Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

Note: Here we are, the start of another timeline! Due to how Bloodline Betrayal has taken a while to reach the Arena stage of the story, and how there has been a desire to see the next Lead of the series make their official debut, I decided why not go ahead and submit chapter one? Much like when Sickle made her debut as a lead, it's just going to be chapter one up until Bloodline Betrayal has been finished, but I think this one's a pretty strong opener. So, are you all ready to say hello to the elegant and spoiled Mayor's Daughter from District Seven? If you clicked on this story I am gonna assume the answer is yes, heheheh, so read on and enjoy!

It's a forest that I see once the pedestal has risen, but it's not filling me with any confidence. Sure, District Seven is known for Lumber and many deep, expansive forests, but I was never really a lumberjack. I didn't work in the trees or with an axe. I… never really worked a day in my life. I was less the 'girl with the axe' and more the 'pampered girl who relaxes at home'. I can see from where I am standing that Wood has a sudden look of immense hope on his face as he gazes around the clearing. At least one of us is feeling cheerful. I bet I look a little green, if any cameras are focusing on me.

Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I? Nettle Bonsai of District Seven. The mayor's daughter. Charmed… but with the situation I'm in right now, any charm is long gone. I'm sixteen and my name was only in the reaping bowl five times. I was as safe as I could possibly be at my age, but I got my name picked and nobody stood in place of me. What does it matter to them if the spoiled Mayor's daughter has to get her hands dirty? It matters little, or maybe less than that. Now, I'm in the Hunger Games. Just one rule here, outlive twenty three other kids and you can go home… that, or you die.

I'm never getting out of here… I'm never getting out! This forest is gonna be my grave! I'm trying not to cry, I'm trying to keep it together. I need to act my age, show some kind of firmness. That girl from Three cried a lot, but she's thirteen. I'm older, and therefore I should be stronger. But as my Mentor said to me, I'm weak and spoiled… she said I'm gonna face reality and how hard life is.

Johanna told me I have no chance and thus she didn't bother to help a 'lost cause'. I tried to prove her wrong with my training. I really did. In the end I scored a 6 and my odds were 7-1. I didn't think this was bad, but Johanna just pointed to that curly haired boy from Four who got a higher score despite his young age. It's hopeless, she told me. Just die early and get it over with, she told me.

I may have been spoiled all of my life, but I'm a lady. And… a lady does not take the coward's way out! I must try to win, and get out of here. Or… well, literally die trying. But, what do I do? What do I do?!

...What do I do…?

My breath is very shaky, my chest tight and my stomach feeling a horrible sort of queasy. I grip my braids tightly, trying not to scream or sob. That'd only prove everybody right. Not that there is much to prove. I'm spoiled and a bit of a snob. I don't deny it.

But, I'm not just those things. I'm alive as well. And it's all in my own hands to make sure that won't change. It's all on me. Nobody else. I don't expect much in the way of sponsors after all. Not with how the pair from Twelve basically stole the show. If I were watching them I'd have cheered on their romance… being here though, I only felt even less hope, and missed my own lover even more. Oh, Ranger…

The pounding of the countdown clock begins. For one minute, just one precious minute I am safe. No longer than that. The Cornucopia is right in front of me, full of all the gear I could ever need. Issue is, most of the other Tributes are going to want it as well… enough to kill. I look to my left and I can see a few of the others already preparing themselves to run in. The boy from Two looks deadly, and the boy from One even moreso. Marvel, his name I have no issues remembering. He was very clear about just how badly he was gonna cut me to pieces in the Arena. To my right I see the Boy from Twelve, Peeta. He seems a strange sort of calm. Beyond him, I can see that huge boy from Eleven is clenching his fists in determination and at the furthest end of the line the Girl from Nine looks fiery and ready to begin.

Do I risk it? Do I run in to grab some supplies, or do I just run away and try to hide in the forest and hope nobody catches me before I can… do something? Not sure what the something is, but the best way to not die in the Bloodbath is to run away from it. Common sense, really.

