"District 11, Jean! Please come!" The announcer boomed. I glanced at Aranda and Miley, and received thumbs up. I proceeded on and entered the room. The first thing I noticed was colors splattered all over the room, dirt and all type of herbs on the floor, knives stuck to the walls, and a lot of logs being split. Apparently, this year's theme is strength.

I sighed, I didn't know what I was going to do! I don't have the strength of Miley, or the strategy planning of Arada! It's not like I could woo them over by running like a rabbit either. Plus, they're not even paying attention! They seem bored from watching the same thing over and over by everybody else. I thought for a moment, should I get the lowest score and be the weak people? I surely can't be strong.

Then a thought came to me, I am those determination people. I grinned, and called out to them, "HEY!" None of them payed attention. Again, I yelled, "HEY YOU! YEAH YOU! W-wait. Not you, sorry servant." The servant walked out of the room, and I felt like blushing, but my boldness got ahead of me.

"I am Jean, from District 11. Throw anything at me. Plates, food, knives!" At first, I thought they were going to ignore me, but then they came so fast that I barely had time to think. I did back flips and cart wheels as I remembered Jeffrey would be happy and entertained. Once I got to the wall, I plucked the knives stuck there and began throwing it at the objects they were throwing at me.

Once I had one left, I threw it at a donut and saw it soar into the middle. A guy yelled stop, and deflected the knife coming to him with a plate. I nimbly said, "This is Jean from District 11," and once I was near the door, I added, "May the odds be with you," for a good measure. I left the room blushing.

I clucked my tongue as I heard my name being called out. "District 11, Arada! Please come!" I had no idea on what I was going to do. Once I closed the door behind me, I causually strolled over to the tridents, a weapon I was familiar with. I shot it straight into the red circle in the center. I congratulated myself, but I was suddenly aware of the zero I was getting.

"Ahem," I said, trying to get the Gamemakers' attention. "Uh, I'm from District 11. Arada." Only one person looked at me. Just one. "Excuse me!" I said in a louder voice, "I am Arada from District 11!" Because now nobody was paying any attention to me, I furiously seized a ten-pound weight and threw it, making a dummy fall over with a deep dent in the forehead. That satisfyingly made a nice racket. Now about three quarters of those despicable people were engrossed in what I was going to do next.

First, I repeated my identification. A few of them gave me a look that meant Go on already. I grabbed a huge spear and began to run from one end of the room. About halfway through, I let go of the spear and it stabbed a cart of paints. The cart knocked down, spilling its liquid everywhere.

Some Gamemakers clucked their tongue, clearly unimpressed, while others were fascinated that a single spear could push over full buckets. I decided to throw short knives next, which wasn't something I was great in but fairly okay.

I grabbed a handful of knives and began throwing them tens of yards away from my targets. I got faster and faster and made more and more bulls-eyes by the second. In the final five seconds of this episode, I didn't miss a single one.

I got a loud applause for that.

At last, after throwing more tridents around and eating all sorts of wild plants without dying, I left the room two minutes early without any sort of dismiss. "See ya!" I shouted rudely behind me as I slammed the door shut.

"District 11, Miley. Please come!"

I muttered, "Here we go." Once the door closed, I mumbled, "Miley. District 11."

The guy cupped his ears, "What?" He practically yelled.

"Miley! From District 11!" I said in a louder voice. Again, he cupped his ears. "I said Miley, for pete's sake! And I'm from District 11!"

The guy's face turned red with embarrassment and let me continue on. I selected two packs of flour and threw them 12 feet across the room.

The guy scoffed, "The Careers did much better than that!"

My face darkened, and I chose a bow next. I quickly shot an arrow just above his head, and it took his wig away. I shot two more arrows and it pinned his sleeves into the wall. I was about to shoot one more, but my anger would overtake me and hit a vulnerable spot. Instead I shot two dummies in the heart and paused, letting the Gamemakers know that is what's going to happen to the tributes. Or them, it doesn't matter.

Now that I had their attention, I glared at the guy and left the room. Maybe that wasn't very wise.