Goliath

Remus Sparrow

District 1 Male

I need to kill him.

My brother. He's here. He's stalking the forest, hunting me in between the trees. Once nighttime arrives he returns to torment me in my nightmares, laughing while I squirm below him. I try to shoot him with my crossbow, the weapon I trusted to fulfill my wishes, but he is impossible to hit. I try to strangle him, but somehow someone attacks me just as I'm about to finish him off. No matter what I do he keeps slipping from my grasp.

I can see him smile. That wicked, sadistic smile no one bothered to be worried about. In fact, it was seen as a positive. A child this excited about the games would be the perfect volunteer they said. He will bring honor and glory to his family they said. I believed them too. Even when I was unnerved by his manners I never questioned it; I simply tried to keep my distance and let him do his thing.

But I was wrong. Everyone was wrong. And it is the innocent who paid the price.

Such a prime specimen, I can hear him whisper in my ear. You have killed so many people. So many children. You should be proud. You should strive to kill even more.

Keep quiet! I clench my crossbow even harder as I squirm in the back of the cornucopia. It doesn't matter how many lives I end - the only one I can kill is Amulius. I was supposed to go out there and search for him. Search for that killer in the dark. But then I see him stalking in the forest and I just crawl back into the horn.

I crawl until I'm surrounded by golden walls and weapons, where I'm left to my thoughts. These walls block me from keeping track of him and let my imagination run wild. However, these walls also protect me from him. Like a deer hiding from a wolf, I don't dare to leave my hiding place.

I'm the deer. I'm nothing. I can't kill, I can't fight, and I can't protect my sister. What was I doing? I wanted to know. I wanted to understand why my brother could do such a thing, but not only that. I wanted to be powerful. I wanted to protect myself. But I have done nothing but torment myself over and over again until I'm about to break. I failed. I failed. Where is my satisfaction? Where is the joy in killing him?

No, no, no. I can hear him laugh in my ear. I'm still strong. I can still fight. Amulius might be able to escape, but he can't beat me. I've been able to overpower him in every fight so far. Right? Right?

You can't kill me. I'm already dead. I died with a smile on my face.

You failed.

"Shut up," I mutter. He's not dead. Why then, is he haunting me wherever I go? Why do I see him behind the rocks, standing on the mountain, or peeking from the dark? No, there is still a monster that needs to be killed.

Yes, I still need to kill. I'm in the Hunger Games. Together with me is Amulius somewhere out there. The others trusted him to let him into the pack, and so did I, and now they are all dead. He must have killed a lot. Tormented tributes beyond fathomability. I've chased after him through the entire Games and I've gotten close. So close I can almost taste it. Taste his blood.

Close. But not close enough.

Close enough to hurt you.

Why? Do you think it matters to me?

No. It matters to me.

Does it really?

I want to tear out his teeth. Cut off his ears and forcefully feed him. Then I can rest easy. This is not about power. This is not about understanding. This is revenge: anyone who has his soul will fit. Fit for the revenge that I sought for so long.

Then I will finally gain my peace.

Amulius snickers. You can't even kill Blush, and you want to take revenge on me? I could kill her if I wanted to, you know. Do horrible things to her. Things you never could, things you are never capable of.

Blush doesn't exist. She's simply one of the masks you tricked me into believing was someone else. However, I have seen enough. No other person can kill this easily or as well as you. There are no other tributes in this arena than you Amulius.

I will never fall for your tricks again.

I have a sword. A different weapon from the crossbow, the old friend who has betrayed me so many times. I have practiced sword-fighting enough - enough to kill you once and for all. I dismember your body and tear up your throat. Even if you try to call yourself "Blush" I won't spare you any mercy.

You will show yourself once the final showdown will come. Soon the dawn will break and I will meet you in battle. This is the only choice I have left. My soul might be dead but my body is not, and it is prepared. Never again shall I fail. I tried reconciliation: it died with Vesta. I tried catharsis: it died when you were executed with a smile on your face. I tried bravery: it died when I entered the Games.

There are no paths left for me other than one.

Amulius Sparrow must die.

Winchester Barker

District 5 Female

Slowly I start to recognise my surroundings. The forest isn't as thick here and the thickets are more numerous. Larger boulders are starting to appear as I get further north. At first, I'm confused. Most of my journeying through the arena is like a blur, with little sticking to my memory.

Then I realize that I must have walked here before I became alone. I recognize this from the first day in the arena when my mind was still clear.

That means that I might stumble onto the river where he died.

The idea makes me uncomfortable. Hopefully, that won't happen. However, I have decided even if I find it, I won't freeze again. Instead, I will just keep moving forward.

