CHARM STERLINGSHIRE- Beth Crissino

She must have finally gotten too close to Isabella. I was glad she was gone, but Laken and I shared a nervous look. We were the apex predators now, and apex predators didn't get along well together.

Irina Sokolova, District One mentor

I felt so bad. It was my first year mentoring and I'd been rooting the whole time for my Tribute to die. It wasn't my fault Charm was... Charm. And Majesty was... Majesty. There's always next year.

District One

We didn't want to say it. It was just about the most humiliating thing we could possibly admit. But maybe, it was possible, Four might have some good ideas. It might be we should start imitating them- disgusting though it may be- and start incorporating mental health standards as part of the volunteering process.

ROMEO AUTO- Valencia Cadillac

I didn't think of him again.

AMARANTH HARVEY- Kade McNamara

Just me left, then. People like me didn't win the Games. People like me died. Hades won, and that was it. People like me died, until none of us were left. Looked like that would be pretty soon.

Randy Mills, District Nine mentor

"It wasn't your fault," Loki was saying.

"I could have done something," I said.

"People their age just don't win. No matter who's helping them," Loki said.

"I could have gotten them more sponsors," I said.

"No one's going to sponsor a blind kid. No one cared enough."

"I cared enough."

District Nine

Jack's father tragically developed total vision loss after his son died. It didn't get him any new marks, since we all knew he took the bandages off every night and walked home. Amaranth's friends honored her in the best way she could have asked for- throwing water balloons at Capitolites who came to gawk at her grave.

Mike Mothra, District Eight male (16)

"Can't believe Charm's really dead."

I stretched out my leg as I sat by the fire. With the fancy first aid stuff in the Cornucopia, it was knitting super fast. It was already a closed wound, and I could move around if I didn't put too much weight on it. It was weird to think the same injury might have killed me back home, and definitely would have here if we weren't in the Cornucopia.

"Guess she finally starved or something," Isabella said.

"But Amaranth died at the same time," I said.

"Crazy theory, but I bet she did it," Isabella said. "She was smarter than Charm thought."

"I wish we could have helped her," I said. Even I knew it was just a idealistic dream, but that didn't stop me from wishing it was true.

"You don't think..." Isabella started. She looked at me guiltily and then looked away.

"I don't think he's strong enough. Bummer of a way to get exonerated, but..." Zebulon could kill a little blind boy, but Charm? Possible, but not likely.

"Laken's still out there," Isabella said in a weirdly hopeful tone. Or it would have been weird, if I hadn't known she was hoping Laken would kill Zebulon before she had to.

I shifted as the moist ground underneath me seeped into the seat of my pants. It was gross enough living here, where we could dry our socks over our fire and rotate clothes. I couldn't imagine what it was like for the others out there with no supplies. Honestly, I didn't know how anyone could be alive after this long.

"When I get home, I'm going to take the longest shower of my life," Isabella said, noticing my discomfort and swiping some mud off her arm.

"That's the problem. Showers are wet and I never want to be wet again," I said.

"When they take you back to the Capitol they'll probably clean you while they do the medical stuff," Isabella offered.

"Much better. Strangers wiping down my pale, wasted, naked body," I said. I smiled to cover up the twinge of wistfulness. Isabella had said "when". It wasn't even an "if" for me. I wasn't going back, no matter how much Isabella wanted that to be true.

"You think in the Capitol they'll let you get cosmetic stuff? Like, let you be more moth-y?" Isabella asked.

"I saw that one stylist with the tiger face. I guess it's cool there," I said. I imagined myself with big moth wings. They probably wouldn't be able to fly, or everyone in the Capitol would be flying, but they could at least look right. Maybe they could be a little sturdier than real moth wings. But imagine going to bed and wrapping two soft, feathery moth wings around yourself.

"I'm lucky. I look like my parents, who are both super famous, so they probably won't mess with me too much," Isabella said. "Oh my gosh. What if they make you-" She cut herself off.

"It's okay. I get it," I said with an easy smile. She'd been about to say "normal". I didn't mind people pointing it out. It was as obvious as the weird-looking nose on my face. I'd always been this way and I didn't see any fuss about it. If people made a scene, all the better for me, since it weeded out the sort of people I didn't need in my life. "But yeah, that would be a mess. Imagine just waking up in an entirely new body."

