Prove yourself

I want to breathe, I want to grow

I'd say I want it but I don't know how

I work, I bleed, I beg, I pray

- Radiohead

Tear Nikuya, District 9, 16:

Well, they did always say that being sent to the Capitol was like being a lamb shipped off for slaughter. After a period of pampering and fattening you were disposed of in the abattoir. But underneath the masquerade of chocolates, training and frilly dresses, you kind of forgot that. As all twenty-four of us were herded into the compressed waiting room I suddenly felt like a lamb, looking at all of the other frightened lambs as they tried to control their nerves.

Despite managing to remain strong I suddenly found everything overwhelming. This was it. Soon my self worth would be deemed. And was it enough? I mean, I made a great ally, and she was pretty smart and good with a weapon herself. Together, we both learnt a variety of useful survival skills that could probably help us through the Games. And while Elizabeth began to learn the art of utilising a katana, I had managed to practice with knives. I daren't say it, but I had actually gotten pretty good. But I wasn't a Career... And the Gamemakers would observe me and rank me alongside Careers. Would there be any chance of them being impressed by me?

Maybe...

Or maybe not. The nervousness began to seep into me, and as I began to enact a nervous habit and bite my nails, I noticed Rita's ring on there, glinting in the whiteness of the room. And I knew why I was here. For her. Unlike most people, I had chosen to come here. Me having to face this was better than Rita having to face this... so I had to keep strong for now. For Rita.

If it wasn't obvious, I was a lesbian. I had met Rita and it had changed everything. After a few years of dating I could safely say I loved her. I could happily give my life for her, as shown by me volunteering. We had battled homophobia, our own confused families and finally managed to go through a period of acceptance. And then this happened. Awful was an understatement.

A lilac skinned woman dressed in a white that put the bright room to shame marched in, her heels clicking on the floor. She removed a clipboard and smiled widely. "I'm calling in the tributes for training. This year is ladies first, so Alexandria Tarsus, please proceed!"

A nervous girl with dark hair stood up. As I watched her march out of the room a girl with Indian descent and a kind smile tapped my shoulder. I turned around to face my ally: Elizabeth. I didn't know too much about her. She was smart, she seemed to know a lot about weapons, and she had scientists for parents. So that made her a pretty useful ally. We hadn't talked much, only trained with fierce determination and talked about some of the rude tributes and the personality traits we really hated: hateful people, racists, homophobes, pretentious people, those who were destructively insecure...

"Hey," she smiled. "Are you okay?"

I blinked. After three days of doing nothing but train, it was kind of weird - even difficult - to just talk about normal things. After an intake of breath, I tried. "Yeah, I'm fine, I suppose."

"Pullox Shimmers!"

I barely had time to watch the more weedy Career slide out of the room, a smirk on his face as Elizabeth smiled. "Really? You're okay? I have to be kind of honest here, but if I get anymore nervous I'm going to pee myself." I laughed a little. "Seriously. It's all been sparkles and shimmers, and learning, but this is kind of where the competition really starts, where are skills are put to the test, isn't it?"

"I guess it is," I said sadly. "No more fun and games."

"There'll be Games, just not much fun," Elizabeth sighed, slumping down onto the couch. "Sometimes, back at home, when life got too much I'd pretend I was a different person. I wasn't picky about the kind of person... sometimes I'd be a vampire hunter, or an astronaut," she smiled weakly. "But I was someone else, you know? And at the time, that was enough. But this isn't really enough. I can't escape to the moon, because no matter how hard I'd try, I'd always be in the Capitol, ready to go to the Games."

"Lorelei Draven!"

"I stopped playing a long time ago," I said, trying to remember if I had ever played pretend in my life. I suppose I hadn't. The brutality of the Districts had forced all but the most fortunate to stop playing pretend or dressing up, and learning how to survive off barely any money. I looked at some kids play in dirt of snow whilst I was cooped up in the butchers, working, or prepared to trudge a five mile journey to get to school and try and learn something. "I guess there's always a point where live becomes unaccommodating for that kind of stuff."

"Yeah..." Elizabeth smiled. "When our childhood dreams, our imaginary friends that we confide in... when they fade, when the places that were once playgrounds become warzones or extermination camps, it's too late, and we kind of realise..." She didn't finish her sentence. Elizabeth was always quite distant, but I knew her mind was somewhere else as tears were forged in her eyes. "I don't know where to turn to now I'm in need. Why does this have to even happen? Violence is cool when you read about it in stories and comics... but..."

"Jericho Aylin!" The girl with the clipboard announced. A hulking Career raised himself, and I watched him march past Giovanni, who was in the corner alone. I used to think Giovanni was a creep, but after our one conversation I just saw him as a guy who was locked in a history I couldn't comprehend. Deep in there, a potentially nice guy was dormant. Maybe he'd never activate, but it hurt knowing he was there.

