SUZANNE COLLINS OWNS THE HUNGER GAMES NOT ME! I AM JUST A CRAZED FAN!

Galaxi Statical, Capitol Citizen

I stand nervously in the crowd, awaiting the twist for this year's Quarter Quell. Surely it couldn't beat the last twist? I think back to the words spoken by President Wolf 25 years ago. I wasn't there in person but over the past few weeks they've played multiple re-runs of previous Quells so I got a chance to watch it.

"As a reminder to the rebels that they choose who they send to war, the Capitol and District citizens shall vote for who they want to eliminate from the games, thus eliminating them from life."

The Bloodbath still played out and the tributes could still kill one another, but once a day somebody was evicted.

I continue to stand in the City Circle, my turquoise hair fluttering in the breeze and goosebumps cover my rose pink body. I run my tongue over my slightly chapped lips and reach into my handbag for some chapstick. I caress the item with my nimble fingers and the shock of our anthem blaring through the speakers causes me to drop the chapstick.

"Oh goodness!" I cry and carefully lean over, careful not to stain my brand new dress.

Just as my fingers embrace the small container, somebody thumps me and I go tumbling into the ground.

My knees skid across the smooth tiles and I throw my hands out in front of me. My wrist lands at an odd angle and my screaming radiates through my ears. I let out a squeill of pain loud enough to wake half the Districts and everyone within a 50ft radius stares in my direction.

I shakily get up and examine my dress. The light purple is smudged with shades of brown thanks to the dirt. A rip the size of my arm is visible across my knees and I would bet any amount of money my wrist is sprained! The last verse of "Horn of Plenty" rings out through the crowd as I push my way through the crowd. No way am I going to be seen like this! TV cameras swarm the place, all of them hoping to get a glimpse of the President standing high and mighty on his podium.

I'm running through the back alley of my apartment when I'm greeted by a homeless man, waving an empty cup in my face.

"Money! Give it to me you colourful bimbo!" He shouts in frustration.

Flies zoom around him and the smell of stale urine invades my nostrils. I scream in fear and make my way around him, my heels causing me to trip repetitively. I notice he's not that far behind me so I tear off my black, 6 inch heels and hurl it in his direction. Oh well, they were getting quite worn down. I hear a shout of pain and I know I hit him, hopefully damaging something.

Eventually I make it home and quickly flick on the TV, just in time to catch a playback of the grisly looking President addressing the crowd.

"Welcome citizens of Panem! Today we gather by the thousands to remember a terrible time in our history. It was this day, 225 years ago that the rebels laid down their guns and surrendered to the Capitol. And now as punishment, we take 26 of their children and make them fight to the death. Each 25 years there is a glorified games consisting of a twist. We now celebrate the 9th Quarter Quell, a glorius twist it is sure to be!"

A small boy hops onto the podium with a mahogany box resting in his hands. He is dressed in complete white and has a sailors hat atop his dirty blonde hair. The presidents hand wavers over the envelope marked 225 and he plucks it from the cushion it rested on. He opens it carefully, the yellowed edges threatening the snap with the lightest touch.

"Now, for the 225th Hunger Games. These games are to show the rebels that not even the strongest bonds can escape the Capitol."

Everyone in the crowd looks confused but the president continuas to smile that evil grin of his and swaggers back into his mansion, obviously happy with himself.

I know, I know. I've changed this twist a lot of times but THIS IS IT! It will all make sense in the end dont worry. Oh yeah, May the odds be ever in your favour!