District Five's Alexa "Fortune" Langer's POV

What was this? That's what I wondered as the world suddenly went bright, blinding me with light and red blocks in my vision as I continued to scratch my crawling face, or rather, what was under it.

It irritated me, and no matter how much I scratched, the itch didn't do away, if anything, all it did was hurt me, but I couldn't help but scratch. I couldn't stop, and I didn't want to, because not scratching was hell, and annoying. I had to scratch, I just had to.

Everything then started to become clearer and I was able to see again, but the multi-coloured dots and lines continued to dance in front of me, I tried to wave them away from me, but all my hand did was go through them, like they didn't even exist. I hated it.

What the fuck! Get out of my face!

I swung my hand at the lines and dots again, only for them to go through them again, like my hand couldn't even touch them.

I felt anger towards the things in front of me as I felt my teeth clinch together as I felt some rumbling in the back of my throat. Fuck off lines! I thought as I swung a fist at them, nothing connected with my fists. Fuck off dots! I thought as I swung at first at them, my fist didn't hit them, not a single one.

I tried to grab them, but I couldn't get a hold of them as they disappeared as my hand got close to them, or they just simply passed through my hand.

They were mocking me, laughing at me as I made an effort to get rid of them, only for them to disappear when I try to destroy them, then reappearing as I pulled back. The worst thing was that they multiplied each time I blinked.

I tried not to blink, but I couldn't help but blink, causing them to multiply in from of my eyes. Those annoying lines and dots just couldn't go away! They just had to be there, in my face, annoying me!

I then threw another fist at the moving objects, and felt something hard hit my fingers as pain rushed through my hand. I blinked and looked at what had caused me so much pain, it was a wall. A dull, grey wall that was dirty with years of rust and water damage along with the other signs of abandonment.

Stupid wall! Why did you have to be there to hurt me?

Feeling the anger build up inside me, I threw another fist at it, and when my fist and the wall connected, I felt a wave of pain run through my fist.

Stupid mother fucking wall! Why!?

I threw another fist at it, then another, then another, enraged that it had hurt me, and for the simple fact that it was just there.

Move out of my way!

Again and again it hit it, but it didn't move, I did nothing to it while all it caused me was pain, but I didn't care, that wall needed to move out of my way!

Soon, I started to hear wet pops that quickly turned into wet, sickening cracks that sounded painful to even listen to. I started to wonder what the hell was causing that awful noise, and why I started to feel this intense pain.

I felt another itch on my face, and my hand automatically raised up to scratch it. When my hand touched my face, I felt a sharp, painful scrape mixed with warmth that spread with each move I made instead of a smooth and relaxing, yet painful scratch. I wondered what it was, so as hard as it was, I pulled my hand away, and saw a gruesome sight. My fingers were seriously mangled with bones sticking out of my blood covered hand and fingers, skin had broken apart for the bones to stick through, and some of my finger nails had either been broken off or partly buried into my fingers.

I looked at my hand and fingers and how it shouldn't of looked this way at all, and was thinking about how painful it should be, but instead, I felt the overwhelming sensation to do something that didn't involve screaming out in pain. I found this whole thing humorous.

I started to laugh.

I fell to my knees as I looked at my seriously fucked up hand and laughed as though this was the most hysterical thing in the whole god damn world. And for some reason, it was. I looked at my other hand, my right hand, to see that it was in even worse shape then the other. I laughed even harder, this whole situation was just so funny.

Both my hands were broken. I was fucked. Fucked I tell you. Fucked. And I found it hysterical.

Forget drugs, this was a much better sensation. It made me laugh harder then I had ever laughed before, and I didn't seem to care about the outside world! This was perfect! Perfect!

Laugh Alexa! Laugh! Because there's nothing but pain and misery in your life, you might as well laugh with it, because life took away your parents, your ten year old sister, Greta, and caused your older brother, Phelan, to abandon you. It caused you to seek the aid of drugs, making you sink deeper into that hole they call depression, causing you to rely on the narcotic feelings of pleasure, energy, and general not giving a shit attitude that made you feel good. But most of all, you seeked it out to forget your past and pain, and look at you now, you not only have mental pain now, but now you have physical pain as well!