"Don't hold onto the past," was all I said to Elizabeth, hollowly.

"That's too much to ask..."

"I guess it is," I smiled. I once knew a guy who I would talk about this stuff with. Dhaos, a customer in the butchers turned friend, had introduced me to literature, some of it banned, and told me things I had never thought about: did time exist? Did we even exist? What do we truly know? Was there a god, or an absolute set of morals in the world? He led me to question life, to read a lot, to question the integrity of the corrupt Capitol. "One author once said that times flies over us, but always leaves its shadow behind. I guess you can close your eyes and block the shadows out, but they'll always be there."

"I guess that's true," Elizabeth smiled.

"Elizabeth Korrapati!"

My ally froze.

"Just go out there and show them," I smiled. "And even if you slip up, you have me, okay?"

We hugged very briefly. Awkward would be an overstatement, but I knew Liz felt comfortable that way. Like me, she was used to being loved and cared for before the Games, a rarity for many of us. She must have felt so lonely, I could tell from the way her tears brushed against my skin. After pulling away, she stood and nodded with determination. As if she were storming into the arena itself, she remained strong and composed as she made her way into the training centre. I only hoped she did okay.

I didn't know how long you were given with the Gamemakers, but I sat alone for what seemed like an eternity before Liz's enigmatic District partner was called up. He glanced at me once, as if he had been observing me this whole time, and then he quickly walked out of the room and left me in silence. I paused, playing with my hair as others were called up, female to male order: Honora stormed out of the room, followed by her nervous looking District partner. Next the narrow eyed Five girl was herded out the room, then her more impressive looking District partner.

I lounged around, the room slowly getting smaller and less claustrophobic. When the Six boy was called out only thirteen of us remained. I noticed some socialising take place: the Ten tributes talked, as did the Seven boy, Six girl and Eight boy. They chatted quietly amongst themselves, only interrupted when the Six girl was called away.

I wondered if this was what the arena would be like? At first it would feel stuffy and claustrophobic, filled with so many killers. But as time passed, we all faded away into ghosts, going into the next room and never being seen again. It was a kind of creepy way to look at it, but that was how I imagined it to be. When I truly thought about it, it was strange knowing that of all the people in this room only two would be alive in a month's time: the annoying Capitolite in her high heels, and whichever tribute in the room had the most luck.

"Hey."

I glanced beside me. Giovanni had appeared, smiling a little.

"Hey," I responded.

"Nervous?" He smiled.

"You're the psychologist," I glanced at him. "You tell me."

"I don't know why counselors even bother asking people how they feel when they already know the answer," Giovanni smiled at me. "In fact, I do. Not everyone is like you, Tear. People like small talk. People like it when their feelings are validated. I don't even know why I'm calling myself a counselor, you know? I'm not really a counselor. Counselors help people. And well, come to think about it, I listened to my dad over my mum. And my dad has made me do pretty bad shit. I've beaten people up, blackmailed people, stolen from people..."

"Have you ever seen anyone die before?" I asked.

He glanced at me, almost looking terrified. "Why would you ask that question?"

"Just curious, I suppose. No doubt we'll be used to it soon."

"Yes..." Giovanni paused. "I've seen someone die. I kind of regret it, but I didn't have a choice."

"You shouldn't have any regrets," I smiled, wishing Rita was here with me.

"Conifer King! Yes dear, it's your turn!"

Our bubble of conversation burst as I thought about death. I didn't want Rita to see me die, but she probably would. In the Justice Building she held me and sobbed as I begged her to not look at the television while it happened. I told her I loved her so many times. And I realised that even if I thought regrets were futile, I still had them. I didn't regret what I had done - nobody regrets what they have done - I merely regretted what I didn't do. I wish I didn't know how finite my time with Rita was, so everytime I held her or played with her hair I knew each second was golden. I wish I told Rita I loved her that little bit more.

But volunteering for somebody was the ultimate sign for love. That's what most people say in District Nine, anyway. I hoped that in doing that I would show the bigots in District Nine that just because Rita and I were the same gender didn't mean that our love was invalid. It was as valid as anyone else's. If it wasn't, why would I put my life on the line for her?

"What are you thinking?" Giovanni said. "I can see the nostalgia in your eyes."

Rita still lingered in my mind. "Hm? I guess I was just thinking about everyone back home and how I miss them. I miss my girlfriend, I miss the way she'd love to go on walks in the greenest fields of District Nine, and how she liked to dance." I smiled. "And I kind my mum's uptightness. I miss my brother, even though he's the biggest idiot I've ever met. I don't know, I miss a lot of things. I miss my dad."

