I stand in the grassy meadow, bending down on a knee and running my fingers through the tall grass. I must find the perfect flower. I must find the perfect gift for Jasmine.

It can't be too short. It can't be too tall.

It can't be boring. But it can't be too vibrant.

I don't really like a lot of people. Let alone love them. But Jasmine is special.

She's tall and strong for only being 14 like myself. She wears eye-liner all the time. Her smile is beautiful, her laugh is like music to my ears. Jasmine is perfect. The most perfect human being to touch her feet to the ground.

Yes, as much as I hate to admit it, I've gone flying head over heels for Jasmine. But if you were ever in the same room as her, you would go flying, too. I promise.

Anyways, I need the perfect flower. For the first time I step out of my comfort zone. The first time I prove that I'm not quite as square as everyone thinks. And I need it to be perfect.

I kneel in the dewy grass. This moment is so surreal. The only thing that could make it perfect is Jasmine by my side.

Suddenly I hear a squeal. A happy little squeal, from a happy little girl.

Two little girls, in fact.

They skip through the meadow together, giggling and squeaking and squealing away.

The first is a little girl with dirty blonde hair. Dark highlights stick out prominently, especially with her bushy ponytail. Her eyes are a pretty shade of chocolate brown. Her cheeks are rosy pink, her smile is huge as she giggles and skips through the grass. Priscilla Westfall. She's an orphan.

The second is an even tinier girl with dark hair that cascades down to her shoulders, also in a wavy ponytail. Her eyes are a deep maroon, reddish-brown color. Her cheeks are rosy, as well, an even deeper rose-red color. Ashley Duermin. She's an orphan, too.

I'll admit that the two are really cute, especially because Priscilla is only 8 and Ashley is only 7. They run through the meadow and giggle together.

Suddenly, both go silent and I think they look over at me. I stay focused on my flower selection when a tap on my shoulder startles me.

"Ooopsies!" Priscilla says, "Sorry sir!"

"Sowwy," Ashley says with a smile.

"It's fine," I mutter, looking at the flowers.

"What are you looking for, sir? Maybe we can help!"

"Oh… I have to find a flower. I have to find the perfect flower."

"Oooo! We can do that, sir!" Priscilla giggles.

"Call me Brandt."

"We can do tat, Bwant!" Ashley says with a smile. Then both girls run through the meadow together and kneel on the ground, looking at the flowers.

I have to try to smile. Those two are sweet.

I crawl through the grass and see it.

The perfect flower.

The perfect flower for Jasmine. It's almost as pretty as she is. I gently pull it out of the ground just as Ashley and Priscilla prance back. Each of them is holding a bunch of flowers.

"We couldn't decide!" Priscilla squeaks.

"So we pickded all'f 'em!" Ashley says.

I smile at them, "Thank you. But I think I found one."

Both of them look upset. In a moment I can't describe the emotion of, I take a strong-looking daisy from Priscilla's hand. Then I put it in Ashley's ponytail.

After, I do the same for Ashley: taking a really nice tulip from her fingers and putting it in the elastic of Priscilla's ponytail.

I never realized how love can open your eyes.

The two little girls look amazed. "Wow!" Priscilla squeals, "We're like real princesses!"

I have to smile at that. The slightest little smile, sure, but a smile all in the same.

"Wowzers!" Ashley says, eyes bright and smile wide.

"Thank you Brandt!"

"Tank you Bwant!"

I pat Priscilla's head, "Sure."

Suddenly I notice two rowdy boys running towards us, and soon a cat circles around my legs. Ashley and Priscilla squeal happily, running back into the meadow. Soon the two boys slow down.

"Aw, come on Kitty!" Elijah exclaims, almost falling over in an attempt to stop himself before running into me.

"Come on Kitty!" Nate coaxes, "Come on Stel!"

"ESTELLA!?" Elijah yells. The cat slowly approaches the blue-eyed boy and he picks her up.

