, too. One that I didn't really have an answer to.

I honestly hadn't really considered the feelings of the other tributes. All that concerned me was getting home to me family. But the other tributes had families, too. They had happiness that they were ripped away from. They had lives I would have to take.

But still, I had a good reason. Oliver needed me. And I was going to win, for him. So maybe I would have to kill other people to save him. He was my brother. He meant the world to me.

It would probably scar me for life. The Hunger Games weren't made to be fun. It was the least fun game in the world.

It would be worth it. But it was going to suck.

Ugh, chariot chapters are so hard to write! I hope this was good, since I really don't know. What do you think of Saphron? How about Erik, my own invention? DID I MENTION I MADE A FORUM? Yes I did, but really only one person has checked it out, so find the little link on my profile and go be weird! Bye for now!