"Lets not talk about fathers."

"Why?" I paused. "Daddy issues?"

"Hadley Allard!"

Giovanni glared at me. "You have no idea, princess. I've noticed you are psychologically healthy, granted, some people would say homosexuality is a... mental disturbance..." I tried to hide how insulted I felt. "But I disagree, really. You've been raised with all this love and attention. Granted, I'm rich," I frowned. Giovanni said he volunteered for the money, so there was a hole in his sob story. "But I've never felt the richness of love. My mother was always kind of distant, especially when she split away from my dad, my brother is a textbook sociopath who values numbers more than people and my dad..." He glanced at the ground. "My dad isn't worth mentioning."

"He's the reason you're here... isn't he?"

A pause. "Mirane Saffell, please!"

"I told you I volunteered because-"

"Because you needed the money," I turned to face him seriously. "But you just told me you were rich," his face turned crimson. "If I had to fit the jigsaw pieces of your history I have together, you've been made to see someone die, you've been made to beat people up, and you said your father wasn't worth mentioning. And that you were rich. He was a crook, wasn't he?" I noticed Giovanni's panic when, for once, he was the one who was being read. "And you've been dragged into it somehow. So how did you end up here?"

Giovanni's face fell, around us people still chattered silently, and yet he looked so alone and isolated. He was always so stoic, because to truly know other people's emotions without bias you had to be devoid of them yourself. But Giovanni was not a robot even if he liked to pretend he was. He liked to pick at other's feelings because he couldn't bear to feel his own feelings. After pausing reluctantly, like a criminal he confessed:

"My dad killed someone from a rival gang's kid, right in front of me," he said this matter of factly. "He thought he could get away with it because my brother made some bullshit calculation, like you could calculate that kind of stuff, right?" He chuckled darkly. "When they found out it was my dad, they immediately raided the pharmacies - or should I say brothels and drug trading posts - that my dad owned. They threw him into a stalemate. Either he watched as his life crumbled, or he made it even and gave a son for a son."

"I know what my dad would do."

"Darius Cortez? No, no, this way!"

"The reasonable thing?" Giovanni snickered. "First rule of psychology: humans are inherently selfish, and every thing we do is motivated to please ourselves in one way or another. My dad didn't do the reasonable thing your dad may have done, as if I were a good to give away, he discarded me." Giovanni's eyes trailed to his lap. "Instead of having them execute me, he managed to convince them to allow me to volunteer for these stupid Games, because apparently I have more chance of survival here. What's worse? My dad thought he was a good person for doing that." His voice trembled. "He told me he'd protect me. But he lied."

"He's not a nice person," I gripped Giovanni's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. I wasn't an affectionate person, and yet the pressure of the Games had brought out an affectionate part of me I didn't know existed. "But you can be. My advice? Fight to get out of here. Show your dad who is boss. If you get home, make sure he realises what he's done to you."

"Life isn't a fairytale... Chances of me getting home to show him I'm strong are the same chances of you having the perfect reunification with Rita," he noticed my expression and shrugged. "Sorry, honesty hurts like a bitch."

"Tear Nikuya!"

That was my name. Being called was like the feeling I had when Rita was called at the reapings, a less dramatic feeling anyway. A nervous sensation engulfed my stomach and I stood up and glared at Giovanni, standing slowly and looking at him.

"At least I'm working on it," I said, storming towards the irritated looking Capitolite.

The training centre had been absolutely obliterated. Some of the tributes who had been in here previously had certainly tore the house down: lights from above were smashed on the floor beneath whilst the surrounding walls were full of large craters. Most dummies had been impaled or obliterated. Even whole stations had been destroyed, and black burn marks crawled away from the electrical station - I was betting on Elizabeth pulling that fancy trick; such a trick was definitely enough to score reasonably high.

The Gamemakers all sat in front of me like a judging panel. The Head Gamemaker, in his fancy blue robes, had a kind expression and messy hair. I observed how relatively young he was for a man in his position - thirties at oldest. An older woman next to him, the one who had visited the training centre a few times, forced her tight lips into a smile before addressing me.

"Tear, you may now begin."

What was there to do? I had five minutes at most, and suddenly time seemed to be a physical entity in the room with me, slowly fading into nothing. Knowledge I had acquired in the past few days seemed to all be there in front of me. Acting on impulse, I moved towards the weapons I could handle comfortably: knives. There were only a few left in the station, so I gripped all of them, trying to display how well build I was by grabbing the rack of launching it, watching wood splinter into thousands of pieces.

Most Gamemakers were usually bored by this point. The important ones remained attentive, but the lesser ones giggled over wine. The noise I made seemed to grip their interests a little bit more. I rushed towards the climbing wall, passing dummies and slashing at them. Their stuffing fell to the floor as I passed them, slashing and stabbing mercilessly. Most impressively, as I reached the final dummy I threw my body into a roll, slashing forwards as I rose from it and watching a plastic head neatly slide to the ground.