"Look how incredibly cute!" Elijah beams.

Nate laughs, "You like cats WAY too much, Lij."

Elijah Crowly and Nate McIalwain are both 11. They're your normal pair of rowdy little boys. They almost look related, but it's easy to tell one from the other. Nate has dirty-blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. Elijah has slightly darker brown hair, but his eyes are bigger and bluer than Nate's.

The two have become slightly awkward around me, considering them being so energetic and me being so… Not…

"Hi Brandt," Nate says.

"Hey," Elijah adds quietly.

"Hi you two," I say, probably sounding a little happy.

"What brings you to the Field?" Elijah asks, stroking Estella.

"Looking for, um… A gift. For someone special."

"Paulina?" Nate asks. He means my older sister, of course. She's popular, but cruel.

"No, not Paulina…" I spot Jasmine walking through town and realize that this is my opportunity.

"I'll talk to you two later," I promise, taking off to catch up to Jasmine.

When I see her, I freeze. My whole body goes stiff.

I don't know if I can do this…

She turns around and stops, "Um… Hi?"

I run a hand through my hair nervously. "Oh, um… Hi Jasmine."

"Brand, right?"

"Um, actually, Brand-t…" I correct gently. She shrugs, "Whatever."

"So, um…" I stiffly hold out the perfect flower to her. "I t-think you're a great human being."

She takes the flower from my fingers and there's a long pause. She looks me up and down, and I realize that I should've changed from the muddy jeans I have on.

Finally, she speaks. "Sorry kid, I'm a lesbian."

Then she swivels on her foot and walks away, throwing the perfect flower over her shoulder as she leaves.

PART TEN: Brandt Manson, District 2

I think reflecting on the past is actually a bad thing.

I've never cared to show emotions at all, but just that once I could see a totally new outlook on life.

I was 16 when the rebellion failed and they announced the new event called the Hunger Games. I'll never forget it, because little Elijah Crowly (who was 13 at the time but who I will always see as that little 11 year old boy from the meadow) was chosen to go in (er, um, reaped, sorry….) and my older sister Paulina was chosen to go in with him.

I have to say I was a little relieved that Paulina was reaped. As I said, my sister is popular but doesn't really enjoy the fact that her brother is a "boring little square," to say it without the swear words.

But, when I bode her farewell, the thought never crossed my mind that she might never come back.

Well, she did come back to District 2. As nothing more but a mere corpse, sure, but she still did come home.

Little Elijah died, Platinum Krietzer from District 1 ended up winning.

Nate was torn apart.

Now, let me tell you something else. During the rebellion, the Capitol ransacked District 2 and kidnapped a group of orphans. And I don't know what happened for sure, but what I do know is that Ashley Duermin was the only orphan that didn't come back.

They did some tests on her, completely messing with her mind and brainwashing her. She was put in the First Hunger Games dome (er, um, Arena, sorry.) with the main purpose to mess with the tributes. And Platinum ended up killing her in the final battle. So Priscilla was torn apart.

Maybe I should've been emotional about Paulina's death. But, as I said, I don't get emotional.

To make it worse, that day that I got rejected, I noticed Jasmine making out with another guy behind a building.

So, as opposed to showing emotion, I just build stronger walls with which to contain any sign of emotion. And that's how it is when Platinum comes to District 2 for his Victory Tour. (Did I get that one right? Yes, I think that's right.)

I stand in the town square, a good distance away from my mother and father, a good distance away from Priscilla Westfall and Nate McIalwain.

But when they invite the families of the deceased up to the stage, Nate and his sister join Elijah's sister, nephew, and father up on the stage. Needless to say, the District is all up in arms. And Platinum Krietzer completely chokes.

Nate McIalwain and Priscilla Westfall go into the Second Hunger Games.

And those two are the only two still there to remind me of that day when I felt so incredibly carefree.

