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Darya Mercado
District Four Female, 18 Years Old

Seven left.

Caelia. Gage. Me. Liora. Cerise. Ardell. Taima.

Only seven more tributes… Only seven more until I can win. Until I can claim the title as Victor – the title I've been fighting for. It's always been about the title, not the money or fame. Those appeal to me, but it's the fact that I'll make something of myself if I win.

I won't be just Darya. I will be Darya the Victor.

I've always been encouraged to train and to eventually to volunteer. The training was easy, as well as an exciting experience, but that just made me want it more. I saw what I could do in the Training Center, so why not see what I could actually do in the arena?

The mundane life of District Four that was waiting for me never satisfied me. I wanted more than that – I was worth more than that. I had potential. I just had to prove to everyone that I did have potential and that I could hone in on my strength and skill to win the Games.

So, I volunteered.

And that's how I landed right here. That's how I landed right here, without any allies and barely having any resources. I have my spear, I have my backpack, but it's all running out. Food and water is depleting, and my spear… It has traces of blood on it.

Either from Daisy or Ines, I don't know. It could be both.

I still haven't forgotten about them; I just choose to shove it far back in my head. Back into the dark corners of my mind. Do I regret it? No. Should I? I'm sure. But, if I felt any guilt or remorse, that's not what a Victor is like. In Training, they taught me to be stoic and to not let my own fear consume me.

To not let it get in my way.

Besides, I was only doing the respectful thing for Larron. I killed his killer. I tried to save Larron by killing Ines, but it was too late. He was already dead, so it was just a matter of time before I had to take Ines out. She was always a threat; the first indicator was her not joining the Careers.

She had the capability to murder another Career.

I had to get rid of her quickly.

But, what about Daisy? She was so young, so weak. She would have never tried to hurt me, and even if she tried, she wouldn't be able to. She was a different story, though. I had to kill her to get things rolling. She was one of the first deaths in the Games.

I had to do it to prove myself.

She was just another tribute in the bunch. No one expected her to win, so I put her out of her misery of suffering in the Games. It was the right thing to do, morally speaking.

And that concludes all of my kills. Just Daisy and Ines.

I thought about killing Caelia or Liora, though. After Trent killed Darien, and then Caelia killed Trent, I found myself being hypocritical. I killed Ines for killing Larron – an ally – but when Caelia killed Trent, I did nothing. My own District partner.

Was it because I was scared? Because I knew Caelia is strong? That she might have killed me?

I hate to say it, but yes. I was a coward in that moment. I stood there, trying to seem unfazed by it all, but I was trembling. I witnessed two more deaths of my own allies, and that time, did nothing about it.

Does that make me want to get revenge on Caelia? To kill her because of the cruel things she has done?

No. Not yet, anyway. I'll save that for the Finale, if anything.

Then, we have Liora. I never had a problem with her, compared to someone like Caelia. Caelia always hated her for no reason, but me? She was just another person to replace Ines. I think that there's more to her, though. Caelia expected her to die right after the Careers broke up, but her face hasn't popped up in the sky yet.

Would I have killed her, though?

Yes. But, once again, it came down to Caelia. If I fought Liora, Caelia would have jumped in and fought both of us. She's impulsive and rash like that. She could never pass up a fight, especially between two girls that she has never been a big fan of.

I do believe, however, that Liora could handle herself. Could she taken both Caelia and I on? I'm not sure, but one of us? Maybe. I wouldn't mind Liora killing Caelia – it'd be a sight to see.

She could probably do it too.

There's usually more to people than we think.

Just like all of the remaining tributes. I would never thought that someone like Ardell or Taima would make it this far, that they would survive until the Fifth Day. Gage and Cerise seemed stronger than that, so I'm not too surprised by that.

Sometimes, survivors come in different forms. They come with different abilities and skillsets. Not everyone that wins is the strongest or fastest. They don't always have to be the smartest. That's how I see it.

And that's why I'll think I win. That's why I will win. Because I have all of those qualities.

Because I am the best.

Or, I have to at least pretend to be. I have to act like it.

Even though I might not be able to convince myself, I have to at least try to show everyone else.

That I am a Victor in the making.

And that I can do it.

Liora Marcette
District Six Female, 16 Years Old

Don't try to make me like you.

It's these words from my mentor, Lennon. No one has ever said that to me before, and even if they had, not in that way. Not so bluntly… Not so direct. It's those words that I struggled with.

That's what I've been doing my life, isn't it? Trying to make people like me?