I didn't know how impressive I appeared. Possibly not weak after that? There were moving targets surrounding us, some would move horizontally, others vertically. Realising that it was my best bet at appearing powerful, I threw myself onto the climbing wall, gripping rock after rock and forcing my body weight forwards, my muscles straining at the speed I was forcing myself to go at. When I got to the top of the wall I launched the few knives that I had; some missed, but some hit the few of the moving targets that darted towards the ceiling. One even hit the centre!

Feeling triumphant and foolishly fearless, I threw myself from the climbing wall instead of climbing down. It was quite the fall, but hardly deadly. I broke my fall pretty well, channeling my motion into a forward roll. Still, my ankles throbbed at the impact. I was out of sight from the Gamemakers, having landed behind one of the stations. I doubted I had more than a minute left. What if I could impress them in other ways? In showing stealth, in moving from one place to another without being seen?

The station propped up high, blocking me out of sight. Hoping to divert the Gamemaker's attention, I gripped my last remaining knife and threw it at a target beside me. I heard it clatter onto the floor, probably missing, but I hoped it was enough to distract the Gamemakers. I rolled from one station to behind the desk of another station, observing my surroundings: I seemed close to a shadowy part of the training centre, which seemed good enough, right? Forcing myself to dive there, I tried my best to blend in with my surroundings, the Gamemakers now in sight as I ran towards them.

When I launched myself out of the shadows, some seemed quite startled. However a few, including the elderly female Gamemaker, seemed to have kept their eye on me all this time. Looked like stealth was a lot more difficult than I expected. It didn't help that they knew where I was to begin with, and assuming shadows could completely conceal me was kind of foolish.

"That was pretty good," the Head Gamemaker smiled.

"Yes, yes," his deputy glanced up at me. "Thank you, Tear. You're free to leave now."

Willow Horvat, District 11, 13:

"Giovanni Bescari!"

I had been kind of alone in the Games. Which I didn't mind. My District partner was... weird, and he was mysterious. He'd keep away from me and conversations between us were extremely brief. I didn't plan on allying with any girls though... most girls were stupid and into useless frilly things. There were exceptions, for example me, and I didn't think girls were naturally stupid or anything, but we had a culture that raised them in such a way. As for the guys? They kind of all got excluded too. The Careers were... well, Careers... the Three boy was weird, the Five boy had an ally, so did the Six and Ten boys, the Seven and Eight boys were in an alliance, the Nine boy was some kind of creeper who stared at me like a pervert whenever I was close by, the Twelve boy was in an alliance and as said before, Nate was the most distant person I had met.

So though I loved being one of the guys, though I loved play fights and races, I found myself sat in the corner alone for once, watching everybody else talk. I hated to say it, but it was kind of nice. The Capitol had given me a luxury I didn't know existed, a luxury I didn't know I liked: peace. Wherever I was, something was always happening and there was always action. I guess that's because I threw myself into action or provoked it. So I was always out wrestling with friends, shouting insults at the stupid prisses who would call me names like 'horseface' because of my narrow and bony facial structure, or I'd be annoying my brothers or arguing with my parents and my obedient, little Princess sister. Now everything around me was just kind of... quiet.

"Carlie Compton!"

I watched the stupid bimbo from District Ten get up, shaking her hips like a slut as she made her way out of the room. She reminded me of my sister, of my mother and of all the annoying girls. From a young age, I kind of found I could never really blend in with them. I wasn't one for dresses, or lipstick, or playing princess. And it frustrated my mother and sister that I wasn't. I guess deep inside I was a tomboy, one who enjoyed dirt and mudfights and sport and competition. That kind of led to me being bullied too, not just for being short, stocky and 'horse faced', but for being different to everybody else.

Usually guys seemed kind of cool with it. I liked to talk to guys, and I liked how like me, they were always up for action and a challenge. My dad was always cool, my brothers thought I was much more fun than our older sister, and all of the guy friends I made: Birch, Flint, Lark, Trent, Perto, they were always cool. Beside working for District Eleven's delivery service, my life was kind of simple, just playing with them and having a blast.

"Aurochs Vierra!"

But now I was alone, shaking my leg awkwardly and waiting to be called into the training centre where I'd be assessed. I liked sport, but when that sport was death, it... lost it's appeal. Losing wasn't just having hurt feelings. Losing was dying. I never really imagined dying at such a young age, expecting to at least make it to fifty. As much as I hated District Eleven and its stupid government, I wanted to go back home. I had accepted the Games better than your average thirteen year old, I suppose, but now I kind of realised how screwed up this whole thing was.