I laughed with my thoughts as I looked at my disfigured fingers with curiosity, not even thinking ahead, before I opened my mouth and placed a finger between my jaws. I then pressed down on one of my fingers, and pressed down on the joint as hard as I could before I heard a squish like sound mixed with a crunch as pure agony raced down my hand as I tasted flesh, bone, and blood.

Tastes like unflavored food with metallic sauce. I was disappointed.

Even your own flesh is worthless, my thoughts told me. They taste of the plainness in your life, you dislike your own flesh just like how the people of District Five hate you.

I laughed as I chewed my own severed limb. I did hate myself, just like how I was hated by just about everyone in District Five. Everyone but my drug dealer, I liked him, but only because he gave me what I needed. It was a win win deal, I gave him money that I got from gambling, and he gave me his products.

He was even kind enough to come say goodbye to me and give me a gold coin and an ace card. Gambling tools, just like my nickname suggested. He knew me so well.

But then I started to feel sad as I remembered my life before all this. My mom and dad were still alive along with my younger sister, by brother, as much of an asshole he was, was still with us as well. I had a couple of friends that weren't the boys that would be outside the district fence, I had a fairly normal life before that fire occurred and killed everyone except me and my brother. It wasn't the best life ever, but I liked it, it was my life, and it could of been a whole lot worse.

But then things did get worse. Everyone started to leave me, and I was left in this world on my own.

I felt myself laughing, but also felt myself crying as well. I missed my old life.

I spat out my finger and began to sob, feeling liquid build up in my eyes.

"What's wrong girl?" I heard a voice ask me as I felt water run down my face. I looked up to face him, but I couldn't see him clearly because of my tears. And those damn dots and lines that refused to go away for some reason. "What happened to your hands?"

What happened to my hands? Why did that sound so funny?

I started to chuckle while cry at his question. What happened to my hands?

"Look at my hands!" I laughed as I held my broken hand high up in the air, showing them off to whoever was in front of me. "Look at my hands! They're broken! They're fucking broken!" I then laughed harder then I thought I could, feeling as if that was the right thing to do, and I wanted to do that anyway. That and cry. "And they are not tasty either!" I laughed some more. "We're all fucked!" I told him as I continued to laugh before I started to sing. "Your fucked, I'm fucked, we're all fucked up the gammmmmmeeeeeesssssss." Followed by even more laughter.

"Your weird." He said simply.

Suddenly, I felt myself stop laughing, started to feel a pain in my chest, and started to full on cry, with the overwhelming emotions inside me.

"I just want to be loved." I suddenly, and unexpectedly told him as I thought of my family and former friends and how much they had meant to me and how I used to have their support behind me. But now, I didn't have anyone's support, nobody but my dealer's.

"I'll make you feel loved." He said to me, dangerously close to me. "I'll make you feel more loved then you've ever felt before."

"What's your name?" I asked the guy in front of me, wondering who it was that was caring so much about me and my state of mind.

"Calamity." He answered, before I felt him gently place his hand on the back of my head. "Do you know what that means?"

I shook my head. I didn't know what that meant, nor had I ever heard the word before until I had been reaped. "I'll tell you what it means." He said before I felt his grip on my hair suddenly tighten before I felt my face slam into something hard. I'm guessing the wall. "It means great and sudden damage. A disaster."

I then heard fabric being torn apart as I continued to be tossed around like a bag of dirt and slammed on the wall and floor repeatedly like I was a ball. I started to feel the cool wind rush over my body as I started to feel more and more lighter and less and less covered. "Do you like disasters girl?" The guy asked. My response was laughter.

"My whole life is a disaster." I told him, not giving a care about what was happening to me.

I was hurting all over, but why did I find this whole thing funny?