As I move forward in the forest I realize this is a new feeling for me. My mind is free from burden, like it has been covered in dark cancer and has now shaken it off. I can note every birdsong and enjoy it without anxiety in the back of my mind constantly taking up space. There is no complexity I can worry about in moving forward. It's simply really. I just need to keep moving forward.

I feel a bit confused, to be honest. It's like stepping into a new world that I now have to try to navigate. Every sound, every step, and every breath feels different like it all can exist on their own. All my worries are still there, stuck in my mind telling me what could go wrong, but when I tell them I will just keep moving forward they have no answer.

My thoughts are interrupted by a roar followed by a scream. I freeze in place with my senses on high alert. What was that? It sounded like an animal, a big one at least. Together with some poor fellow in its path.

Boom.

That takes us down to four.

I immediately turn around and start moving in the opposite direction of the roar. Forward can be a lot of different directions in fact, like far, far away from whatever killed that tribute.

I don't want to think about the death I heard but never saw(allowing the imagination to fill in details makes it just worse). However, it does grant me some relief, which surprises even me. It means I'm almost out of here. I don't want to think about the finale and the fact that there are probably three careers left. I'll keep moving forward and see what happens.

For the first time, I allow myself to think over Wilson's death. It had been a taboo subject in my thoughts for a long time, the simple memory was enough for me to start feeling dizzy. But I think it's fine. As long as I keep moving forward, away from the past, I think it's okay.

I spare no thoughts about the boy I killed. First, because I don't have the energy to worry about my enemies, and second because I don't feel any sympathy to begin with. He didn't hesitate when he smashed a rock into Wilson's head, so why should I?

Now Wilson. I take a deep breath and simply… let him pass.

Don't get me wrong, he is still important to me. I am still grieving him. But moving forward means forward, and that includes leaving him behind. He's in the past, the unchangeable past that I can never change how much I try. Immediately regrets start bellowing up inside of me(if I didn't hesitate killing that kid he would still be alive) but I walk past it. Both figuratively and literally.

Indeed does walking help me with letting it pass. My legs are numb from how long I have been walking, but I am scared if I stop I will return to the way I was.

He was funny. Funniest guy I had ever known. Also sarcastic, which got on my nerves. And most importantly, Wilson was kind. I still remember that he said Willow was like a sister to him and I wonder who I was to him then? His big sister? Whatever it is, I walk past it. He was all of those things, but not anymore. He is dead now.

For a moment I let Willow into my heart. I did a much better job at preventing any attachment with her - which I completely failed with Wilson - so I was able to escape the worst of the sorrow. However, for now, I will miss her. Miss how the sunshine she was and how she was almost the glue that held us together. I let myself miss all that she was and then walk past her.

My heart still makes a knot when I think about them. However, my legs no longer freeze and my body doesn't drain itself of energy. I'm allowed to keep walking.

There is one person I can't walk past. It's Andrew, my father. Although he is not actually my father I no longer allow myself to see the distinction. I miss him, I miss him so much. I hadn't allowed myself to be too close to him, too scared that he would be repelled like my other parents, but I regret it now. I want to go back to him. I want to sit in his cabin, the one covered in wires, lamps, and all different machines that I never understood.

However, the only way to go back to him is by moving forward. To win the hunger games.

I'm ready now. All my instincts tell me I'm not, that I'm far too weak and have only made it this far because of luck. It might be true, but that's not what I focus on. Instead, I just think of moving forward, forward to the next moment, and solving the problems when they appear. If I die, so be it.

For me, the next step forward is the only thing that exists right now.

Blush Beaumont

District 1 Female

The bear will never leave me.

I can still hear it breathe over me, ready to tear me apart. However, it doesn't have the form of a large predator but a person. Remus, with his crossbow and just as dark, emotionless eyes. The Capitol, who can kill me with a single flick of a switch. And finally my father with his web of assassins and henchmen watching my every move.

I sigh, leaning back on the tree I have climbed up on. The bears won't be able to touch me up here(I hope at least) and I've allowed myself to rest.

When I first entered the games I didn't spare a thought of what would happen after I won. Win the games and take care of the new problems that appear after. It all seemed so simple when I volunteered: when I'm a victor, no one can touch me. Everyone in Victor's Village in One at least seemed untouchable. I would have wealth and influence that purely belonged to myself so that my father could never touch me.

But fatally I had forgotten the one rule that will be true no matter what I do: no one in the districts is untouchable. I didn't realize it until I met my mentor, Glass. She hated me for a good reason since I took their precious volunteer spot, but she was weak. She couldn't do anything to stop me and was forced to send me this shiny weapon. However, she could damage me like no one else could: she showed me how truly weak she was

I thought a lot about the conversation I had with her before I went into the arena - mostly right before I slept. What she said about victor prostitution is still in the back of my mind. Like a parasite I can't pull out.

