Silence has always been present in my house, but this silence is different; it’s deadly silence. I have been resting in my shelter, awaiting the sound of death; a cannon. If a cannon sounds, then there is a tribute out there still killing. All morning, nothing. All afternoon, nothing. All night nothing. Where is everybody? I need to know. Do I continue to slaughter? Do I try and find a hovercraft to take me home? Think, what do victors usually do when they win. Overcome by my own thoughts, I decide to lie down and clear my mind.
I wake up several hours later in a daze. Confused as to what just happen, I remember that I may be the last one alive. Overcome by joy, I leap up from my mat of vines and begin to jump from joy. I am the Winner of the 80th Hunger Games! Joy oh Joy! My Mother will be so proud of me. I promised her before I came out to these Games that I would do anything in my power to come back to her. I finally fulfilled that promise. Everyone in District 4 will be so glad to see that I am the victor of the 80th Hunger Games. All my friends will be so glad. I cannot wait to go back home to my loved ones! I AM the victor right? Shouldn’t there be some sort of hovercraft to take me out by now? Taking me back to the warm arms of my Mother, the place I call home. District 4, where I have trained so long and hard for this moment. I wait and wait, but still nothing. Panic begins to take me over again and I realize that I may NOT be the lone survivor, maybe there is still one more person out there. I am so sure that I heard all 26 canons. The only one left to be heard is mine, but there isn’t anyone here to give me that fate. I start to think maybe I miscounted the canons. If there is still someone out there keeping me from finally getting out of this nightmare then I am going to find them. No matter what. With determination in my eyes, I leap of the ground and cross the beach in search of the last weasel left.
As I rub my eyes, I look up at the blazing sun; its rays piercing fictional holes in my fragile skin. Slowly, I get up from my mat of tangles, creepers, and vines and walk over to my newest formed ally, Tom. We embrace and I rest my head on his shoulder as both our minds wonder off, thinking of home, thinking of the Games, but most importantly, thinking of staying alive. We finally release and smile at each other. I say, “Tom, what if we are the last two left? What will we do then?” His warm caramel eyes drop to the ground before he faintly answers, “Then you win.” I go silent at the thought of having to kill Tom. A long moment of silence passes before I answer, “No, I don’t care what happens, Tom. We are both going to win, or the Gamemakers won’t have a victor this year.” He smiles at my mischievousness and with a smirk says, “Deal.”
I am sitting on a hard fallen trunk, sharpening a wooden spear with my knife. I notice a small paper clip sized frog hop carelessly across my feet. I smile at the sight of how beautiful and innocent the frog looks, bright blue skin, glittering in the sunlight. I call Tom over to show him this small precious frog and then notice about 200 more hop out of the underbrush. Startled by this, I jump up on top of the tree trunk. These minuscule creatures that I once thought were cute now look devious and spine-tingling. Tom comes running in from the tangle of vines and sees me standing a top this trunk, shivering in fear. Slowly, he walks towards me, trying not to startle the swarm of deadly creatures. He reaches me and grabs hold of my hand slowly bringing me down. Whispering into my ear, he says, “These are Poison Dart Frogs, highly toxic. They have enough venom to kill 10 grown men. Don’t be startled, we just need to slowly walk away from them okay? Follow me.” My heart racing, I slowly follow Tom, the branches loudly cracking under my feet. I cringe every time I step on a twig, in fear that I triggered the frogs to chase after us. My fear over-coming me, I don’t notice a large branch and a huge crunch startles the frogs. All of a sudden, 200 creatures begin to chase after us. Tom grabs me by the hand and we dart to the right crashing through the tumble of vines and branches. Sprinting down to the beach, I trip and fall, rolling down the hill. Tom tries to catch me but fails. Branches slice my raw flesh. I reach the bottom in a heap and slowly get up, wiping myself down. I take a seat on the cold ground and notice one of the little monsters crawling up my leg; its slimy webs for hands sending a tingle up my body. I bite my hand to stop me from screaming. This is the end, I’m about to die from a frog. A puny little frog, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.
As I lifted myself off the hard ground I heard a roar coming from the beach. I could hear the waves crashing furiously. Startled and awakened by this, I climbed up the tall tree next to me and saw a humungous wave, probably 30ft high, hurtling towards me. Without a second to think, I dropped down from the tree, grabbed my pack, and sprinted off into the other direction. Forcing all my fear down, I sprinted through the tangle of vines and creepers. I kept glancing back to see if the wave had crashed but for some odd reason it just kept getting bigger and bigger. I pushed with all my might, trying to get away from this never ending wave of doom. Finally I remembered that this whole arena was fake, and that the Gamemakers were the ones controlling the wave, not the ocean. With my mind focused on this I didn’t realize that there was large vine, and I tripped and fell. My leg got caught in the creepers and the wave crashed onto me, smacking my entire body.