Even if they weren't liking the real me – the sincere and genuine me – they were still liking something of my creation. A person I construed myself, an image I conveyed to everyone around. It worked, too. Especially here.

That's how I got into the Careers, after all.

I may have degraded myself and made an enemy or two along the way, but I got into the Careers. That didn't work out so well, clearly. Now, I'm alone, but at least it worked before we broke up. I knew it would work too, but it was after I told Lennon about me joining the Careers that he spoke those words to me.

Why would I not try to make people like?

Why would I want anyone to dislike me? To hate me?

I don't see the purpose to that. I see a purpose in hiding behind a mask, though. Hiding behind a façade; a clueless, flirtatious, and promiscuous girl who only wanted to cling onto some boy. Luckily, I had Trent. He was naïve enough to fall for it. Who's to blame him, though?

I'm good at what I do. Even if it's by being fake.

Fake is the latest trend, anyway. Everyone's getting hooked on it.

It all started back in District Six. I was always the odd one out. The one that people laughed at, the ones everyone turned a cold shoulder to. Well, I was sick of it.

Why wouldn't they accept me? Why was I so different?

It never made sense.

I have the looks. I always did. But, to them, I lacked personality. I lacked character. I was just the shy, awkward, introverted girl no one wanted to be friends with. So, I got fed up with it and began to let go. Trampy was the best word to describe me for most of my teenage years.

I was fine with it, though. I enjoyed it in some messed up way.

I liked the attention. It was always about me… Even if they only wanted me for my body. That never mattered much.

Girls hated me.

Boys loved me. Adored me. Worshipped me, even.

It's something, right? It's better than how I was treated beforehand.

Perhaps, that's maybe why I volunteered. To support this fake personality of mine, to make sure people still believed what I was deceiving them with. It's a stupid decision now, but at the time, it's what I had to. Once my friend was called, I had a flashback to the time I said I would volunteer no matter. That if she were to be reaped, I would be right up there.

I promised to sacrifice myself for her.

It's funny, though. She was only using me for just that. She never liked me – she was always intensely jealous of everything I was and everything she wasn't. She just needed to feel protected, that her life would never be in danger.

I should have never believed that she genuinely liked me. How could I be so stupid? She was the mayor's daughter, the rich girl with the prettier hair than me. With the skinner legs. With the bigger chest. She was everything I wanted to be, but couldn't.

And so, here I am, for her. For Elise.

The idea of her is only making me fight harder, though. Making me want to survive more. Why? Because now, people will see who I really am. I'm a fighter. I'm determined, ardent. I'm not one to give up.

I'm not the stupid girl everyone deemed me to be. I'm not just some whore.

A pretty face doesn't mean a pretty heart.

Maybe in District Six it did, but in the Hunger Games… I can't be like that. After having no more allies, I can't be like that anymore. I have to be independent, to know how to keep myself alive. To keep pushing on.

To fight for the chance to win. To go home.

I don't want to go home for the money or fame. That's a nice perk, but it's more than that. I want to win for myself. I want to win so that I can create a new identity for myself. I'll be known as a Victor. People will try to be my friend now, but I won't let them.

I've spent enough of my life being desperate. Now, it's time to suck that up and learn from my past. That's the girl I used to be, but now? I'm different.

I'm my own masterpiece, after all. I'll edit and revise myself as much as I want. It was always like that with me – that I could do whatever I wanted to with myself. With my personality, with my hair. I changed weekly, always coming up with a new surprise for people. This will be the biggest surprise of them all.

It was always some big spectacle… Some game. Life has always been some game to me, and I've always been good at games.

The Hunger Games is just that, too.

That's all this is – some big game.

And I intend to play it.

Taima Larkin
District Ten Female, 17 Years Old

I want more.

I want to do something else.

I'm too bored for the way things are going. That's all I am lately. Without Zimmer or Garret, I have no one to talk to. No one to throw myself all over, no one to touch me. It's quite lonesome, actually. Maybe that's why I'm itching to find someone. To find someone else to interact with, to flaunt myself some more.

Without Zimmer or Garret, I feel like I'm fading into the background. The people that are watching don't want to see me wandering around the arena alone; they want to see me fighting. I'm sure it was a riot when I killed Zimmer those few days ago. It was definitely a riot for me.

And, now that I think about it, I really don't feel even feel the slightest hint of guilt. He deserved it, so who's really to blame? He got too comfortable with me. He got too comfortable with Garret too, which only bothered me more. He was overly attached with him.

And that's something you don't do here. I tried to tell him that, but he didn't understand. He never even tried to listen to what I had to say. I tried to help him – I really did. But, his time with me ran out and I was sensing that his episodes would only continue.