The thought disgusts me to the very core. It makes my skin crawl and my blood boil. I would rather die, I thought when I first heard of it. However, I have reminded myself that if my answer to suffering would be taking my life the first chance I got I would be dead at this point. That doesn't mean I plan to fight my fate whenever I have the chance

That was the plan when I was ascending into the arena. Fight myself out of the games and then fight myself out whatever the Capitol wants.

For obvious reasons, this didn't work.

I should be dead. My last fight with Remus wasn't even close; I was saved by Emerald who was chasing after me. I am still breathing because of luck. For these past days I have been trying to convince myself that it wasn't luck but rather my incompetence. At least if I did something wrong then I can change it and become stronger. But what about the bear? Did I have any chance to beat the bear? Of course, I don't: it could kill me with a swing of its paw.

That is simply the truth. And what is also the truth is that I lost to Remus, no matter how many excuses I make.

If I can't beat Remus, how do I ever have a chance of escaping the Capitol?

The only thing I have left is to accept it. Accept that I'm not the strongest warrior in the arena, Remus is, and that the Capitol will control me whatever I do. Accept that I am trading one pair of chains for another. It should have been obvious when my fight against my father resulted in me running away to the games-

Such naivety to believe that control exists for someone like me.

I expected myself to feel relief. Like a burden that has been lifted off my shoulders. Or at least to make me focus on the task at hand and don't worry about what is out of my control.

But all I feel is frustration.

Obviously I'm not going to give up on killing Remus; that was never the plan. I plan to keep on fighting and more importantly: win. My new weapon will help me achieve this and so will the sharpening of my skills.

I'm not giving up my other fights too. There's a man in District 1 that needs to die after all, something that is still very much possible. I will resist the Capitol will all my might too, so they hopefully will leave me alone most of the time. All that I am doing is accepting that I can never truly get rid of them.

But even that makes me grit my teeth. A thought is bubbling in me wondering why I am even here. If there's truly no way for me to win, then what is the point?

But that is how a corspe thinks. I jump down from my tree. Useless thoughts distracting me from my true goal: winning the finale. Now that we are down to the final four the gamemakers should herd us together at any moment now. In this crucial moment, I need efficiency. And self-wallowing is bad for efficiency.

Especially because of what has happened with the moon. Three more red scars appeared on it last night. Whatever is happening, I know it can't be good.

My mind might not be clear, but my freedom is the last thing I need to worry about right now.

I have a Hunger Games to win.

Roark Pickett

District 2 Male

Maybe I'm allowed to think that he has lost me.

I'm breathing heavily, staring into the ground with my hands on my knees. The adrenaline that has fueled my body these two days is starting to recede, leaving my legs pulsing with pain. I'm not safe - I know that. I'm not safe anywhere in the arena, but maybe, just maybe, I've been spared this danger for now.

The forest is quiet. Not even the birds chatter anymore. I look up into the unending maze of trees. I think of myself hearing something behind me and I immediately snap around, my heart skipping a beat. Nothing. Just a bird that flies away spooked.

I breathe out, my senses on high alert. My stomach, probably sensing it is safe, starts crying for food. Water would work well too. My throat feels like it's made out of sand.

Carefully I start making my way forward. When I find food and water I can rest.

Still, I always keep an eye on my surroundings. I don't think I can ever sleep without one eye open again. Every breeze is the whistle of a throwing knife; every broken stick is a career stepping out of the shadows. Three times I thought I was safe and three times he found me. Of course I will get paranoid then! However, it was a long time since I last saw him. That is what gives me hope I'm okay for now.

"See anything to eat?" I mutter.

The forest obviously doesn't respond. For a second I'm confused, then I realise my mistake. Oh.

Everything these two days have been a blur. Not only the time I spent running and hiding in holes but also Ever's death. I can't remember his wide eyes in shock or the knife sticking out of his chest, despite knowing every detail of what happened. It all has merged into one; it's like waking up from a dream and trying to remember it.

It just happened so fast. I wasn't prepared. Probably wasn't Ever either. But then he was killed by that career and I had to run for my life. Simply thinking about him makes me choke up. I want to cry, to show myself that I miss him so much, but I can't force any tears out. Just a permanent state of shock.

If I show any weakness, he might appear again. And then the knives start whistling.

All I can hope is that the cannon from before was the career.