"I wonder if that's how the resurrected Tributes feel," Isabella mused. "Same looks, but entirely different body, you know?"

"Like a butterfly, but without the... butterfly part," I said. "Lost my train of thought there, but you get it."

I jumped when the Anthem blared out of nowhere, falling back down into my own wet spot with a splat.

"-Feast." Most of Isabella's sentence was drowned out by the music, but I got that much. Her trepidation brought to mind where the feasts were usually held: at the Cornucopia.

"Good afternoon, Tributes. We have a very special announcement today..."

Isabella Disney-Busattil, District Eleven female (18)

"After decades of excellent service, Master of Ceremonies Polyphemus Ignotus has elected to retire. We thank him for the joy and entertainment he has brought the entire nation. He leaves a great emptiness behind him, one that no one could ever fill. However, it is a long-honored tradition that the Master of Ceremonies selects his own replacement. Polyphemus, would you like to do the honors?"

"Thank you, Theodora. I'm delighted to tell you all that my decision was obvious. I'm told I can choose anyone in the entire nation- anyone I like to be my successor. And I choose Isabella Disney-Busattil."

"What?!"Mike looked from the sky to me and broke into a huge grin.

"What?" I asked, not believing in the slightest that I understood what was going on.

"If Ms. Busattil will simply stay in place, a hovercraft will arrive directly to remove you to the Capitol for debriefing and introduction to your new duties. We are delighted to honor you with Capitol citizenship and hope you enjoy your exciting new career!"

"What? Now?" I asked.

"Well yeah, when did you think? After you died?" Mike said. He slapped me on the back. "You're getting out of here!"

"But I can't go! What about you?" I asked. Already I could feel the hovercraft wind tousling my hair. I stood to wave it off.

Mike stood up next to me and took his hand in mine. "You need to go," he said, only the tiniest hint of sadness in his smile. "There's people who need you."

"I don't want to leave you," I said again.

"I'd be dead already if it wasn't for you. Be proud of the time you gave me, not sad for the time you couldn't," Mike said.

I clung to his hand, my fingers seeking to anchor him and take him with me. I started to hyperventilate as the hovercraft appeared, blowing my hair wildly and threatening to drown out our words.

"Come with me," I begged, even though I knew it couldn't be.

Mike looked up at the hovercraft. "I think they'd be pretty mad," he said. He stepped out of the way as a ladder dropped down between us.

I pulled him into a hug, tears spilling over as I clung to him. He was so small in my arms, so fragile and easy to destroy. I'd always loved Four. I never dreamed I would have wished I'd been born in Eight. Anything to have gotten more time with the best friend I'd barely known. Not like this. Not with no warning, just here with Mike one second and gone the next.

Mike guided my hand to the ladder. My fingers clenched the rung with whatever field the Capitol used to hold Tributes in place.

"Come back to me," I whispered as the ladder started to rise.

Mike smiled up at me, waving as I rose. "Turn on the porch light," he said. "I'll find you."

The ground receded beneath me as I went over it again and again. It was a dream, surely. No one just got taken out of the Games to a life of luxury on a golden coach. It couldn't be real, since I had to stay with Mike. He'd die if I left. But he seemed so peaceful about it- happy, even. Happy for me. And that was why no one would ever be like him.

8th place: Isabella Disney-Busattil- Survived

I knew Isabella would be a tough death right when I got her, being the daughter of two beloved Victors. She would have been an obvious pick to win, but I already had someone else in mind, so I resigned myself to it. Then I got this idea... seeing as Polyphemus is like 100 years old, couldn't he retire and pick Isabella? Wouldn't that be JUICY? I always avoided non-victor survivors in my stories, with the exception of a few supernatural moments and the open-ended Skada situation, but I thought oh what the heck... I only have a few SYOTs left before I hit 74, and why not let someone have a happy ending. So here's Isabella, everyone! Alive and well and going home to her parents. No Peppermint spending decades in mourning. No Loki being miserable after winning. Just a happy ending. There's enough sadness in the world.