I also realised how weak I was. I could wrestle and race kids around my own age, but eighteen year olds who had trained with weapons their whole life? No doubt I'd be labelled a Bloodbath. For the first time ever, the prospect of a violent game didn't appeal to me. The fire that always seemed to burn in me just seemed to go. I didn't even know what I was going to do.

I hadn't even finished school. How could these people expect me to honestly have a chance in a fight to the death?

"Willow Horvat."

Everyone's eyes seemed to settle on me. But, in the room that once seemed so full, it was now spacious. Everyone seemed intimidating. There was my District partner, who lay across a bunch of seats. He glanced at me. Both Twelve tributes were staring at me as I unsurely got to my feet, moving over to the door so that I could display myself to the Gamemakers. When I walked past the Twelve tributes, the ones who were usually the weakest, I felt a knot in my stomach; the girl blew a kiss at me and giggled maliciously, whereas the boy was almost a foot taller than me.

Sighing, I made my way into the Gamemakers' lair.

The training centre was a lot more messy than it was when I left. I stepped over debris, wood and even what looked like the metallic platings of the lights above. There wasn't a dummy that had survived the massacre committed by tributes who were desperate to show off. It was pretty creepy that these tributes could do all of this stuff. And what could I do? I guess I could show the Gamemakers a few tricks I had learnt and hope that was enough.

I felt so small as I made my way towards the Gamemakers, the vast room spread out before me. I was small, but I felt even more small than usual. Even if I was skilled, I would have a lot of the Gamemakers give me a bad score because they were bored at this point. They just looked at me and assumed that I was a little girl who was going to die. I knew I wasn't going to change their minds, but it would be nice to prove them wrong. The Gamemakers were either asleep of laughing raucously and only a few were actually paying attention.

"Beg-" The Head Gamemaker started, but an inebriated, purple haired woman next to him swept out her arm and sent pieces of paper scattering all around. The Gamemakers snatched at some desperately, and whilst some pieces of paper floated onto the ground like parachutes. I plucked one from the air and glanced at it slightly:

D1M: Impressive. Displayed good weapons ability and survival knowledge. Certainly a Career, and a clever one at that.

D1F: Reasonably good. Agile, good with weapons. Perhaps in with a chance, and certainly over average.

D2M: Definitely the strongest tribute in the arena, could impressively handle a sword and lift even the most impossible weights. Perhaps he is a victor.

D2F: Best ranged-knife tribute I have observed since Jynx Blackthorne came around, enough said.

D3M: Average. Performed in a mediocre way. Possibly an act, but regardless, he acted averagely and showed us mundane skills at a few stations, so a mediocre score shall be gifted.

D3F: Okay with a sword, considering she probably had no prior experience. Managed to use the electricity station and bend electricity to her will, a skill that isn't to be underestimated. Reasonable score needed.

D4M: Good with a spear, good strength, good speed, good swimmer, good looks, pleasant enough. But there was nothing particularly exceptional about him, especially considering he's trained his whole life.

D4F: Lets just say that she managed to knock down heavy lights and make them smash onto the floor. From the ground. She's insanely skilled and brutal, the perfect combination and the perfect victor.

D5M: Good agility, good strength, reasonable intelligence. He should be rewarded nicely.

D5F: Kind of useless, really. She gave us a few facts, but she's no victor... and that's putting it nicely.

D6M: He was good with a sword, he had his wits about him. He wasn't amazing, but he's good considering his District.

D6F: Agile and quick, but I don't see much else going for her apart from a grisly end in the Bloodbath. Perhaps she'll be able to run out of that, but beyond that, she has no hope.

D7M: Seemed clever enough, and displayed impressive wit and intellect. But seriously, he's not got much hope.

D7F: Good hand-to-hand skills, I guess, for her age. Generally though, her performance was less than average. I'd bet on her making it to the final fifteen with a little bit of luck.

D8M: He was quick, he was okay with a sword. Underdog alert? Probably not, but he deserves and okay-ish score.

D8F: One of the more impressive of the lower District collection. She was quick, she'd collected a good knowledge of martial arts, she seemed pretty clever and of all those in the lower Districts she easily had the most impressive aim. Watch out for her.

D9M: Nothing special, he was an okay shot, but that's the only compliment I can really give him.

D9F: Good with knives, climbed, showed a neat collection of skills. Her stealth stunt at the end seemed weird and out of place, but there was even potential in that, she certainly fooled the drunk ones! I guess a good score would be fitting, but I doubt she's a victor.

D10M: Pretty strong, but not the strongest. Okay with weapons, but far from the best. He's average, if not a little over.