No, I need to run in. I'm spoiled and pampered, that's what Johanna said. She's a Victor… I know she's right. I won't survive without any supplies. Not that she expects me to survive anyway, but with a hatchet, or some water or even just a loaf of bread, then maybe…

30 seconds…

Will Wood help me? We're from the same District and killing your own District Partner is not something anybody approves of, but he did want to be coached separately. Not that I was really coached at all. If he lives past day one then I might be able to talk to him, but he's not required to help me. He was rather distant in training. Jason from Six, he was sweet though. Suffering, but sweet. I think he could have my back for a few days.

15 seconds…

Whatever happens, I have to avoid the Careers. Marvel most of all. The look in his eyes as he talked of killing me, and then said my 'freckles were cute'… I'd never felt more violated in my entire life! I feel sicker now, thinking about that. Breath Nettle, happy thoughts. Not that they will change the situation I'm in.

One last thought of my kettle collection doesn't help.

10 seconds…

I'm going to die.

9 seconds…

I'm about to die.

8 seconds…

I'm dead, I'm dead!

7 seconds…

I'm too spoiled to survive!

6 seconds…

I wish I could have done more to patch up things with my dad. We were so distant, hardly a family.

5 seconds…

But Ranger. He believed in me. I saw in his eyes he was being sincere.

4 seconds…

He told me my victory was as sure as his love for me.

3 seconds…

I trust him. I think of this trust as I ready myself to run.

2 seconds…

If I'm gonna die, then let me die having made an effort and worked for a chance to live, rather than die doing nothing.

1 second…

"Axe no questions, tell no lies," I say. It's the District Seven motto. The District I will one day lead… if I don't get killed first.

A loud horn rings out across the Arena, and it begins.

Desperation filling me up already, I charge towards the Cornucopia and the supplies littering the area around it. Most of the tributes do the same. I don't check for who is fleeing though. They don't matter now. What matters is grabbing supplies and then running for my life!

A scream filling the air makes me cease my sprint. Screeching to a halt I glance back. I only see Marvel killing that strong boy from Eight with a kukri for a split second before I cry out, somebody crashing right into me. I cast one look at the fallen Girl from Four clutching her ankle before I'm scrambling forwards again. As I hear a scream and somebody else drop dead I know I have made the ultimate mistake.

I should have run away.

"Come on, come on!" I mutter to myself, trying to will myself to get up and get moving.

I'm on my feet. Tributes are around me and none of them are killing me, yet. What am I doing?! Why am I still running to the Cornucopia!? Somebody screams somewhere beside me and an instant later a splatter of warm, sticky blood covers the back of my neck. Whose blood is it?! ...Not my own, and that's the main thing. Still unharmed, still alive.

I scream as I fall forwards, roughly hitting the ground. I don't know if I was punched or somebody just crashed into me, but I'm laying face down on the ground right in front of the Cornucopia. All of the best gear surrounds me, easily in reach. But if I grab it, my pampered and smooth hands are sure to become bloody. Just like my guts will be. The shouts and screams fill my ears, with footsteps everywhere.

It's hard work, trying not to vomit in pure panic. It's so… hard…

Vomit covers the ground around my face, some of it on me. But with all the people running around me, fighting and screaming, I don't dare move. Lying still with blood on my neck and vomit on my face, I try not to wail. It's hard. So hard! So horribly hard! My heart pounds like it may burst, and my throat burns from how sickly I'm feeling.

I'm too spoiled to survive, I can't help but think. No! I can't think like that! I may be spoiled, but that's a good thing too. I've never gone hungry and I'm a healthy weight for my small size. I can do this, I can do this. I can't let myself give up. The moment you lose hope, you die. Happens to Tributes every year. Tributes who had lived rougher lives than me.

