-Matt-

Lying on my back across the couch, I tossed the apple in the air, hoping that something would come to me. I had been at this for four hours, and I could only stare at the wall, the same few ideas ricocheting in my mind. Catching the apple and setting it on the coffee table, I started talking out loud to myself in an attempt to pretend like I was progressing forward.

"Okay, so finding him and just stabbing him in the back is a no-go. The Capitol would not hesitate to outright kill me. If they saw me walk up and shank him, I would be caught immediately and executed." I paused. "I could try to make it look like an accident. But, on the other hand, they have cameras everywhere, watching us with equal intensity as during the Hunger Games themselves. And even if I could get around the security, if I am anywhere near that kid, they will suspect me. I could convince someone else to do it, but the only one who will be with that kid is other guys in District 3, and they act way too clean to do anything like this. Dammit."

Most of my indignation at him and his superior score had redirected over the last few hours. Now, it was focused mainly at myself. Cupping both my hands around my face, I cursed my past self.

"Why did I do that? I could have just handed him the weight without insulting him." I brought back the image of the bespectacled boy from District 3. "Aaron. Aaron. Aaron." I punctuated each word with punch to my head. "Now that I pissed him off, I'm sure he has it out for me, and he got a twelve." Glancing over at the blank television from which this news was announced, I sighed. "Well, there are three options. First, he actually got a twelve, in which case as soon as we get into the arena, he's going to find me, and I'll be dead. Second, he has connections with the Gamemakers. The Gamemakers are his friends and will explode me or something when I get into the area, and I'll be dead. Third, he's a master trickster, which means I'll probably be in an "accident" and not even make it to the arena. Oh, yeah and I'll be dead."

"Fuck."

Out of ideas, I surveyed the room for (hopefully) spontaneous inspiration, like in the stories of great heroes on their quests. It usually just happens for them. Above, a fan slowly span around, nicely reflecting the endless circles my mind has been traveling in. In front of me, the apple sat, motionless, next to a pair of notepads and pens Zach, Rachel, and I had been doodling with. The couch squeaked under my skin, as I repositioned myself against leather. Everything seemed so boring.

"If I want any chance of living through this thing, Aaron has to die." I smashed my fist against the table dramatically. Behind me, the door creaked open. Confused, as Zach and Rachel had left me hours ago, laughing off my seriousness, I flipped my head to look at the door.

Peeking into the room, I could see the eyes of the small Avox girl. I wondered why she reacted so quickly to my movement, but, I realized, she had been trailing behind me like a background character this whole week. Following me like a ghost, I had barely even noticed her. My eyes lit up. This is perfect.

After waving her into the room, I turn back around, feigning disinterest. I could not hear her foots steps on the carpet as she passed behind me. Like a phantom, she materialized in my peripheral vision, bowing lightly to me. Pretending to take great interest in the reflection of myself in the blank television, I glanced over to her. With an experienced motionless, she awaited a reason for why I called her in here.

Patting the sofa by my side, I tried to give her a genuine smile. "Come over here. I have a favor to ask you." I deep look of confusion swept her face, before she nodded and floated to my side. Though her face reformed back into a cold lack of expression, her eyes maintained a powerful curiosity. I would say that those blues eyes were more powerful at piercing through armor than any weapon I've ever trained with.

"You can cook, right?" Immediately in response to my question, she lifted to her feet to go to the kitchen. Raising my eyebrows, I let out a small chuckle. "No, no. I don't want you to make me something." Fear grew on her face with a surprising intensity. Smiling at her, I attempted to relieve her tension. "It's alright. Sit back down." The look of fear became a small blush as she sat back down on the couch.

"So, anyways are you good at cooking?" She nodded. "Are you one of the people that has been gracing everybody with such magnificent meals?" A tiny smile, barely noticeable if not for the contrast with her previous mood, curled up her face. "Does everybody, that is to say, all of the other tributes, get to have your delicious cooking? She nodded again, slightly more enthusiastically than before.

"At this point, you must be an expert, right. You know what to do; you know what not to do with food." Slower than last time, she nodded her head.

"That's good. It'd be bad if anyone were to get sick or something." Before she could process anything, I continued forward. "How long have you been cooking such wonderful things?" She opened up her lips, and then closed them, instead raising seven fingers up to her face.