District Two's Victory Valentine's POV

Killing Dylan was the biggest rush of joy that I had experienced since my twelve birthday. The party didn't contain any kind of killing, or adrenaline pumping activities like mock gladiator fights or free running across the empty stone quarry or anything like that. But what it did contain was that everyone was together for that occasion, even my father was there with us, and he hardly gets to spend free time with us since being the head peacekeeper of District Two is a big job. That day though, he stopped handling his duties of peacekeeping to spend some time with us, and I really couldn't of been happier.

The party wasn't anything really spectacular by itself, just me, my family, my friends, and a few of Vlad's friends. Though they wanted to be with my brother, some of their younger siblings wanted to tag along to be around me.

We had fun, played some games, had some laughs, all the things that kids normally do, except that I got to shoot of dad's gun a little bit. Officially, he wasn't allowed to let me do that, but he said that if anyone asked, he was checking it for defects.

Then the presents came, and while I got the normal sparing armor and mock weapons that most kids got on their birthdays, I did get a few interesting gifts from my friends, and some of the kids that were in my class, some of which made them go red faced, followed by my dad dramatically make ready his gun. I didn't know what that action meant back then, but I did now, and I giggled at how protective my dad was.

After everyone left, except for my two best friends, Alexis and Cree, dad came over and told Vlad and I to hold out our hands. We did. We didn't know what to expect, but then he placed two rectangular, chained, pieces of metal with engravings in them. I recognized them right away, dad always wore his.

Both Vlad and I gasped as we saw them, they were dog tags, something that only peacekeepers normally get when they pass the peacekeeper training course, something that you could only do if you were nineteen or older, no exceptions, not even victors could become peacekeepers unless they were over the age limit.

Vlad and I started to freak out with glee as we held out our tags to each other, telling each other, and out father, how much we loved them.

Our father then explained to us that while they were dog tags, they weren't the ones that real peacekeepers got, just some fakes that he was allowed to make, but even so, we still loved them.

He told us that he wanted to give us something that would remind us of him in his nearly constant absence, that he always loved us and that love doesn't have a limited distance.

In short, it was the best birthday ever, one that I had never forgotten.

The only thing that had ruined the moment was when mom and Aunt Venom had started to fight. It had been another one of mom's jealousy spats at her sister, and from what I heard from them, mom and Aunt Venom were talking about us, about kids, and about victors. About how either Vlad, Valley, or myself, were going to become victors.

Dad had to literally rip them apart when they started fighting because Aunt Venom reminded mom that she had been chosen to volunteer by the academy while she wasn't even their fourth or fifth choice. It was really embarrassing, especially when dad, Vlad, and some of Vlad's friends had to hold back the two combatants before dad literally threw Aunt Venom out of our house.

And because of that stupid jealously, mom had gotten Vlad killed and had nearly gotten Valley to try to volunteer into the games, but not before she got some training from hell. If I hadn't volunteered this year, Valley would have endure mom's wrath for another eight years before she might go into the arena and die, just like Vlad did.

It was up to me to stop this, before it was too late for Valley.

I walked down the corridor leading back to the cornucopia, when the lights came back on unexpectedly.

I quickly shielded my eyes and turned my head away from the sudden flash of lights as multi-coloured dots and lines swirled in front of me. Who the hell had turned on the lights? Did the gamemakers do this? What a stupid question, of course they did, they were in control of everything in the arena.

Except...

Arcane and the Capitol anarchy. Did they know how to control these things? Was there someone else with him? A team of gamemakers that followed him because he was the voice of authority now that old man Blizzard was dead? Or was he just simply bluffing.

I didn't know. And really, I didn't know much about him except that he was a peacekeeper back home and that he was one of the few peacekeepers that only took orders from my dad and the mayor.

But whatever was happening, he would pay, because once I win this game I will tell dad about him and what he did. Arcane will be punished. If he didn't get killed, he'd at least get his tongue cut out for what he did to us. To me.

He was a full supporter of the Capitol, even more supportive then most of District Two. We supported the Capitol, but secretly, we hated them, because we were still under their control and there were people that didn't like the fact that we had to fight for them, but we still supported them, because our lives would be a lot worse if we didn't.

We were a powerful district with the strongest careers and the peacekeepers that patrolled and kept order in Panem, but we still couldn't fight the Capitol, not unless we wanted to become a ruined district like District Thirteen, or be beaten down into a loser district like District Twelve.