I barely hold back a scream as a jolt of pain enters my side. Somebody must have tripped over me. I shut my eyes tighter when I hear the sound of a young boy screaming near me and then an older tribute screaming even louder as a cheer of triumph follows. Despite the scent of blood and my own fear I remain laying still where I am, ignored by all. Wait, do people think I am actually dead?

…

...They do. They must. With the blood on my neck and no way to know if it's really mine, they're assuming somebody else must have killed me and are focusing on each other. Johanna said to just die early… well, then that is what I will do. I'm just not dying permanently.

The pain in my throat and my hip, it's hard to ignore. How can I stay silent when I wish to scream, to cry, to wail? ...Because if I don't, then I am dead. Breath Nettle, be still and wait it out. Like watching a tree grow, be patient.

Time passes with me laying still as a statue, not daring to move. I hardly dare to take silent breaths, in fear anything might give me away. One little sound or twitch, and it's a spear in my back. Or a sword, or knife, or arrow, or a mace to the skull or…

...No. No more of that. No more.

I think of Ranger and of the life we could have together back in Seven, I think of my younger years when me and dad used to be close. I think of how I wish to be Mayor one day and to make the District a better place than ever. Any kind of happy thought to keep me from focusing on the sounds of all the bloody carnage, and to stop the rising urge to scream.

I'm not sure how long it's been before it stops. Most likely a few minutes, but it feels like hours. Just like at home where I'd sit and watch the grand wooden clock tick and tick, on and on. But here, I'm not being lazy. I'm trying to stay alive. It's a few moments before I know for sure that the Bloodbath is over. Maybe it's the lack of screaming and panic around me. Perhaps it's the absence of weapons clashing or footsteps thundering.

Or maybe it's just the cheering of a few individuals near me.

Of course. The Careers. Those who train for the Games all their lives and then hunt the rest of us down like rats, winning most of the time. I can only hope this will not be one of those years. If I stay quiet though, perhaps I could learn something. Even if I don't, being quiet will keep me alive.

I can't help frowning at their cheering, no matter how snooty it might make me look – even with the vomit on my face – or how it changes nothing. The fact remains that, for all their bloodlust and how they enjoy the sport and the so called glory of the Games and of victory… they are essentially playing with training wheels on. To me, it's like they are afraid of all the 'outliers' and only feel any kind of confidence or bravery when they have a ridiculously unfair advantage. Essentially, their many 'Great Victors' are cheaters, not true winners.

Then again, maybe I'm biased because I got yanked out of my home and now lay here feeling sore and caked in blood and vomit.

"Alright, that was awesome!" cheers a voice. I know this to be Marvel.

"The best part of the whole Games, besides winning," the other Career boy says with a snicker. I think he was called Cato.

"No, this part is better. When you win, the killing stops," says a more feminine voice. A very cold one. Was this girl Clove?

"So, how many did we kill?" Cato asks. "Shame we didn't beat the record, but there's enough meat here to fill a butcher shop."

"Let's just wait for the cannons," says the other female. Glimmer, that was her name. Spoiled like me, but perhaps with more thirst for blood. "It's music to my ears, hearing those."

"She's right. Why count the bodies when we could be grabbing sharp knives?" Clove asks.

I don't dare breath as Clove walks up to me and swiftly past me. I force myself to breath short and slow breaths. I can't give myself away. Not while these four are here. I force myself to be still. I can't shiver or tremble, no matter my fear. But when the other three come on over, it gets harder.

I'm dead, I'm dead…

"This sword is perfect. Sharp, long… I can't wait to get killing with this," Cato says. I don't have to look at him to know his expression must be sadistic.

"This spear is better. Sharper, and longer." Marvel says. "Girls like a guy with a spear."

"Piss off man, they like a guy with a sword better," Cato replies.

"What do you girls prefer, boys with spears or boys with swords?" Marvel asks.

...Really Marvel? Really Cato? Are you making those kinds of jokes in here of all places? If I wasn't laying face down and trying to be still so I won't be murdered, I'd shake my head.

"Heh. Boys," I hear Glimmer say. "...Swords."