D10F: She may look pretty, but there was no substance to her performance. She was good at first aid and mutt identification, so there's that, but I doubt it's going to make her the big bad of the arena.

D11-

"You aren't supposed to read that," the stern older Gamemaker ripped the paper from my hands. Honestly, I had only glanced over it, but it was enough to read what they had to say about every tribute. It was enough to tell me about a majority of the tribute's skill sets. I tried to digest the information before me, knowing I would never really be able to learn it all, but it was still something to go off. The Deputy Head Gamemaker towered above me in her heels. "When I return to my seat, you will begin. Okay?"

"O-Okay..." I sounded like a wimp. So much for a good first impression. Then again, I was a thirteen year old that barely scraped five feet. Did I stand a chance at making an impression?

I didn't even have a plan on what I was going to do, so that automatically made me look bad when I stumbled around like a bumbling fool, trying to find a station I could use well. Deciding to act on impulse, I moved to the station anyone from District Eleven could hone well - plants and herbs. Hoping the Gamemakers could see me, even though only four were paying attention, I showed them a bunch of the poisonous plants, gesturing to throw them away. I then picked the edible plants and gestured eating them and rubbing my stomach, hoping the Gamemakers caught my drift.

I then decided to rush over to the knot tying station, which was across the wide room. I had always raced and ran my way through life, so I rushed across the room, forcing my legs to pound as quickly as possible across the wooden floor beneath. Though I wasn't a bad runner, my stamina was less impressive, and I tried not to show how much I was struggling for air as I grabbed a loop of rope and showed the Gamemakers that I had learnt a good few types of knots: the halyard knot, the reef knot, the figure of eight knot. My hands continuously moved, clumsily tying and untying the different knots.

I ran to the shelter making station afterwards, flimsily managing to throw some leaves together in an attempt to make what looked like a shelter. I suppose considering I worked on it for two minutes it was okay - if I was given thirty minutes or an hour, which I probably would in the arena, it would look a lot better. But it camoflagued okay with the fake tree behind it, I managed to create a bed of leaves and also a roof. A roof that would be torn down with the slightest presence of wind, but it was kind of okay. As I stood up to move to the other station, I was halted.

"Timesup," the Head Gamemaker said cheerfully.

"What?" I paused. The Head Gamemaker looked a little intimidated as my face grew hot. He ran his hands through his messy hair nervously. "What the fuck, man? I was going to show you what I had learnt about starting a fire."

"Well... maybe we can add a minute, if you feel it will significantly contribute to your-"

"No, Tobias," the Gamemakers that were conscious were giggling, the drunker ones in tears of laughter, as if this whole thing was amusing. Well, I didn't find it funny. Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt both angry and humiliated while the bitch Deputy Gamemaker addressed me. "I'm sorry, Willow, but there's a designated time. You meet it, and if you don't, I'm sorry."

"This could be the difference between me getting a meal or not, between my parents having to watch me starve to death or not," I hissed, wiping the tears away quickly with my sleeve, not wanting the Gamemakers to see what a girl I was being.

"The rules are the rules," the Head Gamemaker looked a little bit sad at my words, and while his partner's voice softened with sympathy, she dismissively wrote something down onto a piece of paper. Probably stupid stuff about me. "I'm sorry Willow. Good day."

"Screw this," I spat, storming past a savaged dummy and launching it onto the floor.

With anger, I kicked its head once, the synthetic skull cracking. To vent out my frustration, I continuously kicked it, having a tantrum that would usually get me grounded for a month. But my anger was justified - I wasn't just being spoilt or misbehaving. My life was on the line and the Gamemakers didn't care! All they cared about was their stupid rules! I noticed Peacekeepers ready their weapons and move towards me, but with a simple hand gesture from the Head Gamemaker they halted and didn't move.

Once the stuffing of the dummy lay on the floor along with smidgeons of fake blood, I spat on it, pretending it was a Career, or a prissy girl, or one of the Gamemakers. And then I stormed out of the room, hoping nobody was in the District quarters so I could lock myself in my room and sob without somebody judging me and thinking I was like a girl.

"By the way," I paused before I left the room. "It's not Willow. It's Will."

Magellan LaMonte, the escort who took me to the Capitol, had to be the most annoying person I had ever met. First and foremost she was a girl, which already said a lot. Girls at home were stupid and prissy, but in the Capitol it was a whole other league. How vapid must you be to spend hours upon hours making sure your skin was an unattractive colour? How vain would you be to spend half of your salary making sure your perfect, stupid little face froze in time and refused to age? I certainly wished I could age. If I did I'd be a lot more competent. Being a kid was stupid.

"Willow, I know you were a naughty girl and missed dinner," I hated that stupid Capitolian accent, especially when it addressed me like I was two. "But dear, the scores are vitally important! Come out and see how well you did!"