I wander aimlessly in the forest, slowly becoming more and more panicked. What do I do now? Find another shelter? But how? I was never particularly good at shelter building or finding food, to begin with. That's Ever's job. i just carried things. I sigh. Ever would know what to do.

As if he grants me a favor from the afterlife I can hear a river running close by. Yes! I try to smile, my face is too tired to make any emotions. Instead my legs start automatically carry me towards the noise.

But nothing prepares me for when I find the river.

It's that river. The river where it happened. I recognize it like it was yesterday. The rocky riverbank, the small water stream, and the large smooth boulders. Just a week ago, this is where Ever almost died, where the boy from Eleven held him down and tried to convince his district partner to finish the job. When I could do nothing but cry as I watched my ally die. All the blood when that same boy was killed and the girl started violently hacking the killer. So much blood.

I fall on my knees as I get overwhelmed. The moment felt like it was forever ago, yet I remember it so clearly. We were only two days away from the start of the games. Sixteen people still lived back then and the end of the journey seemed so far away. We were just two young boys with no expectations and trying their best.

Now it's just me and there are only four people left.

A tingle throws me out of my thoughts. Stunned, I look up at the silver parachute slowly making its way down to me. I don't understand. Who would even want to sponsor me? Especially this late in the game?

With shaking hands, I open the package. For a moment I'm worried that this is just a joke. Maybe they pity me so much they want to tease me.

I recognize the contents immediately.

The two pieces with pork have been grilled until it's almost burnt. The small cauldron of soup that smells like sugar and potatoes. Lots of hardtack, grainy hardtack that almost hurts to eat. It's a small feast, but that's not what is important.

This is from District 2. I remember hurryingly gnawing on the hardtack to breakfast when I was late to school. I remember the soup on the dinner table together with Mom and Dad, when they were still together, late in the evening. I remember when we celebrated our cousins' peacekeeper graduation and we all ate the pork, like all the other families in Two did. These are all the most traditional dishes from Two, the ones I have eaten my entire life.

Then I notice the piece of paper lying between the food. I'm almost too afraid to read what it says, but I open it.

We all stand behind you.

I can't do this anymore. Finally, I break down in tears.

I thought they hated me. I'm weak and can't fight. I ran as soon as I saw another tribute. I cry at way too dumb stuff. I thought that whenever I appeared on the screen they turned off the TV, too ashamed to even watch me. When I got a 5 in my private session I saw them all laughing at me at home. Even if they all hated Casey, I assumed they all secretly wished she would bring some glory at least home. When she died I believed that's when District 2 lost their interest in the games.

But a gift this expensive? There must have been a lot of people who pooled their money together. A lot.

"Thank you. Thank you," is all I can choke out between the sobbing. I don't care if they did this because they pity me, because they care.

Because of course they do. Dad cares about me; he always did. Even if Mom always pressured me to train she still cried when Dad got custody over me. Grant who would shout to me whenever I passed the Academy.

And Nero too, who would defend me no matter what. I remember Karien, my mathematics teacher, and his approving nod whenever I finally got an A on the test. Mrs and Mr Ulysses, the couple who lived with their grandkids, who asked me on my day whenever I passed their yard and I was always too shy to tell the truth. Jinjy and Mie too. Whenever Nero dragged me with them they always welcomed me.

I want to go back to District 2 so much that it hurts.

I try to eat a piece of the hardtack, but I barely get a bite in before I start crying even harder. Why am I even here? I'm not supposed to participate in the games, Invictus is. No one is supposed to be reaped from District 2. I'm supposed to be safe. Why did I have to be reaped this year, and why did the rebels have to attack now? Why, why, why couldn't they have left me in peace?

I can't fight. I'm useless. The reason I'm in the finale is because of luck. Everyone knows that. All the other tributes, even the scrawny girl from Five, can break me in two if they want to.

How am I supposed to win a finale? Run around until they get tired and give up? Hide until they starve? And I'm not sure that would even work; Ever wouldn't be there to tell me what is safe to eat. It's actually Ever who deserves to be here, not me. He kept us both alive, even when he was tormented by trauma, not me. He was far stronger than I ever was.

What have I even done so far? Am I not the same scared kid that almost pissed his pants entering the arena? Everyone else left is probably hardened killers and then there's me. I don't belong here.

I don't wanna die, so I can't give up. Especially not when all of District 2 are rooting for me. But what am I supposed to do? Please, someone tell me, what the hell am I supposed to do? Give me a formula, give me a checklist, give me anything that will help me. I'm willing to get on my knees and beg for mercy if that's what it takes. I just don't wanna die.

The finale is tomorrow and I don't know what to do.

5th: Alexi Atwater, District 4 Male, eaten by a brown bear.

The Finale approaches…