"See Marvel?" Cato says smugly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Marvel replies. "So how much longer before we gear up and go hunting for the fodder?"

"Until the cannons fire. I hope it's soon… I've not stabbed enough people yet," Clove says, icily.

A cannon fires loudly, no doubt able to be heard from any part of the Arena. A second cannon follows it, just as loud and with the same note of finality. A third cannon follows after it, sounding much the same.

On and on the cannons fire until everything is silent, with only the distant sounds of birds left to hear. That was nine cannons that fired. Nine dead kids lay around me, not that I can see them from where I am. I wonder which tributes are dead, specifically. Some of them I didn't expect to last long, but can I judge when both myself and my 'Mentor' thought I'd die here and then be a tenth cannon to the list? I suppose I can't.

"Alright!" Marvel cheers. "Nine dead! Up top Cato!"

I hear a smack of a high five and two loud laughs from the Career boys.

"So, we gotta move for the hovercraft to collect the bodies of these nobodies, right?" Gimmer asks.

I freeze. Well, I was already frozen and immobile, but my insides just felt icy. The Hovercraft will collect the dead bodies.

I'm not dead.

They'll know!

I almost vomit, so very nearly dooming myself. All I can do is lay completely still and pray for some kind of a miracle, as if such things existed.

"Nah, we gave them a good show," Cato replies. "Let them get some good camera shots of the corpses. We'll take inventory and get everything we need sorted out for the hunt. Once we leave they can get them. The bodies ain't going anywhere."

"Not with those bloody wounds they won't be," Clove notes.

Clove walks near me. Right past me. A moment later a fleshy sound fills the air.

"Clove, what the hell was that?" Glimmer asks, sounding weirded out.

"This one didn't join us when we asked him to. Just felt like making my point," Clove says.

The Careers continue to mill around, working together to gather what they need. They comment on the good stuff, tell each other what they find and where to put it and talk about what their favourite murder so far is. All while I lay here, their unknown eavesdropper.

My only chance is that they do not decide to let the Hovercraft come in after all, and that they do not think to count the bodies and compare them to the number of cannons. If either of those things happen…

No, I refuse to think about it. I refuse! ...What good will it do, making me so scared that I scream, and die anyway? They can't stay here forever, they'll leave to hunt down the other ten tributes soon enough, I'm sure.

...Right?

(Several hours later…)

I was wrong. They are not leaving. They're still here, and I'm not sure how long it'll be until they decide to go. Or, maybe they won't go? They'll just stay here and maybe decide to wait until tomorrow to start hunting. That'd get me killed. I wish I knew what the time was, but I'm face down and with my eyes closed. If I move my head up, they could see me and… well, I know what'd come next.

By now, they've taken inventory on most of the stuff at the Cornucopia. All four of the Careers have grabbed the very best weapons and are holding them right now. I don't need to see this to know it, because I can hear them practising with them. Marvel and Cato have just finished what I think was a sparring session and both high five.

"You're good," Cato says. "Exactly what we need for this group."

"You know it," Marvel says. "I'm number One, just like home. Ha!"

"Just remember, you got a 9 and I got a 10," Cato says, chuckling in a way most cocky. "Ok, the sun is probably gonna start setting in an hour or so. I think it's time we gear up and set off. We'll come back in the morning, hopefully after at least two kills."

"Any reason we're hunting in the dark and not the light," Glimmer asks. "It'll be harder to find people."

"Maybe so, but they'll have a harder time getting away and we might catch them sleeping. Besides we have two pairs of night vision glasses here, and some flashlights too. The odds are in our favour," Cato states. "Right Clove?"

"Exactly," the other tribute from Two says. "Now, can we just go already? I don't care who we find or what we pack, I just want to kill somebody! I've not stabbed somebody in almost five hours now and I'm starting to get annoyed about it!"

"Easy there," Cato says, sounding a little amused. "We're going, don't you worry. You'll be able to cut somebody up and eat their heart soon."