Pain flashed across my body, like I had just been stabbed a hundred times. Water filled my lungs, causing me to panic. The pressure of the hit threw me up against a tree, my spine ached. With my last breath of oxygen, I pictured my Mother, and how much I would miss her. With the strong scent of the salt water filling my nostrils, and water engulfing my lungs, I blacked out.
My eyes fluttered open and a ray of sunlight blinded me. Trying to stand, searing pain shot up my back and I relaxed back down onto the soft warm sand. Coughing, I looked up to see a boy sitting on the rock next to me. I recognized him as the boy from District 11. He noticed my coughing and let a small smile crack across his face, “You know, you almost died out there in the tsunami, I saw you and pulled you out. Your back is pretty banged up though.” I smiled at him and said, “Thank you for saving my life, I owe you one. I’m J.K. Notrowling” The boy took my outstretched hand and replied “Nice to meet you, I’m Tom.”
Right when I was losing all hope in myself, when all my determination had been lost, a small silver parachute sank down onto my lap from nowhere. Startled, I sat up from the bed of my rock and pondered at what had just fallen onto my lap. Inside, there was a note tied to a small video camera saying “You may send a message to any one of your family members through this camera, enjoy.” Tears filled my eyes at the thought of how much I missed my Mother. She was all I had left in my family, after my father and brother both died of disease when it hit hard in District Four, ten years ago. I was only 6 at the time and had no idea what happened to my family. All I knew was that my Mother was all I had left. This message was going to be for her.
I could hear the fire crackle through the groans of distant animals. To my knowledge, there was no one within a 100 yard radius of me, since I previously scoped out my camp site for the night. I chose a small clearing within the twines of creepers and underbrush. At this clearing I set up my camp, fire crackling in the middle, equipment off to the side, and a large rock crested in between where I would sleep for the night. I had previously speared a small hog, which was roasting above the fire. My hunger had reached its brim and the sweet smell of the pig’s juices filled the air. I couldn’t help but lick my lips as I slowly took the hog away from the fire and cut a large meaty piece off. It’s soft, warm tenderness was like a pillow to my teeth. I must have been really hungry from the day’s hike; I devoured the entire thing with 10 minutes, like a lion when eating a gazelle. Wiping the delicious grease off my cheek, I settled myself atop the large rock for the night. I was surprisingly calm, not a worry in my mind. These tributes would have to be very resilient if they wanted to stop me from winning these Games. Nothing was going to stop me from fulfilling my destiny.
My eyelids were beginning to become too heavy for me when a bright screen appeared across the sky and woke me from my daze. The faces of 10 fallen tributes appeared, one after another. Dim music played as the ten tributes were recognized, six of which I had given such a fate to. None of them were from my District though, which I suppose was a good thing. Guilt slowly began to envelope my mind when I remembered the promise I made to my mother, before leaving District 4; No matter what, I would come back home. No matter what it took, I would win the games for my family, and for my District. Even if it meant killing innocent people. The music dimmed away and there was an odd silence within the forest. So silent I could hear my heart beat against my chest, like a never ending metronome. The silence was broken by the chirping of birds and groan of distant animals. Oddly, I wasn’t startled by this, this feeling of loneliness within the vast jungle. I suppose the thirst for victory was too strong, and so I let my mind drift off on its own, until I found myself engulfed in a deep, deep, sleep.
MY whole body tingled with excitement as the enclosed capsule raised me up to what would be the start of an amazing adventure. I heard the ticking begin, counting down “60, 59, 58…” There was a slight jolt as the capsule stopped and exposed me to this subtropical highland. A humid breeze sent tingles through my skin as I excitedly looked around at the wimps next to me. There was a large circle of capsules, equidistant from the large cornucopia ahead. I recognized a small red faced girl, Juanita Plumcat. She was quick and agile; I knew I had to take her out first.
A huge cornucopia sat in the middle of all the capsules where I noticed there to be a mountain of resources, like weapons, food, and most importantly; a fire starting kit. I formulated a plan within those 20 seconds remaining: I was going to sprint to the cornucopia and grab the bow and arrow. Anyone that tried to get to me would be shot. The clock rang “10, 9, 8…” I readied myself for the most important moment of my life. I was ready for this; everything I trained for, all the sweat and tears would be for this moment. “3, 2, and 1” I leaped out of my capsule and sprinted towards the cornucopia, determination in my eyes. I slid across the platform and onto the weapon stash, wear I grabbed the bow and set of 20 titanium arrows. A small boy was running up the side to me, I shot an arrow at him and bam, right in the stomach. Two more tried to reach me but I stopped them in their tracks. No one would get up to my platform.