So we served, we served the Capitol like dogs to their masters. Disgusting, but understandable.

As my vision began to clear, I saw that, with the regular lights back on, I was able to see more then ten times better then I could with those red emergency lights. I was able to see farther down the corridors and see everything in front of me without those dark spots that were in between the red light's path.

Everything was so clear now, it was perfect.

I continued to walk forward, taking in everything that I saw with the light bathing down in the arena, and saw that everything was in way worse condition that I thought it was in. With the weak red lights lit, all I could see was rust, water stains, blood, dust, and dirt. I could see the same things, but now I saw just how bad things were. This arena looked like it was ancient and had been abandoned for over several generations.

I shook my head. It was stupid to get distracted by what this arena looked like, it offered little to me in terms of destroying the other tributes. The arena looked old, so what, the gamemakers wanted it to look that way. The rust, the water stains, the dirt, the dust, the blood stains, all were placed there by the gamemakers because that was how they wanted the arena.

The writing in blood? That was placed there by the gamemakers as well to mind fuck with weaker minded tributes. They wouldn't work on me though, I knew their tricks. I wasn't going to let anything get the better of me.

I continued to walk until I reached the place I wanted to be, the cornucopia.

There I saw what I expected to see, Tanner and Adrian along with Jen, who could be either dead or alive at this point after Dylan sliced open her throat.

There was a red cloth wrapped around her neck, but I doubt that would actually help her, she'd still bleed to death, it was just a matter of time before death dragged the little career away from this world. If she wasn't dead already.

Ahead of them was the golden horn that looked even more ruined then it did when the emergency lights were casting it's light above. Now I could fully see the rust consuming the horn, the peeling strips of paint, and the blood stains on it.

Around the time weathered cornucopia, I saw the blood stains of the past victims as well as their bodies, or what was left of them.

I smiled at myself and remembered how I had gotten rid of some of the weak competition. Trim was stupid and gullible and just wanted everyone to like him, we used that to trick him into believing that we were his allies. Of the bloodbath tributes, he was the biggest threat, and he went out with the biggest bang thanks to my boot. And the land mines. Thanks Capitol.

The next one I killed was Jamie, someone who couldn't fight back even when his life depended on it. I chased after him, whipped him in the back, and chopped his head in half, and all he tried to do was run away. Pathetic.

Then there was Malik, who was so consumed with anger that he wanted destroy everything in his path, only for me to destroy him instead.

All my victims, even the careers I was with, could be destroyed so easily it was almost laughable. Jeremiah, Dylan, and now Jen, they were all dead and I didn't even need to put in much effort. If things continued at this rate, Caia and Kendrick would end up killing each other while Selene would be killed by some non-career tribute.

Everyone else, including Tanner and Adrian, would eventually either die by someone else's hand, each other's hand, or my hand. Everyone would die except for me, and I'd be able to go back home and save Valley from mom and have dad punish Arcane in the most horrific fashion.

It brought a smile to my face.

I walked past Tanner and Adrian, watching me as I walked passed them on my way to the assortment of backpacks and weapons that lay scattered around the horn.

I could tell that they didn't suspect me like Dylan did, but I could see that there was something that they didn't want me to know about. But I didn't care, they could do whatever they wanted without me knowing, they can't stop me no matter what they do.

If they try to kill me, I'll kill them. If they try to sneak up on me, I'll kill them. If Jen some how survived and they all try to take me down, I'll kill them. Jen was over confident in her abilities, Tanner was a retard, and Adrian would be dead before he even knew it.

Of pure fighting ability, Jen out ranked them all, but Adrian was the biggest threat since he was neither cocky or stupid. If they attacked, he'd be the second one to die, right after Jen. Tanner I would save for last since he'd be the easiest to deal with.

Walking past them, I showed them my smile. Adrian gave a small smile back while Tanner just nodded. They still trusted me, they still thought we were on the same team, only made easier because Dylan had attacked me for no reason, or so they thought.