"Like, ew," Gimmer says.

I hear footsteps coming near me. They stop.

I'm trying not to shake. Somebody is right next to me.

"Shame I couldn't kill this one," Marvel says. "I told her exactly what I was gonna do. Which of you stole my kill?"

The other three Careers all deny killing me. Don't check my pulse, don't check my pulse!

"So, who killed her then?" Marvel asks.

"Does it matter?" Clove asks. "She's dead, you can see the thick blood, idiot."

"Maybe an Outlier did it. It's not like we're the only ones who are capable of killing. We're just far better at it," Cato adds. Yeah, only because you train and essentially play the Games holding the hand of the big brother Capitol.

"I guess so," Marvel says.

I have to fight hard to not let out a small relieved sigh as he walks away from me. That was so close. I wonder how my District feels, seeing me in serious danger, and yet so far undetected in plain sight. Are they rooting for me, or perhaps more focused on Wood? Or is he dead, several meters from me? I have no idea.

But… actually, I do have an idea. A plan for what comes next. Am I spoiled? Yes. But, are the Careers spoiled? Oh yes. Once they leave to hunt, and I get the chance to get up and move around perhaps I could get the best gear from their piles and steal a bunch of it… and then get rid of the rest of it. I saw a lake from where I stood on my pedestal. Sounds like a simply splendid dumping ground for their swords, spears and other things I cannot use very well and also would rather they didn't use either. It's the perfect crime. All it requires is a little patience.

"Guys, guys!" Marvel says, very suddenly. "Look! Look over there!"

For a brief moment of terror I think he means me, but nobody is rushing to me. In fact, I hear the Careers moving the other way. What's going on?

"What's wrong Loverboy?" Glimmer asks smugly. "Lost? Giving up?"

Wait… Loverboy?

"Actually, I'm here because I want to work with you guys," says a voice.

Hey, that's Peeta! Working with the Careers though… no, they never let anybody from District Twelve in their group. I'm trying to brace myself for more screams and splatter sounds. Any moment now, another murder is going to happen mere meters away from me. A tenth cannon and, if I'm not careful, possibly an eleventh too.

As I expected, the Careers laugh. They laugh loud and brutish, and do so for quite some time. It feels like a long time, but maybe closer to a few seconds. Either way, I don't hear any signs of Peeta running away. He's either incredibly brave, or very foolish. But then, I'm probably a fool for running into the fray, aren't I?

"Oh whoa, that's a great offer," I hear Marvel say sarcastically. "How about instead I drive this spear into your throat?"

"Get in line. I wanna see how far Loverboy can run before I nail him with an arrow," Glimmer adds.

"Stabby-stabby," I hear Clove saying, suddenly very eager and gleeful.

"What they said," Cato states with another laugh. "What makes you think we'd want you in our group? What could you possibly offer us?"

"Well for starters I scored an eight. So did Glimmer," Peeta says, still calm.

"So did that curly haired kid from Four, but if we track him down we're not letting him join us," Cato says coldly.

"But unlike him, I'm strong. You saw me throw that large weighted ball," Peeta says, remaining firm.

"Maybe so. You're strong, I'll give you that much," Cato admits. "But maybe we'd rather just kill a threat instead of you?"

"You sure you want to do that?" Peeta asks.

Run you fool, run! What is keeping him there? Fear, pride or suicidal plans? To be frank, it's amazing he's even been allowed to talk for this long. I don't know what his game is here, but it's one that isn't going to let him leave as the Victor. Cato's a brute, challenging him through words isn't a great idea. But then, if they found me that would be my only option too, I guess… besides running away. I'm not exactly superior.

"Why shouldn't we kill you?" Cato asks, sounding amused.

"Yeah, give us one good reason," Clove adds, "And being good looking won't save your life."

"It helps though," Glimmer adds with a giggle. "Hunk of bread, right here."