I had spent the past few hours pretending I was asleep. When Magellan came and asked if I wanted to attend dinner, I simply told her that I was too ill to eat, and was left alone. But I couldn't just spend the past forever leaning against the door of my bedroom, curling up so that my face was buried in my knees and crying. I had numbed in the past hour or so, and when I was sure my face wasn't blotchy and red I decided it was time to stand up and face the world. If I was going to go into the arena, it would be better to go in with style.

I unlocked the door, kicking it open and confidently striding into the living room. Nate was already watching the television. I felt kind of bad for him, having a heart defect and all, but through training I couldn't help but notice he was actually... competent. Still, my best bet was that his heart would go on him. That would be the best thing. As the Capitol showed a Hunger Games firework display live on air, Nate watched the television, glints of guilt and remorse flickering across his face. Besides him, Magellan was giving him an essay on chocolate eclairs.

"And when the chocolate mixes with the whipped cream," she lectured the uninterested boy. "That is when you-"

I wanted to enter with style, but somebody seemed to do it better.: my escort, Iopian. He stumbled into the room, accidentally knocking into a vase and watching it smash into the ground. Iopian really was a clutz. In the past few days, he knocked into everything, smashed numerous objects accidentally and spilt water onto certain electrical appliances. For the rich, the broken objects could be easily fixed, so it wasn't a big deal.

"Oh no," he frowned. "Looks like we'll have to get the Avoxes back."

"The last Avox that came here disappeared," Magellan glared at Iopian with contempt. "They've searched all through District One's and Two's quarters for her."

"Ah," Iopian grinned a little. "Interesting..." He turned to me and smiled. "Hey Will," he ruffled my hair. And called me by my preferred name. Despite winning the Games a few years ago, Iopian had kept that District Eleven earthiness to him and I appreciated that. He was certainly a lot more bearable than Magellan. "So, how about you sit down and see what your scores are?"

I wanted to tell him how I didn't want to, how I was scared. But I grinned. "Yeah, lets do it."

The final remnants of the Capitol's fireworks show - which had made firework lions and dragons battle and roar through the sky, finally finished with a modest thousand or so Catherine wheels turning the sky into a cosmos of green, purple and blue. The smoke that rose from them was strategically crafted into a raven, the symbol of the Nystalgias, which rose over their palace before it faded into nothing. Magellan applauded, and even the three of us from District Eleven paused mouth agape. The Capitol certainly had style... I mean, rumour had it they did use a thousand tonnes of firework for the pyrotechnics, after all.

Caecilius Norton, the Capitol's most attractive news anchor, had appeared on the screen. He had spent the past few years reporting the news, but was promoted into doing Hunger Games stuff after the demise of Nadia Skettings.

"Well, wasn't that wonderful?" He grinned. "Here's the scores!"

The scores went by way too quickly for my liking, each new score, which flashed by a picture of the tribute that owned it, flashed by. The Careers were as impressive as ever: the One boy got a nine and his District partner an eight. Both scores scarily good, though low for their District. District Two had even scarier scores... both of them got tens. Considering the boy was described as the strongest in the arena, and the girl the best with knives, I was almost shocked it wasn't that bit higher. Following them the District Three boy got an unnoticeable score of five, his District partner managing to display a somewhat impressive score: a seven.

"Wow," Iopian paused. "Impressive for a Three girl, I dare say."

District Four came onto the screen. I noticed as the handsome District Four boy had a score of eight. That meant he was big, strong and deadly - an eight was an extremely impressive score. Yet I felt a little triumphant inside, as I had expected him to do so much better than that. The scary looking Four girl's name was announced: Honora. And then her score followed. At first I was indifferent as it flashed onto the screen, but then I digested what those letters meant: a one and a two next to each other...

... A twelve.

That was the best score anybody could ever get.

Everybody paused in shock as the Five tributes were announced. The Five girl got the useless score of three, and her District partner managed to get the highest non-Career score yet. A nine. Which was pretty cool. His score should have been shocking, but all of us still gawped at the Four girl's score. It had burned into our minds long after it had faded.

"I thought twelves were impossible..." Nate started.

"Not impossible..." Magellan cleared her throat.

"Thousands of tributes have walked in and been ranked," Iopian said, his tone much more serious than Magellan's dismissive tone. The Six boy and girl had been awarded a seven and four, respectively."And a score of twelve has only been given to tributes... what... thirteen times? Bear in mind Jynx Blackthorne has received a score of twelve twice, in her first two Games, age knocked her down to an eleven but she still won... but that's beside the point. A score of twelve is just..."

"Yes, it's very good, but it doesn't mean she's definitely going to win," Magellan flicked her wrist and sighed as the District Seven boy was granted a score of four. "Lets focus on other things, look, the Seven girl was rated a score of five! Brava, brava!"