All of this made me feel like a puppet master. They were my puppets, and I was pulling their strings, making me move how they wanted, but not only that, I was controlling their minds as well. It made me confident that I was going to come out of this arena alive.

I turned my head to look at the backpacks and various weapons that had been hiding from me due to the dim lights that had been casted in this room. Now that I could see properly, I could see if there had been any good weapons that had escaped my sights.

I opened the first backpack I came across and was glad that I came back for these supplies and that the regular lights were on, the items I found inside would do some serious killing if I used it against another tribute.

I looked back to Tanner, Adrian, and Jen, and saw the two boys whispering among each other.

What they were talking about behind my back was of no concern, and leaving them alive was only going to serve me better. They might find other tributes, other tributes might find them, and someone might die, leaving less work for me. They weren't going to die, not yet anyway. Unless they foolishly wanted to attack me, but that wouldn't be a problem either, a minor change of plans, nothing much.

Smiling to myself and how things were going my way, I continued to look through the backpacks, taking anything that would benefit me and my plan.

District Eight's Vida Rosalyn Harkle's POV

Fighting.

If there was one thing that I knew about fighting it was to never give up, to never give in, because once you give in to your opponent, they see you as a weakling and will continue to pick on you despite your efforts on avoiding such a confrontation.

That's why I fight back so often, so that people will leave me alone rather then continue to torment me just like they did with Breanne.

For some reason, Breanne either couldn't, or wouldn't, stand up for herself, so the kids at school bullied her because it made them feel powerful, it made them feel better about themselves. If I wasn't with my friend when that happened, she'd get beaten up.

I didn't like that they beat her up to get back at me, I didn't like that they thought they were safe because Breanne wouldn't tell me, or her parents, or anyone about the attack, or who did it. She mostly claimed that it was an accident, a stupid accident that was mostly tripping and falling face first into a large industrial sewing machine or some bullshit like that. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why that girl didn't want anyone to know, or why she wouldn't just stand up for herself or something like that, it would of saved her a lot of hurt.

She may not want to talk about it, but after a few punches and kicks, some other kids were willing to tell me what they saw or heard. I'd go around the school or district, find sources, before finding the people reasonable for hurting my friend, before beating them up.

If I won, I told them that if they ever hurt Breanne again, I'd do worse then beat them up. If I lost, well, let's just say a second round came up, because giving up wasn't an option. Give up, and you'd be digging your own grave.

People hated me, but they also feared me, which was better then them seeing me as an easy victim to punch out every day. I just wished that Breanne would of stood up for herself instead of taking the abuse. She deserved better then that, I knew she deserved better then that.

And I deserved better then this. I didn't need to have some bitch spray me with acid that makes my skin melt any more then the kids that deserved to be melted during the reapings.

That bitch will not get away with attacking me and taking away my backpack!

I felt the rush of pain in my body, literally. I had pain on my face, on my arms and legs, especially my legs, and inside my lower body. Everything just hurt so much, and I knew that it was that District Five girl's fault entirely, though why I was feeling pain inside my vagina was beyond me.

I tossed that thought away as it didn't really matter at the moment, I had to find her, that was all that mattered at the right now, but all I saw was darkness, and I knew for a fact that my eyes were open. What had happened? Did I suddenly go blind because of the spray that had hit my face? Now that I think about it, that might be the case, though I hoped that it was because the lights had suddenly ran out of power and faded away. I didn't like the idea of being blind.

I reached up with my hands and touched my face, to feel a soft, cloth like substance on my face. I felt relief as I felt it touch my hands, it meant that I might not be blind.

What it was didn't matter, all that mattered right now was that it might be blinding me, and I needed my sight if I was ever going to find that girl that had attacked me.

I grabbed the soft cloth before I pulled it away from my face. I didn't succeed in ripping it all off, but I managed to tear some of it away from my face, allowing me to see again, as well as feel a painful sensation on my face as fire ripped across my face.

I felt intense relief as I found that I was, indeed, not blind, but my face hurt so much that I almost felt like covering it and holding it with my hands and just wait the pain out.