Eh, Ranger's hotter. Wait… what am I doing?! This isn't the time to think of such things! I need to listen and see how this plays out. Will this effect my own survival, or not?

"Because I have got valuable information that you need," Peeta replies. I think I heard a bit of fear in his voice, but it's hard to tell for sure. "If you want to hunt for threats, I'm not the main one out there."

"Then who is?" Marvel asks.

"Katniss," Peeta says simply. "You keep me alive and give me at least some access to food and water, and I'll lead you right to her. I know her… maybe not personally, but I know how she thinks and acts back home. If anybody is gonna be able to get you to the girl who outscored all of you, it's me. Kill me, and she's gonna be far away, living off the land… all the while, you guys start to run low on supplies. What if a Mutt gets at the supplies and you have to search for her while you're all hungry? You know it's not impossible."

There is a silence. Either the Careers are thinking this offer over, or thinking of the best way to kill Peeta. As for me, I'm affronted! I thought he loved Katniss. His interview made that quite clear. I know that there is only one Victor and one way or the other their possible love is doomed, but to sell her out this fast in spite of loving her? For shame, Peeta Mellark!

"Wait, what about all that stuff in your interview about loving her?" Clove asks, sounding skeptical.

"Yeah, explain that," Glimmer demands.

"You guys actually believed that?" Peeta scoffs. "Sure, she's pretty and I guess I don't exactly mind the idea of being with her, but this is the Arena now. Only one gets out, and I'm not putting her over me. ...I just wanted some extra sponsors, same as anybody else."

I assume the Careers are too shocked to reply. If I were not trying to remain still, I'd slap him! That's cold Peeta, cold. Selling out your District partner with some fake love. It's slimy, and I never did enjoy any of the slimy things in life. Ick. But his plan, however low it may be, has merit. For him at least. Not that it will matter if the Careers decide to not take it.

"Say we let you join us, how would you find her?" Cato asks. "I'd rather know we're not giving you small amounts of food and water for no benefit to ourselves."

"I saw the direction she ran to," Peeta says. "I know the kinds of snares and traps she sets up, and how to avoid them. I know how she attempts to hide her tracks, and the sorts of areas of a forest she'd probably hang around. Basically, I know information about her you'd never be able to get otherwise and if you kill me, that knowledge dies with me. You'd be a step closer to Victory, but you may come to regret it… and you know the Games, either you win or you pay the ultimate price for losing."

I hear the Careers whispering quietly to each other, but I can't quite hear what it is that they are saying. But it can only end two ways. A Career pack of five instead of four, or fifteen Tributes becomes fourteen. One very bad for my odds… and one brutal, but in the long run a possible help for me and my life.

Peeta's dead, I just know it. I guess that's what happens when you try to make a deal with trained killers and sell out your District Partner.

"...Ok, fine," Cato says. "But for the record, I do not trust you and you'll be watched at all times. Marvel, pack him some stuff into a backpack. Loverboy, grab a weapon. Not a sword though. Those are mine."

Well, that'll teach me for assuming something. Somehow Peeta has pulled it off. With five members, this pack has just gotten even more dangerous.

"You won't regret it," Peeta says, sounding rather relieved. "Can I use a spear?"

"Sure," Cato says.

"A knife?" he asks hopefully.

"Get the fuck away from my knives!" Clove hisses.

Fifteen more minutes pass until finally, finally the Career pack are all suited up and ready to get going. I can feel a slight chill, so I guess the sun must be setting by now. I've never spent a single night in the cold in my entire life. I'm used to a mattress, blankets, soft pillows and a teddy. Better get used to roughing it, and fast. I may be nervous of the idea of a night in the forest, but the Careers sound nothing short of delighted at the concept.

"Ok, let's move out," Cato says. "We'll be back by sunrise. Maybe a little earlier. For glory!"

"For glory!" the rest of the Careers echo.

"What if somebody steals from us?" Peeta asks. "It's all here, out in the open."

"The wouldn't dare," Cato says, darkly.