"Seven days? Just long enough for us tributes." She shook her head, again putting up seven fingers. "Oh okay. Seven months of training is needed for this kind of caliber." Shaking her head harder, she put up seven fingers right in my face. Evidently, communicating like this wasn't going to work very well.

"Here, wait a sec." Turning around, I brushed off the crumbs of food from the binder Zach, Rachel, and I had been doodling on. Ripping out the front page (on which Rachel had made a big game of MASH to entertain us), I handed her a pen and the papers.

"Do you know how to write?" I didn't know much about Avoxes. My parents told me a story of them to get me back into line after a particularly severe series of pranks. They told me that Avoxes had committed terrible crimes against the Capitol. They deserved outright death, yet in their mercy, the great city delivered them from death, instead taking their ability to speak. Avoxes then serve the Capitol to remove them of their sins. Other than that, I suspect that my parents didn't know much more about Avoxes themselves.

Reverently, she picked up the pen and drew it across the paper. She flipped the notebook around to me.

Thank you .Yes, I can write.

"Great. So anyways, how long have you been here?" No longer needing to move her head, her eyes sunk permanently to the page, flipping the book each time she needed to give an answer.

Seven years.

Though catching me off guard, I transformed my initially surprised look into one of cool acceptance. "Interesting, at any point in that time, did you ever feel afraid, afraid that someone could kill you?"

Glancing up from her page, she looked around at the ceiling. She began to put down the paper, but I cut her off. "Don't worry. The camera is directly behind you, so as long as you keep the notebook down, it won't be able to read anything." Turning her head so that her eyes could barely check the camera, her shoulders rested, and she flipped the notebook to answer my question.

Yes, almost every day.

"Then we're friends, because I'm having the same feeling."

Why?

Unprovoked, she had the flipped the notebook to show me her question. I can deal with improvisation, but I wish things would just follow the plan.

I began my epic monologue. "There's this kid, Aaron from District 3. He got a twelve from the judges. By my guess, he has to be a killing machine, trained thoroughly in the arts of murder after years of training."

Aren't you the same thing, Career?

"Uh, well I have trained, but it's different." I got back on track with my speech. "He's out to get me before it has even started. He's going to kill me, and I have no chance against it." I started to lay it on thick, for the climax was at hand. "You and I, Avox girl, are subject to this fear together. We have to live in this fear, that we are going to get murdered on a daily basis. It is those people, like Aaron or the scum of the Capitol that force this upon us every single day of our lives. Do you think this is right?"

She could have nodded, but instead she scribbled on the margin: No.

"Well then, do you agree with me? Will you help me do something?"

She pointed at her first sentence. Staring at my confused face, she looked down at the notebook and twice circled to the yes she had been pointing to. Everything was all going according to plan.

"I'm glad you agree. Now, here's the plan. Leave here and go find some basic cleaning supplies, I'm sure you have bleach and drain cleaner and the like. Here's a list of exactly what to mix together." I bulleted a list of necessary chemicals, and handed it to her. "Even a small dose of this will do the trick. While doing this, cook his breakfast, so the smell masks the fumes of the chemicals. Pick something that has a heavy odor, fish maybe. Pour about a tablespoon into whatever he's eating. He'll be done with the first bite. By tomorrow afternoon, I'll be fine and he'll be dead. " Finishing my instructions, I stared at her. Once she does this, I'll be home free.

No,

"What?"

She added on to her sentence: No, I won't do that.

Trying to keep as calm as possible with all the anxiety now running through my veins, I sputtered out my words "You just promised that you would help me. Are you afraid of getting caught? Because I know what I'm doing, there's no need to be afraid."

No, I'm not afraid about being caught.

Desperation starting to sink in, I began to plead. "What? Do you want something? If I win I can give you gold, I can promise you fame, I can give you everything and anything."

Can you give me back my family?

"Well…I…um."

What makes you better than this boy, Aaron?

"He's going to kill me!"

Isn't that what you're trying to do?

"Yeah, but I told you it's different."

Her pen furiously marked across the page, and she flipped over the page to the next side. In awkward silence, I waited until she finished her rant, which she then shoved into my face.

Is it really that different? Do you really think you're different from that boy or anyone else here? After the Capitol took my parents away from me, I spent seven years alone in here. Every year, idiots like you come in and think they're special. They think they are smarter than everyone else or stronger or whatever. But all I see you do is hurt each other. Why are you so eager to do the thing that the Capitol is forcing you to do? Huh, Career?