But I didn't, because as soon as I ripped the cloth like mask off my face, I saw exactly what I was looking for, the bitch that had attacked me. She was right in front of me, laying on the floor while hugging her legs while her knees were up to her chest.

I felt happy that I had found her, and extremely angry at what she had done to me, spraying my body with acid in a can wasn't cool. I was going to make her pay!

I jumped up, only to find out that I couldn't, before I crashed onto the hard, red hot floor that made my body burn ten times more then it already did. My legs especially felt like they had been smashed repeatedly by a heavy weight.

I could feel myself scream out in as much pain as my body felt.

I was confused and kind of shocked, why were all these parts of my body in so much pain?

I tried to stand up, but I couldn't. In fact, I couldn't even move them, and that made me realize that my legs were broken. That fucking bitch not only melted my skin, but she had broken my fucking legs!

That only made me angrier at her.

I crawled towards her, using my arms to reel myself closer to her.

Getting closer and closer, I could see that she was in really bad pain, I must of gotten her good when I was swinging blindly after my face got hit with acid and my face got covered with cloth. I felt proud of myself that I had gotten her, even though I had been blinded.

I got closer and closer to her until I was within grabbing distance.

She thought she could get away with hurting me? She thought wrong. I was going to show her why it was a bad idea to mess with me.

"Hey you fucking bitch!" I shouted at her before I started to swing at her face.

Taken completely by surprise, the District Five girl was completely helpless against my barrage of attacks as they devastated her beyond anything that she might of thought of.

She raised her arms in defense, screaming out in fright as I slammed my fists at her defensive limbs. I laughed at her for being so weak now that I had landed a hit on her and she didn't have her precious spray can with her. She was a common bully, she was only strong with support and against someone that couldn't, or wouldn't, fight back. But now she was up against me on less then even grounds, because even though I was injured and she had destroyed my legs, I was still defeating her while I she could do was hide behind her arms.

She was pathetic.

I continued to pound her arms with my fists until she couldn't even hold them up anymore due to how much pain I had given her, and once she dropped her arms, she was completely variable.

She dropped her defense, only for me to start attacking her face.

My fingers couldn't stay in a fist because they hurt so much, but that only seemed to damage her even worse then getting beaten by my fists, because I was now clawing at her face. My fingers and nails were scrapping against her face with deadly effectiveness.

Small cuts appeared at first, not much larger then the average cut on a finger. "Think you're tough now! Think your fucking tough now!"

But then it started to get worse and worse, bigger and bigger, until I could see pieces of facial flesh and blood start to fly in every direction each time I clawed at her. I felt satisfaction with every strip of skin that I pulled off her face. "Die! Die! Die! DIE!" I shouted at her every time my fingers made contact with her face.

I soon started to lose strength, and the speed that I had decreased as I started to get slower and slower, weaker and weaker. My body now felt even worse then it felt before, the fire inside me grew hotter, my face hurt more, my finger nails were on fire, and my entire body felt like utter shit. I was running out of adrenaline, to my mild annoyance and disappointment.

I stopped clawing at my victim to catch my breath, I was exhausted and my body hurt, a lot.

I had been in a lot of fights, but I had never been this tired after an adrenaline rush. Probably because nobody had been trying to kill me before. It was a life or death situation, if I didn't kill her, she'd kill me first with her can of spray. It was the way things needed to be.

After recovering for several seconds, I looked up to see my victim, and saw a shocking, and horrific realization. I felt my breath leave my body as my chest tightened as the joy of a victory left me as I looked at the girl in front of me.

Her entire outer face had been entirely stripped of coloured flesh, replaced with thick, pulsing, crimson blood covering most of her inner pink flesh before they ran down the side and back of her head, into her hair, and down her neck towards her chest. Her left eye had been clawed away, leaving a gaping hole of blood where it used to be. Her nose was nowhere in sight, replaced with a well of overflowing red water pouring down her exposed inner skin. And I swore I saw bits of skill as she gave no facial expression due to it being impossible. Even her lips and cheeks were gone, exposing every singe one of her teeth to me in a nightmarish smile. And scars, everywhere there were big, bloody scars running everywhere on her face.