"It's just gonna be a few hours and the rest of the fodder are long gone. If anybody did come by, it'd take a while and we could catch them in the act," Glimmer says, shrugging.

"Plus, if a few apples or something go missing it's not a big deal when we have better training, weapons and sponsors anyway," Marvel states. "Does anybody want to say as a guard?"

A chorus of negative replies fill the air.

"That settles that," Cato says. "Like I said, none of those vermin would dare steal from us. If they do, we'd find out and then..."

I hear a swish sound. Cato must have swung his sword to make a point.

"Well, you know what I mean," Cato says coldly.

"I sure do," Peeta says, sounding uneasy. "Ok, Katniss went that way. Right there."

"Then that's where we'll go," Cato says.

With battle cries, the Careers and Peeta all leave the area, charging away at speed. Whoever they find, I hope they get a quick, clean death. I've seen how the Careers love to draw it out some years. It's sickening, and shameful… it's what the Capitol audience wants, and so it's what they get.

But Cato was wrong about one thing. He said nobody would dare steal from them. The issue there is… I'm gonna rob them dry. Everything I want to have is mine, and anything I don't want them to have is going in the lake. When the faces of the dead are in the sky tonight, I wonder how they will react when my face is not up there and they suddenly realise I faked death and have no doubt helped myself to their best stuff.

The clearing is silent, and both the shouts and the footsteps of the Pack are out of my hearing range. Now, the opening Bloodbath has truly come to an end and the danger has passed, for now.

I'm alone.

Shaking a little, I rise up my feet. I stumble a bit, my legs fairly numb from lying still so long, but soon I find my balance. Wearily I lean against the side of the Cornucopia, taking a few weary breaths.

"I do declare that was scary as shit," I manage to say. "My heart can't take much more of this, and it's not even been one full day."

I shake my head. I have to get a grip. But first, get supplies and get out of here before anybody comes back, be they the Careers or any other Tribute. I have time now, and I can't waste a second.

"Gross," I gag, grabbing a rag on the ground to wipe the blood off of my neck and all the leftover puke off of my face. "So gross. Ok, time to..."

...

...Oh damn.

I feel sick. A little light headed too.

This is a mess, this is wrong…

I stand here alive, but looking around there are nine dead and bloody bodies that cannot say the same. Nine more innocent citizens of Panem taken away by the Capitol for nothing they ever did wrong. It's like standing in a war zone, or a butcher shop. Maybe like something out of the Dark Days. I can't stop myself just slowly walking around, unable to keep my wide eyes off of the bodies laying sprawled around the clearing.

The Boy from Five lays slumped down on his back, his eyes closed and his shirt soaked with blood from a nasty stab.

The Girl from Ten lays flat on her front beside a spear rack, an axe embedded in her skull. I can't stop the sick shiver I feel.

The Boy from Eight lays near the pedestals on his back, his head leaning to one side. Blood is on his chest and his neck. So much of it.

The Girl from Six is crumpled on her side, looking like she has bathed in blood. Her gut area is caked in the stuff. Why is there so much blood?! ...The Bloodbath. Right. The name is fitting.

The Boy from Nine lays face down a distance away, a throwing knife deep in his back, and his eyes stare onwards at nothing. I'm shaking… this must have been Clove's work.

Just a few feet from me lies that huge guy from Eleven… Thresh, was it? Yes, I am sure that was his name. It looks like sword wound has been slashed across his entire gut. Oooo… nasty. And his throat is cut too. Maybe that was the extra hit Clove gave him when I was faking death. Thresh turned them down and paid the price. ...Wait a second… he might have been the one who tripped over me! He died because of me, didn't me?

"Stop thinking that. Stop it," I tell myself, gripping my braids.

Beyond Thresh lays the Girl from Four. The one who bumped into me at the start. Last I saw her she was clutching her ankle in pain, but now she lays on her side still as a statue. A massive blow has been given to her neck and her head seems to be half severed.

