Faith Gordald, 18

District Three Female

After the 1st Games, we still had hope. They'd made their point; the Capitol was in full control. They didn't need to kill more of us. But our hope was crushed when President Song announced the next Hunger Games.

My family hated the Capitol and they hated the Games. We were rebels through and through, and now I was the only one left. I wasn't surprised when I was Reaped. I figured they would target rebels. I had no one to say goodbye to me, and no one to mourn me. I expected to be scared, but I was just angry. They'd taken everything from me. My family, my autonomy, and now, my morality.

Monsters made monsters.

The arena sun was hot and the air was dry. The Cornucopia was the only break in an endless sea of grass. It got taller and taller the further one went. The little kids would be able to hide just fine. Tall girls like me had to make sure they didn't get the chance.

When the timer reached its end I sprinted toward the wealth of supplies. I picked up a sleek metal bow, slung a quiver of arrows over my back, nocked one, and took aim at a pudgy boy's back.

It wasn't a perfect hit, but it was enough. The arrow sank into his lower back and he fell. I spun to pick a new target, taking down two other kids with my arrows. Then, one by one, I found them in the grass and slit their throats.

I sat in the shade of Cornucopia while the bodies were collected by a hovercraft. There were plenty of water bottles and packaged rations, as well as backpacks, sleeping bags, and first aid kits. I stuffed a large backpack as full of supplies as I could, attached a heavy flashlight to my belt, and set off into the grass.

I hunted the grasslands for two days, sleeping only when I felt like I couldn't stay awake for a moment longer. I kept track of the direction of the Cornucopia for when I needed to return, but I was determined to catch someone first.

It was early in the morning when I found a tribute. She was curled up in the grass, shivering. When she saw me she tried to get up and run but I pounced on her, using my knife to cut her throat.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way," I told her when her cannon fired. "But I'm not going to lose."

The Capitol wanted us to kill each other and I was playing their Game. I hated them with every fiber of my being, but my desire to live was stronger. I would kill all twenty-three tributes if it meant going home.

Cannons had been firing throughout the past few days, and now there were only four of us left. I'd killed four tributes and I was ready to take out the rest. I'd been stalking someone all day, following their footprints and the broken grass stalks they left behind. I hoped I would catch them soon.

But in the end, they caught me. A small form tackled me to the ground, landing blow after blow on my face. I dug my fingers into my attacker's eye and he screamed, reeling back. I scrabbled for my knife, hoping to grab it before he recovered, but his forearm came down on my neck.

He pressed down as I gasped for air. These could be my final moments… but I would not let that happen. I bucked my whole body, knocking the boy loose enough for me to get up on my elbows. I bashed my head into his nose and he screamed again as it cracked.

I stretched my hand out, reaching for anything I could use as a weapon. My fingertips brushed the fletching on an arrow that fell from the quiver and I grabbed it. As the boy's fist came down again, I stabbed my arrow deep into his throat.

His wide, terrified eyes bored into mine as he grasped at the arrow shaft. I pushed him off of me. His cannon fired a heartbeat later. I wiped the blood off my face, gathered my supplies, and left the body behind.

I decided to go back to the Cornucopia. I could replenish my supplies and my weapons and take a few moments to rest. As I walked, I thought of the five kids I'd killed. No, I told myself. Tributes. The boy who attacked me must have only been fifteen or sixteen. I knew the girl I killed in the bloodbath was twelve. They were supposed to be children, but they weren't anymore. We were the Capitol's playthings.

I reached the Cornucopia a few hours after sunset. Everything was still and quiet and I went as deep into the horn as I could to set up my sleeping bag. I got in, still clutching a knife, and tried to sleep.

A cannon in the early hours of the morning jolted me awake. The sky was gray and just beginning to show pink streaks of sunlight. There were two of us left to see the sun rise, and only one of us would watch it set.

In the end, my final opponent turned out to be a tall, lithe boy from District 10. I didn't know his name and I didn't care. As he approached, crouched low in the grass, I fired my arrows with intent to kill.

He did his best to dodge, but one arrow pierced his left shoulder. As he staggered, I tossed my bow aside and charged. I had a knife in each hand by the time I reached him and he only had one. But he was taller than me and had more muscle.

My first strike slashed his cheek open while my other hand punched his injured shoulder. He moaned as he tried to back away, but I was relentless. I swiped and stabbed, never ceasing my onslaught of attacks. I felt his knife slicing at my stomach but there was no pain. Only heat and anger.

When he fell, I went down with him. My knife went straight into his throat and his cannon fired. As it echoed around me, I sat up on my knees, one hand holding my bloody knife in the air and the other clutching my savaged stomach.

"Was this what you wanted?" I screamed. And then I began to sob.