So, I killed him.

Welcome to the Hunger Games, Zimmer.

The place you shouldn't trust anyone. The place you shouldn't let your guard down. The place you shouldn't be yourself.

It's the place where the strong will win. Where the smart will win. Where the conniving and cunning will win. At least for me I fall within those categories, but for others… They fall short. Like Garret. Like Zimmer.

Like anyone else that has died.

It's sad, but it's inevitable. People are reaped, or volunteer, and then they die. We're all expecting it, so why does it still come as a shock to some people?

I will never forget the look on Zimmer's face the quick millisecond before I was about to kill him. The horror… The shock. That I, Taima, his ally, was about to kill him. He should have seen it coming.

I was always unhinged. He just pushed me over the edge. There's no going back now, though. I've done what I've done. I've watched my own ally die in the Bloodbath and then proceeded to kill my other ally randomly.

I've gone too far, haven't I?

I know that doesn't matter, though. No one cares how crazy you become in the Hunger Games. If it makes for a good show – a good spectacle for the people to watch in the Capitol – then that's all they care about.

I might be fucked up, but at least I'm not ashamed of it. Sure, I betrayed my own ally, and sure, I have the urge to lay my fingers on someone else, but that doesn't define me. I'm still the same pretty girl with the red hair I was in the Capitol.

I'm just the new pretty girl with red hair. The new, improved one.

Flipping my hair and shooting a smile towards the sky, I keep moving, not wanting to let my legs think it's time to rest. I zig-zag through the pieces of stone, trying to find somewhere that's at a high point. I want to see if I can locate anyone. It all looks the same, though. The same gray color.

After walking for a few more minutes, I come to a halt. There are a few large pieces of stone in front of me, going uphill slightly. They block my view of what's behind it, but I'm not afraid. I hope there's someone behind there. As I walk slowly up to the stone, I grip onto smaller pieces to make sure I don't fall back.

And when I peer my head around the rock, I see someone. It's a girl… It's the girl from District Nine.

It's just what I wanted. Someone to talk to. Someone to fight.

Assessing the situation, I see that she has a weapon next to her. She has a backpack too, but that's about it. Something seems off, though. I remember her always being with someone in the Capitol… Her ally, that's it.

Aw.

She's all alone. What happened?

Where did that boy go?

I snicker. Dead, probably. Just like the two of my old allies were.

From what I can tell, she doesn't look too fazed. She's hunched over her backpack, facing a large rock in front of her. It looks like she's about to take a nap or something, but unfortunately, she isn't allowed to anymore. You don't take naps in the Hunger Games.

That gets you killed.

Taking a step forward, I step out from hiding behind the stone, revealing myself. She can't see me, and as I get my knife ready behind my back, I can't help but smirk. This will be fun, I think. Ardell was always one of those girls that piqued my interest.

It's sad I'm going to have to kill her.

I just want to win, that's all. I'll think she'll understand.

After one more step, I decide that this is the best time to introduce myself. To let her know that I am here and ready to fight. Sneaking up on her would be too easy, and I don't want easy. I want fun. I want riveting. I want to fight.

I hope she can fulfill my desires.

"Who do we have here?"

Ardell is startled, jumping up and spinning her head around. She takes a moment to scramble her things together, stand up, and look me up and down. I wave at her, and I don't even get a smile in return.

That's okay.

I don't want her to smile.

I just want her to die.

Ardell Chanson
District Nine Female, 18 Years Old

"Taima."

"Hi, Ardell."

"What are you doing here?" I question, my tone demanding. I don't have any supplies or resources if that's what she wants. I only have myself. What else could she be here for?

"Sorry for the inconvenience," Taima says, the derision lingering in the air. She thinks this is some big joke, doesn't she? "I'm just trying to survive."

"Aren't we all?" I say, watching her attentively, making sure to foresee any action she'll take. I shrug, saying, "It won't work out for all of us, though. Only one, remember?"

"It won't be you," Taima snaps. "I can promise you that."

"And why is that?" I quip, getting rather defensive over this senseless girl. I can only be nice for so long; one thing I learned back in District Nine was to be nice, but only up to a certain point. Then, be mean. Be cruel.

Be heartless.

That's how you'll survive. Taima sees to have that part covered already.

"You don't have what it takes," Taima sneers, giving me a disgusted look. "You seem rattled, though. You look pale. You were so pretty back in the Capitol, too. What happened to you?"

I keep quiet. My lip twitches, and although I'm shuffling to the side now, I fantasize about pouncing on top of her. Just clawing at her face, pulling out her ginger hair. That would shut her up, wouldn't it? Just like it shut up Salya.