Gently, I handed back the notepad to her. She swiped it away from hand, avoiding eye contact with me. Throat dry, each breath I took hurt just a little. The silence, now more powerful than I'd ever felt it before, pressed against me. It pushed in against my lungs, making each of those small breaths not only painful, but difficult as well. Finally, I gather the courage to speak.

"I'm not eager, though."

Why are you here then?

"I don't know if you know, but this year's reapings were a little different. The Capitol had promised the thirty smartest people in the Panem to be granted a chance at riches, fame, and happiness. All my life, my family had been training me for the Hunger Games. But not many Careers come from District two, so I would have had to train alone everyday if it weren't for Zach. We trained; we liked training, but we didn't want to actually go to the Hunger Games. Each year, we told our parents that we were waiting for when the time was right, when we were the strongest.

"So when the Capitol told us that they were starting the Inter-districts Benefits Program, it seemed too good to be true. At first I was skeptic, but I rationalized it that the Capitol was finally trying a peaceful method to calm the Districts down after the last Hunger Games. We finally had another option rather than participate in their death match. We rushed to take the test after actually studying for once. And everything seemed so ideal. Because it was just based on intelligence and not gender, we could have two males "win" from our District.

"You can probably guess that how we felt finding out that this was just another trick by them, that we fell for their lie. And now, I'm a day away from fighting for my life. I know that maybe I'm not actually all that different from the other Careers or the other tributes, and maybe not even better, but I have to try. After all the work I've put into my life, I can't not try. I have to try my hardest to win this thing; I just have to."

I let out a sigh, both to signal that I was done and, strangely, I felt a little relieved as well, as if something had left my shoulders.

"I'm sorry that the Capitol ripped your family apart. I'm sorry that you've had to listen to every Capitol twat and every idiot tribute. I'm also sorry that you've had to stay silent for so long, I can't image what that's been like."

It got a little bit better.

Taking my gaze from the pad, I looked into her bright blue eyes.

You gave me a voice, even if it's just in writing. Thanks for that. She smiled at me, causing me to smile back. I guess I was wrong. Maybe, you are different.

"Thanks. I'm glad I'm better than hundreds of crazed murderers."

Surprising once again, she let out a small giggle. You're actually pretty funny, you know that? I'll be rooting for you in there. I try to sneak a peek at the television every day, and I'll do whatever I can for you out here.

With a little more hesitation, she turned around notebook.

I'll do it.

"Do what?"

I'll do what you asked me to, about that Aaron kid. I still don't think it's right, but I wanna see you get out of there alive, promise?

I nodded.

After writing one last note, she gave me back the pad and pen. Waving goodbye, she left.

Good. Maybe later, we can talk some more. I feel like I have so much to say to make up for seven years of silence. Goodnight and good luck. By the way Matt, my name's Rose.

-The Next Morning-

Caesar flashed on television screen. "Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that one of our tributes has passed away last night. From District 3, Aaron is no longer with us. I know that many of you are devastated by this. He was, of course, a favorite, highly favored to win after he received a twelve. Now instead of thirty, there will be but twenty-nine in the arena. I know Aaron would have fought valiantly if he had the chance.

"Fear not my friends, for the culprit has been found. A pathetic Avox girl had poisoned this boy's food. From video evidence of her creating a concoction of poisonous chemicals, authorities apprehended her, after which she confessed that she had committed this crime.

"Her family has a history of such despicable acts. At the age of seven, she and her family were trafficking other Avox traitors out of the Capitol, to escape to the wilderness. Though her parents were executed, as they rightfully should have been, the President himself spared the girl. She was only asked to live peacefully, repaying her debt to society.

"This time, however, the same chance was not granted. A few hours ago, the girl was executed by hanging, a manner fit for such a scoundrel. Alone, her memory and her acts will hopefully be forgotten."

-Matt-

"Hey, Matt, are you coming? We have dinner ready!" From across the clearing, Zach waved, beckoning me over to the bonfire beside the Cornucopia

I called back, "Yeah, I'll be there in a sec." One more time, I read the small ripped slip of paper, before placing it back into my breast pocket.

I wanna see you get out of there alive, promise?