The Hunger Games do this thing called the Chariot rides. They dress up the sacrifices and send them down the streets in chariots, obviously. Priscilla, a small twelve-year-old, wears a long roman toga and a flower headdress. Seeing flowers in that little girl's hair is a terrible thing for me. It takes me back to the only part of my life in which I was happy. That hour or so was the happiest I'd ever had, thinking of Jasmine.

And seeing little Priscilla Westfall in flowers once again suddenly makes me realize that everyone in that group could possibly be dead a week from today.

I shut off my TV and walk to the Academy.

14-year-old Nate McIalwain won the Second Hunger Games.

He's the first Victor from District 2.

Fast forward to the Third Hunger Games reaping. Now, I'm 18. Paulina has been dead for two years, as has Elijah, as has Ashley. Priscilla's anniversary hasn't arrived yet, and I'm sure I'll be in the Arena when it does.

Sorry, I forgot to mention. I'm volunteering.

Or at least, I intend to. Because I have something to prove to District 2. I am a fighter. And I am a winner. Even if Paulina lost, it doesn't matter. We are two completely different people, me and her.

They choose a girl's name and she walks to the stage when I hear a voice I thought I was done with four years ago.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Everyone thankfully parts ways for her. Tall and built with dark, wavy hair with blonde tips. Fresh eyeliner frames her blue-violet eyes. So it looks like I will get the pleasure of killing Jasmine.

Or she'll get the pleasure of killing me.

The second thought is a hell of a lot scarier than the first.

There's no backing out now. I have to volunteer with her.

Fast forward a little more to the Arena.

It's day 7. The only tributes left are the District 6 male, the District 3 female, the District 1 male Cadillac, Jasmine, and me.

Our alliance of three is built in quick-sand now that Cad's District partner is dead.

I don't trust sleeping. Not with Jasmine around.

And it's a good thing I didn't, because that morning, I hear Cadillac scream. An awful scream, too. My eyes fly open as Jasmine tugs her sword from his chest.

And something tells me that if I don't kill her fast, I'll be next.

"Gonna get a fight out of you, Manson!?" she snarls with a wicked smile, "Bring it!"

This is where everything I've learned in the Academy has to pay off. Everything Nate's been fighting for… It all ends here.

I haven't made a kill yet. This will be my first. I unsheathe the sword from my pocket but don't even have time to blink before she lunges at me.

Lucky for me, a second is all I need to jump out of her way and get myself ready to fight.

Jasmine practically foams at the mouth, holding her sword up and snarling.

"You're dead, Manson!"

I swallow hard, raising my sword as well.

She strikes first and I deflect her. She lunges at me and I hold her back.

I run the sword across her arm and suddenly she swipes hers right across my stomach.

It stings terribly and I wheeze. She definitely threw me off.

"You can't hurt me!" Jasmine says with a cackle, "Manson can't hurt me! He can't do it!"

I glare at her, feeling cold all over. "Yes. He. CAN."

And I attack her. I'll admit that what she said was partially true. But I figure that I'll have trouble hurting anyone.

Cadillac's cannon booms as Jasmine tries to hold me back. I slash at her rapidly and I think that I have it.

I think that maybe I'll win this fight.

But I'm wrong. Because Jasmine takes control of the fight. Because of the loss of blood, I feel weak.

She slashes my legs and I collapse to the ground.

I'm going to lose this battle… I can see it now.

Jasmine stands over me and her smile sends chills up my spine.

"But you regret getting me that stupid-ass flower now, eh Manson!? You nerdy bastard."

I grit my teeth. I was only trying to be proper.

But I'll never do it again. Not only because I'm going to die, but even if I get out alive somehow, I am never going to put my trust in a female ever again. It's not worth it. All females do is break me even more than I am. I don't love. I'm stone-hard, stone-cold, emotionless. Nothing will ever get to me ever again.

Suddenly, Jasmine brings her sword down on me and that thought becomes my last.