And most horrifying of all? She had dirty blond hair that was now covered with blood and flesh, not dark brown.

I horrifically realized that this was the wrong girl, and felt a flood of sudden and confused emotions hit me hard.

I wanted to look away, but for some reason, I couldn't. I couldn't tare my gaze away from a girl that wasn't supposed to be my victim, a girl that might not of even attacked me, a girl that I had torn the facial skin off of.

I felt my eyes tear up as I continued to look at her unrecognizable face with only her blond hair and right, dark right eye left on her. I felt my stomach churned as her eye looked at me with fear, confusion and hurt. My chest tightened as I felt a torrent of sadness and sickness rush over me as I looked at the naked girl that had pieces of bone sticking out of her knees.

I felt and tasted something acidic and sour tasting as I watched thick yellow bile with bits of orange and white blow out of my mouth and fall onto her fleshed out face, making her scream out in more pain then I ever heard anyone produce. And I couldn't blame her, I couldn't think of anything more painful then this.

I felt myself start to wail as I thought of what I was going to have to do to her to end her suffering. "I-I-I-MM-m-m-m-m! S-s-s-s-o-o! S-s-s-s-or-or-ee-ee-ee!" I howled as tears filled by eyes as I crawled forwards until I could reach the back of her head and pull her close. I wasn't gentle with her, I pulled her in quickly so that she could leave this world all the more quicker.

I pulled her into a hug, burying her head into my chest before I leaned down, opened my mouth, and bit her in the side of the neck. She cried out in pain, but it was muffled against my chest. I then started to grind my teeth into her neck, the vibration of her screams were felt in my chest as the taste of warm, metallic blood filled my mouth.

When my jaws connected, I pulled my head back with all my might, pulling the flesh from her neck away from her before I felt the warm, sticky blood start to spray onto my face.

I heard her yell in a loud, high pitched scream that was painful to even listen to. I turned my head away as best as I could before spitting out her warm and wet chewy flesh before I heard her start to gurgle, like she was drowning. I knew then that she was drowning in her own blood.

I couldn't stand it. I wanted her to be gone and done. I didn't want to hear her suffering anymore. It made me feel sick to my core because of her wails of pain and the fact that I was reasonable for it.

Please, I thought. Please die soon.

I waited, and waited, and waited for her to die, but she didn't seem to want to die, her body wouldn't allow her to die for some reason. Her blood continued to spray the side of my head, she continued to chock on her own blood, and I could feel the life draining out of her at the slow, painful pace that it was. And though I couldn't see clearly through my burning tears, nor was I facing her anymore, I could see it in my mind, and it only made it worse as I visualized her blood spraying out of the side of her neck, her face torn to shreds before it was puked on.

I just wanted her to die.

After what seemed like forever, her gurgling did stop, the blood spraying for her neck weakened. And soon, I heard nothing except my quiet sobs. I was relived, but saddened at the same time.

I dared another look at my victim, and when I saw just how much skin had been stripped from her face and how much of her body was covered in red, I remembered the reapings.

When the peacekeepers killed those kids, including my one and only friend, I realized just how cruel and heartless the Capitol really was. How much they didn't care about us.

I accepted the games, because the games being in my life was the same as living in District Eight, it was the way things were and nothing I could do would change that, no matter.

Now looking at this girl, I saw just how close to the Capitol I really was. I was just like them, and I felt horrible for that.

I hated them, and I hated myself, and I almost never hated myself.

I vomited again, right on the girl's bare chest.

I hated this. I hated the fucking Capitol, this fucking game, but most of all, my mother fucking self.

With all those realizations coming forward and hitting me harder then any fist, foot, or spray I had ever felt, I cried harder and louder then I ever did in my entire life.

A/N: Wern... You were too good for this world anyway. I just wish you got some more spot light and development, but, what can I do? Things are already set in motion. I really liked you.

Anywho, that's that chapter.

Oh, yes, umm... Kids, drugs are bad, don't take them unless you want to end up like Alexa or Perla.

Oh yes, another thing, am I repeating things too much?