This was why Magellan annoyed me.

Honestly, the lower Districts flashed by like a photobook of the unmemorable Bloodbaths. That's what Nate and I would probably be, anyway. The Eight boy was ranked with a five. The Eight girl was ranked more generously, with an eight, and I tried to remember her as one of the more competent tributes in the game. The Nine boy was ranked with a three, so he screamed bloodbath, even if he creeped me out. Once again, his District partner was ranked with a seven, distinguishing her from the others as one of the memorable tributes.

The Ten boy also got a seven, and I realised that alongside the Careers, there were other tributes that seemed as if they could claw at the victor's crown. Assuming all six Careers made it to the final eight, how could I hope to be the lucky two District kids that sneaked my way into the final eight too, when there were a handful of impressive kids this year? Fortunately, the Ten boy's District partner only got a four, so she wasn't quite as impressive.

I paused when I realised that this was District Eleven's turn. I acted as cool and casual as possible, as if scores didn't phase me. I was thankful it showed the boy's score first, as I didn't want to have my shitty score forced out in front of me. Nate's face appeared, with the messy hair and those memorable dark eyes. Following was his score... and it was... actually not bad. It was a six. Nothing amazing, but it put him a step ahead a bunch of the other tributes.

"Hey!" Magellan smiled. "We can work with that!"

I smiled and nodded at Nate in a congratulatory fashion, when I turned back towards the television screen my gut sank a little. I was rewarded a four. I cursed out loud, immediately getting reprimanded by my escort as I realised that I was going to be one of the many that would be put on the Bloodbath list. But honestly... a four wasn't awful. It put me on the same tier as some kinds older than me. In fact, for a thirteen year old, a four wasn't absolutely atrocious.

"Hey," Iopian ruffled my hair. "Chin up kid. The audience will realise you're only thirteen, they won't think you're awful."

"What thirteen years olds win anyway?" I frowned as the Twelves got their scores. The boy's was impressive, as I expected it to be: an eight. His District partner, however, only got a three, which was lower than my score, and a lot lower than I expected the confident girl to get.

So many tributes. Some good, some mediocre, some bad.

But all so different.

I sat by, watching the blank television screen, my facial expression similarly empty as the world moved on around me: Magellan went to bed, Iopian went to the kitchen to get a drink, Nate went into the bathroom to shower. And here I was, just staring at the television, wondering what my chances really were considering I was surrounded by diverse and strong tributes.

Hello guys :)

Training is really difficult, and I couldn't show everyone's training session for the Gamemakers, so I used Willow as a vehicle to give you a shallow glimpse at a lot of them, and will use this author's note to tell you what those we didn't see did: 'Nate' severely underplayed 'his' talents, just showing off knife skills and some survival skills, Luke used his impressive memory and displayed some impressive combat skills and Freya tried to strip in front of the Gamemakers, because she didn't have much else to do. Sadly, Ruth was less than impressed because of what Freya had tried to do earlier on in the story and scolded Freya, who just showed some flimsy knife skills in her last minute.

So here are the scores (pay attention - some of them are game changers!)

Pullox Shimmers: 9

Alexandria Tarsus: 8

Jericho Aylin: 10

Lorelei Draven: 10

Trojan Reid: 5

Elizabeth Korrapati: 7

Ross Deverell: 8

Honora Flloyd: 12

Magnus Carmine: 9

Leda Viscoy: 3

Sebastian Keating: 7

Brandy Gripen: 4

Hadley Allard: 4

Conifer King: 5

Darius Cortez: 6

Mirane Saffell: 8

Giovanni Bescari: 3

Tear Nikuya: 7

Aurochs Vierra: 7

Carlie Compton: 4

Nathan Fauve: 6

Willow Horvat: 4

Luke Diorite: 8

Freya Garnsey: 3

Don't panic if your tribute got a bad score! I have to remind people of this every year. Am I realistic? Yep. If you send me a weak tribute, chances are they're not going to be victors, but in the overall Bloodbath score doesn't matter - some skilled tributes always die in my bloodbaths, so do some mediocre ones, and so do some weak ones. Score is a very weak way to determine who will die, with the weaker tributes only having a slightly higher chance of dying in the Bloodbath.

A much stronger way of estimating tributes' chances of dying in the Bloodbath are popularity, if a tribute is popular they've got a higher chance of surviving. And the biggest factor is reviews. Have you not been reviewing much? Well, don't be too surprised if your tribute kicks the bucket. But as I said, there are so many factors that will determine the Bloodbath, so (hopefully) no-one will be able to guess too well.

~Toxic

Question for this chapter: Who do you personally think will meet their end in this year's Bloodbath?