ABOUT three quarters of the tributes ran off into the woods. 3 others were stunned, still on their capsules. I shot all three and went out to retrieve my arrows. 6, I had already killed six and I would kill more if I had to, to win the games. Sweat streamed down my forehead and my hair was painted across my face. Slowly I ran my hand through my hair and walked back over to the cornucopia. There was a back pack full of survival equipment like a fire starter, bottle of fresh water, rope, twine, and a knife. There was also a pack of throwing knives, and 3 spears. I placed the knives inside the survival pack and threw it across my back. With both the bow and spear in hand I began working my way up through the underbrush. A huge volcano burrowed its way into the sky ahead. I worked my way up to it, and decided to walk about 3 miles before setting up camp for the night. I finally reached 3 miles after a long and tiring hike up the tangles of vines and creepers. My heart was pounding; I set down my equipment, and brushed the sweat off my forehead. With a fire already started and a piece of rabbit meat (which I earlier cached) cooking on my spear I laid my back against a rock. I was ready to do anything to win these Games for my District, anything. Let the Games begin.
The anticipation was killing me, as I stood at the door waiting for it to open, summoning me to the Gamemakers. I had to show them my skills to receive a high score. I knew today would be the most important day of this whole preparation period before the games were to finally start. Howard, our District’s mentor who had once already won the games, told me to show everything I can. To impress the Gamemakers, I had to be different. I knew exactly what I was going to do to blow them away. Right as my anticipation was reaching its peak, the huge titanium double doors slid open and a woman wearing a black uniform gestured for me to walk in. I took a step into the large room, there were all kinds of tools, weapons, and equipment scattering across the room. Five Gamemakers sat up in a balcony above the arena. One called out from above me, “J.K. Notrowling you may begin.”
I had approximately 30 minutes to show these Gamemakers everything I had, and I wasn’t about to disappoint these five men. I beamed straight for the knives. Quickly grabbing five of them, I threw each one across the 20 foot stretch straight onto the red bull’s-eye painted onto the lifeless dummy. The Gamemakers sat up in their seats in sight of my precision. I then walked over to the obstacle course flipping and twining through the entire course in less than 3 minutes. By this point the Gamemakers were on the edges of their seats. But the show wasn’t quite over yet.
I dived into the practice pool and began to swim lap after lap, I finished about 20 within 5 minutes. My breaths were heavy but slowed very quickly as I hopped out and quickly dried myself off for my last performance. With about 5 minutes left, I trotted over to the bow and arrow and turned on the fighting simulation. I had to show these Gamemakers I was capable of everything. The figures began appearing and I shot every single one without a single miss, like a lion pounces on a gazelle, not thinking about it, not hesitating, just doing it. Sweat streamed down my forehead as I walked off the simulation platform. I brushed the hair out of my eyes and looked up at the Gamemakers. To my astonishment they were on their feet clapping. I looked timidly down at my feet, smiling. The woman in the black uniform returned and directed me out. When i looked back, I noticed one of the Gamemakers wink at me. Wow, just wow. I couldn’t believe I did that. A few hours later, they revealed the scores. I had scored highest out of all twenty-four tributes. An enormous ten out of ten! I have a feeling I will win this year, nothing can stand in my way of becoming this year’s victor. Nothing.
It was an exciting day for district four. All of us, the 12 year olds to 18 year olds were buzzing excitedly in a large room. My hands were sweaty from the anticipation as I strutted over to my seat in wait for the reaping to begin. As a career district, all children from District Four are trained for the hunger games from age 8 to age 18. I for one have scored top of my class for girls ever since I was 8 years old. Jittering in my seat, a girl came and sat in the seat right next to mine and didn’t say a word. I smiled at her but she looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. I suppose she wasn’t as excited as I was, because when I asked her how excited she was she said, “How dare you be excited about this, we are about to choose 2 children to go kill other children. How do you find this exciting?” I guess she was right, but Panem had a reason for doing it. To show that rebellion shall never happen again, and I was ready to kill for the cause.
Harper Haney slowly walked across the enormous front stage. She is District Four’s tribute selector. Two bowls lay across a wide table, one filled with boy names, another with girls’. They were like fish cramped into a small pond and Harper’s hand was the fish hook. She began with a long speech about the Hunger Games and why we have them every year. Many officials came up and said a few words before the reaping was about to finally begin. I twiddled my hands and tapped my feet like a little boy trying to fall asleep on Christmas Eve in wait for her to pull the name of the one lucky girl and one lucky boy who would be able to fight for District Four. She stuck her long slender fingers into the boy’s bowl and took three swings inside before plucking a name out. She slowly and articulately read “John Abernathy.” A tall muscular boy leaped up and the crowd roared. He ran down the aisle and jumped up onto the stage. A smile spread across his face when Harper put the tribute pin on his flannel.
Up next was the girls. This was my moment. Harper smiled as she strut across the stage, she slowly dunked her hand into the enormous sea of names, and plucked one right out. I shook from anticipation as I heard her utter two words which I will never forget, “J.K. Notrowling.” I leaped out of my seat and an enormous thunder of claps and roars up rose and shook the entire building. As I galloped up to the podium in great ambition and dignity, I knew that I would finally be able to represent my District, and win the Hunger Games. This was my moment, and no one would ever be able to take that from me.