"Read between the lines

What's f***ed up and everything's alright

Check my vital signs

To know I'm still alive and I walk alone."

- Billie-Joe Armstrong, 2004.


The 6th Annual Hunger Games

Topaz McArthur (18), District 1 Female

Green Day - Boulevard of Broken Dreams (2004)


I crouch in the branches of the tree long after the Careers have gone. It's odd, calling the trained tributes from Districts 2 and 4 Careers, but the nickname seems to have spawned in the Games. I think the victor two years ago, Jon Kerry of District 10, coined the phrase, saying that victorious tributes had been promised a successful career as a result of their success in the arena. Certainly many of the Career tributes only volunteered for the glory. After Kerry survived the arena, his tributes heard the nickname, and now everyone knows the allied tributes as the Careers. It's odd how names can stick so easily.

Whatever you want to call them, though, they're very lethal. I'm lucky I wasn't spotted, hiding high in the branches of an oak tree, in a thickly-wooded arena. Not very original from the Gamemakers after last year, but as a tribute, I don't care. It means I know what to expect.

Of course, as long as the inferno muttations of the last Games don't return, I don't really care what they do to me. There will be some sort of trap, but for now, I should be safe. There are too many tributes left for there to be no action, so the Capitol audience won't be getting bored any time soon.

After three days in the arena, eleven tributes have been killed. The woods make everyone harder to find. I can't imagine myself getting out of here at any time soon. If I'm honest, I can't imagine getting out of here at all. Not because I've given up, not by a long way. But because time seems to have slowed down since I arrived in the arena. Even evading the Careers by taking to the trees felt like days ago, although in reality only two or three hours have passed.

My previous life feels like aeons ago. My hand goes to my chest, my fingers running over the small silver cross that hangs on a thin chain around my neck. My younger sister gave it to me after the reaping. A final token from her to take with me until death; a final reminder of home to help me through the chaos.

But home feels so long ago. And the arena is all that matters now. The sun is starting to set, and I'm away from my base.

I was foraging for food when I stumbled across the Careers, armed with only my dagger and a pouch for berries and other food. When I sighted the Careers about two hundred yards away in the distance, my first thought was to climb to avoid being spotted. I had enough berries to survive a day in the tree, if I would ever need to. Considering my physical size, my best opportunity to win these Games will be by outlasting the others. I'm no physical wonder, at just over five and a half feet tall, but I do know a thing or two about surviving on my own. As I said in my interview with Aurelius Newton on the night before the Games, I'm a survivor, not a fighter. That's what my strength is, and in the Hunger Games, you can't afford not to play to your strengths.

Knowing my luck, I wasn't surprised when the Careers stalked past me, barely ten yards from the base of the tree, and none of them thought to look up. Not that I'm complaining.

I spent the next three hours in a tree, not daring to move from the relative safety of its branches. But now I must return to my base; a hollow tree where most of my supplies are stored. This way, if I somehow lose my food pouch, I still have more food that I can return for.

Dropping down from the tree, I begin to slowly walk the well-rehearsed path through this section of the woods to my base. I have grown to know this area; in the last three days, this has been my territory. As twilight falls, I become evermore wary of my surroundings. Oh, how I long for an ally. Nobody has won these Games entirely on their own. But then again, nobody has won the Games under a height of five feet and nine inches. Maybe I can make history by proving that strength isn't everything, and that relying on others isn't crucial for success. But no, I'm a lonely soul, walking through a landscape filled with the shattered hearts and broken dreams of Panem's children.

I've got my dagger out, treading carefully through the woods. I know these paths so well having walked along this stretch at least ten times, that a barely have to look where I'm going. This is my home in the arena, and I alone belong here. Still, I'm constantly on edge, checking for intruders to my small territory.

I'm sure that most tributes will be readying for sleep, and that nobody will be operate at night, but I daren't let my guard down. Even though I'm the only one here.

I'm unsure whether I should move out. Routine isn't getting me anywhere. Just stuck in a trance, where the arena is the only reality. I'm worried that I'll get complacent. Aside from a brief sight of the Careers today, I haven't seen anyone since the cornucopia. I know that in my corner of the arena, I should be fine, but this constant paranoia is really messing with my head.

But as long as I stay alive, it's ok. It's a stupid habit, but I check my pulse every few minutes. Just to know that I'm alright. Seriously, I'm that paranoid.

It's a vicious circle. I feel worried about running into tributes, even though I know that there aren't any nearby, so I get worried that I'm going to become complacent, so I get worried I'll run into a tribute, but I know that there aren't any near, so I get worried that-

What was that?

I turn sharply on my heels to see a black figure stretched on the ground in front of me, and recoil almost instantly. Then I realise that it's just my shadow, elongated by the twilight. I need to pull myself together. I'm even scared of my own shadow now, and whatever I do, that will never leave me. I never knew anyone could be scared of their own shadow; I thought it was just a silly phrase. Maybe it is, but I blame the paranoia. My head is starting to creep me out. I need sleep, and soon.

Otherwise, I might just start turning insane.


The 6th Annual Hunger Games lasted for twelve days, as after the initial bloodshed, the size of the arena made it difficult for tributes to find each other after the first couple of days. Topaz stayed relatively fixed near the arena and ran into several tributes during the first week, until she watched a fight play out between the boy from Districts 7 and 9, stealing the knife of the dead boy from Nine once his killer had moved on. From that, Topaz gained two kills by the time that the field had been cut down to six on the morning of the twelfth day.

At that stage the Careers had split but were all still alive, along with the boy from District 11. In order to draw the surviving tributes back towards Topaz in the centre in the arena by poisoning the water sources near the edge of the arena. Unfortunately, as all the alliances had been broken, every tribute was on their own, and nobody knew that the water was poisonous until they drank it themselves. Because of this, all but one tribute died on that morning, crowning Topaz McArthur the victor of the 6th Annual Hunger Games.


A/N: Please review! Now there are a few chapters, I'm keen to hear what everyone thinks of them. As ever, constructive criticism is welcome :)