"Where's your ally, hm? Oh, wait, I know," she says, only digging her hole deeper. She's trying to play with my mind – I know it. That's how girls like her get what they want. "He was in the sky last night. I always found him cute."

"Riel was my ally. Don't speak about him like that."

"Which is unfortunate. I would have treated him right."

"I saw both of your allies up there too."

"Oh, you mean Zimmer and the other one?" Taima snickers. "I barely remember his name."

Quit dragging it out, Ardell. You know only one of you are going to make it out alive of this.

Taima is standing a few feet away, her ginger hair flowing in the wind. We're in close quarters, so there's nowhere to really run without risking getting an injury or her catching up quickly. I'm stuck here and all of my options end with the same outcome – a fight with Taima.

And if that's what she wants, that's what she'll get.

Taima reveals the long and skinny blade from behind her suit, the tip coated in blood. The sun is setting behind her, reflecting her shadow outwards. She takes a step forward, bringing up the hand equipped with the blade to brush her hair out of the way. A smirk comes across her face and begins to speak through the corner of her mouth.

She props herself up on her heels, and I resist freezing in my spot. I can't back down now – I've done it not once, but twice. I've killed Salya and Dalton. I can kill Taima.

I have it in me.

"Don't take what I'm about to do to you personally."

Taima begins to charge at me, wielding her blade. I can't back up anymore, since I'm being blocked by stone, so just as she's in front of me, I take a step to the side. For a quick second we're parallel, and in an instant, I push her down with all my body weight to the left. Reactively, she springs back up, slicing the blade upwards.

It slices right above my eyebrow, the blood dripping down the side of my face. I press my hand against it, seeing the crimson color stain my skin. Shaking my head, I recoil, preparing to make another attack. Taking my foot, I kick out, making her knees buckle. She falls forward a little, but while her back's facing me, she jumps up and knocks me down.

"Shit," I spit out, gasping for air for the first time. Falling down, I scramble to get back up, trying not to let go of my knife. The glint of metal glides passed my face, only missing my nose by an inch or so.

"I don't like dancing," Taima taunts, her face shooting up to look at me. Her eyes are deranged, her lip twitching again. "Now, stay still."

Taima leaps at me, and before I can move, her blade's coming towards me. I bite down on my tongue as it imbeds itself in my shoulder, the pain erupting instantaneously. I try to scream out, but I muffle my own screams, thrashing out my legs and arms. The knife in my hand drops, and as Taima kicks it to the side, I try to crawl away.

"No…," I whisper, trying to get away from her. "No…"

Taima regains her balance, hovering over me now. Her blade is still in my shoulder, the pain getting worse and worse with every breath I take. I grunt in pain, ceasing moving away from her. I can't do it… It hurts too much. My vision begins to blacken and I can feel myself getting lightheaded.

"Thank you," Taima says, kneeling down in front of me. She puts her face right in front of mine, her eyes sending a chill down my spine. "Was that so hard?"

Taima extends her arm, picking up my knife. She wraps her hand around my mouth, clamping it down as she draws the knife near my throat. I can feel my eyes bulging out of my head as she presses down her hand, not completely seeing where the knife is now.

She's going to kill me.

I have to fight back… I can't die.

I try to squirm out of her grasp, but it's useless. I can't do anything. I can't move. I can't breathe.

"You've killed before, haven't you?" Taima asks, getting distracted with her own thoughts. She shakes her head, presses the cold knife against my throat, and opens her mouth. "Whoever you've killed, I'm impressed. I'll give you that."

I scream into her hand, but she presses down harder, only making everything hurt worse. My whole shoulder down to my hand begins to numb, the pain completely draining.

"I'm still going to kill you."

Kill me. She's going to kill me.

I've always known this is how it would end for me. I could never make it out of here – what was I thinking? I was never cut out for alliances or the Hunger Games. I'm too hypocritical. I'm too ambivalent. I'm too fickle. I'm too self-destructive.

I eventually realized I would end up destroying myself. It was just too late to do anything about it.

How was I supposed to stick up for myself? To love myself? To accept myself?

I still don't know the answers.

I never will.

District Nine, Ardell Chanson – Placed 7th

Author's Note:

And there is Day Five. There are only a few more days left in the Games, with Six tributes left. The numbers are dwindling down, and soon, the Victor will be crowned! Amazing, isn't it? Crazy stuff.

So, I don't have anymore questions. The next chapter will come out in the next few days.

That's all for today, folks.