Chapter 2

Golden Youth

Agatha Lloyd, District 1. Victor of the 56th Hunger Games.

Right now I have the worst headache ever, so not cool. Partying the day before the reapings is always a bad idea, but it seems to be the only way to release the anxiety and stress it brings. It's either this or morphling. Two more kids to go to the Games… Academy volunteers of course. I already know who those two idiots are. And they deserve to be called that way if they believe that participating in this madness will bring anything positive. They should be doing the same as the non-career districts, fearing getting reaped, not even thinking about something as silly as volunteering. I smile sadly… I was an idiot too.

I can't stand up without having the walls, the floor and the rest of the world spinning around. So, I just lay down there on my fancy bed, hugging my feather pillow. I start remembering my days at the academy, kicking around dummies and people, throwing knives, and picking a fight whenever I could. I remember my happiness when I scored first on the Try Outs, at the age of fifteen, meaning that I won over the older kids and that it will be my turn to volunteer in that year's Hunger Games. The 56th Hunger Games… What a trap. I look towards the white ceiling, I hate reminding that I deserve my current condition, since I chose it. I was young and naive. Well, I'm still young, but all the innocence that could have been in me, left as soon as the countdown reached one and the Games began.

We are forced to see the Games every year, though most of the people don't see it as an order, but as entertainment. At least, I did. I don't know why, after seeing what happens in there, we are tempted to participate. Well, I do know. Fame, glory, pride… The reasons are simple, when we do not see the consequences. The remorse of killing others, knowing that you ruined their lives, that their family and friends are sitting in front of the television witnessing as their loved ones get their throats ripped, or their heads cut off. I don't know what it feels to be on the other side of the television, where the loss is fell. I haven't lose any loved one to the Games, but the children that come every year with me, with their hopes up, thinking that winning will change their world, that they'll be rich once they are back, that their parents will be proud, that their sweethearts will be thrilled to have them in their arms once more… Give me an idea, even if it's just a vague one of how does it feel.

I manage to get into a position in which I'm sitting on my bed, everything around me is moving. I close my eyes, it doesnt really help. A thought flashes through my mind. The begging expression on his eyes, blood spilling out of his mouth and his last breath. His blood in my hands, the knife being hold tightly. The weight of my first kill sinking within me. Damian Holstein, fourteen years old from District 10. His mother committed suicide a year later, and his little brother got sent to an orphanage, or the streets. I throw myself back, as I cover my head with a pillow. I scream as hard as I can. I deserve this, it's only fair for being such an idiot.

Mason Linney, District 2. Victor of the 60th Hunger Games.

"What happens is that you don't have what it takes!", I snap back at him, while I stand up. My brother stands up a few seconds later with difficulty, his fists clenched down his sides. His eye is swollen, his nose broken and a trail of blood is coming down a cut in his forehead. I smirk. He's such an idiot for believing he ever had a chance. He gives me that angry look we both inherited from our mother. His brown eyes staring at me.

"I still have next year, Mason!" he says and walks away, stepping hard on the floor.

"I still have next year", I mock what he just said. He's useless. A seventeen years old useless brother, a complete disgrace. Father won the Games when he was seventeen, and so did I. And, this piece of garbage gets to ruin the tradition. He didn't even have the guts to come and tell me in the face that he came second in the Try Outs, that he wasn't the one who will volunteer. I beat him up out of anger. He shouldn't have come back here, he should go kill himself instead. I would do it myself if mother didn't came to his aid. A coward, a weakling is what he is. I spit, it disgusts me to share the same blood with him.

I walk over towards the bathroom, and clean Oliver's blood out of my hands. The reapings are in a couple of hours. The volunteers seem fit enough, we have this year's victory secured. I went to the Academy earlier, where they announced who will get to volunteer in this year's Games. I kept a calmed demeanor when I found out that Oliver wasn't the one, I stored all my rage and released it as soon as I saw him. Either way, I had seen the guy that is volunteering practicing before and he has what it takes, not like that bastard. It's a good thing though, my brother wouldn't have lasted, and I need my tributes to crush the tributes from One and Four, the others are mere jokes.

I smile. Remembering how I completely crushed Alex and Agatha's tributes, and how Carter and Marina's lost to the couple of District 11, which I later killed myself. The power I felt as they begged for mercy, how easy it was to clear the world from their existence, and how with just a swing of my sword their heads will roll. Damn I wish I could go back to the Arena and relive every glorious moment of the 60th Hunger Games.

Carter Reef, District 4. Victor of the 58th Hunger Games.

"Carter!", I hear before I dive into the sea, and when I come out Marina is looking at me from the pier. She's wearing a short white dress, her wavy blonde hair flowing with the breeze.

"Carter, the reapings are today, did you know that?", she says. I nod, making my way back to the pier. I wish I could stay in longer, the sea just seems to calm me down, to wash it all away. I pull myself out and grab the towel she has in her hand.

"Of course I do, is not such an easy thing to forget. Is it?", I say. She looks sad, her sea blue eyes look tired. She probably didn't sleep much, she probably had nightmares. I put my arm around her shoulder once I finish drying myself, and motion her to walk towards the town. I've been very protective of her ever since my brother died. She's like the youngest sister I never had. Even when everybody thinks we are going out, it's not like that at all. Marina was Nathan's life, and he was hers. I respect that. I might be a lot of things, a career, a murderer, a jerk, but I do follow the unwritten brother's code. It's funny how thinking about all this makes me almost forget about the reapings. Almost.

It's going to be like every year, like it was when I got into the Games. The Academy does the Try Outs, the first one of each sex gets allowed to volunteer. I know the procedure all too well, I like knowing who is going to go on behalf of my district, who's life will I be responsible for. I don't like responsibilities, though I hate to admit so. I like doing things on my own pace, when I want and if I want. Being carefree and laid back is my way of being, and the Games messed that up for me. But, I don't regret volunteering. It was a rough time for my family, so if volunteering meant I could bring more than a fish to the table, and that the house wouldn't get flooded every time there was rain, it was worth it. I came home a victor, I carry the weight of those whose life I took, but seeing the happiness on the faces of my mom and dad, makes it worth it. I know it's not fair, that the others didn't have the fault of my situation, that being happy at their expense isn't good, but that's how this world works, like it or not.

A/N: This is kind of an extra chapter, a filler. I need more tributes in order to start with the reapings!

UPDATE: The mentors of this year are in the blog, as well as some of the tribute's identification cards!