I'm starting to feel more than sick now. I'm repulsed, ready to scream! And so, I do. I scream in sheer horror as I fall back onto my butt with a thump. I'm heaving deep, choked breaths as I scoot my way backwards from the dead Girl of the Fishing District. Weary and gasping, I rise again and turn around.

I gag, backing away from the sight of the Girl from Nine slumped over some crates, a knife deep in her chest and her sightless eyes staring at me. I raise my hands in front of me as I walk backwards.

"Gotta get outta here," I mutter. I can't focus, I can't think.

I run to the Cornucopia and screech to a halt. I can see Jason laying on the ground, butchered. He's bruised, has a bump on his head and his torso is covered in scythe wounds. My once possible ally is a sorry sight indeed, and I look away, shivering. He didn't deserve that.

That's nine corpses. Nine dead kids who deserved better. But, nothing can be done for them now. Nothing except their remains being put into a casket and sent back to their homes. I can't even begin to imagine the grief their families must feel. I've never had to feel such kinds of pain, being well off and lacking siblings to be sent into the Games, or any friend who got reaped.

"...Hovercraft is gonna want to come in," I choke out to myself.

Quickly, I'm sprinting away from the Cornucopia as fast as my legs can carry me. Trembling I sink to the base of a tree, taking deep breaths. Looking up to the sky I see the orange sky. A truly beautiful sunset, not that it makes this situation any less ugly. A few seconds pass by before a hovercraft descends from above.

It's hard not to scowl towards the hovercraft. All kinds of medical equipment, food and all such comforts are no doubt on board. What a laugh those foul men and women must be having at us suffering kids right now. I guess I'm not a kid, true, but I've never felt more small and helpless than I do now.

Even if I do survive this forest, and go home to one day be a Mayor, could I change anything? Dad once called it a puppet position. But, he never told me all the nuances of the job, not yet. Could there maybe be something I could do?

...Why am I thinking about all this stuff, anyway? It's irrelevant to my current problem. Well, maybe it's better to think of thoughts that give me some form of escape than to face the fact the hovercraft has extended it's claw to pick up the corpses.

Twenty minutes pass by with me just sitting here, wide eyed and shaking as I watch the dead tributes get taken out of the Arena and into the Hovercraft one by one. Eventually though, Jason's corpse is the last one taken away and the Hovercraft once again ascends up to the sky, out of reach and out of sight.

Once again, the clearing is silent. Truly, I'm all alone.

If I'm gonna start grabbing supplies and starting the plan to get rid of what the Careers need most, then now would be the time to get on with it. So, I rise to my feet and make my way back over to the Cornucopia. It's not hard to find a large backpack to suit my needs. It's empty, but now that nobody else is nearby that won't be any issue.

Luckily for me, the Careers sorted everything into different piles. Weapons in one, food and water in another, sleeping bags and blankets in that one off to the side and so on. It makes it easy for me to grab everything that I'm going to need.

Perhaps too easy. I'm so used to being able to have whatever I need that I'm soon out of space in the backpack and cannot fit anything more inside it. But, I've not even gotten around to putting in a blanket or a medical kit yet. I never did know how to pack lightly. Mainly as I've not really been anywhere. Ok, time to start this again…

(A bit of time passes…)

Ok, that took longer than it truly had to. Especially as the sun has almost set on the horizon now, so I'm gonna have to navigate the woods in the dark now. Lucky for me, I've got night vision glasses. I guess the Careers only took one pair of them. Certainly better than a flashlight as they won't give away my position, and for now at least hiding out of sight is my best chance.

I sling on the weighty backpack and grip my hatchet tightly. Nothing more to do here now that so much of the Careers' best supplies have been tossed away into the lake, out of their reach. So, now I simply have to pick a direction to go in.

Certainly not that way over there, that's where the Careers went off to, and I'd prefer to delay any encounter with them for as long as I possibly can. But, it's not just them in this Arena and I've not got any idea where the rest of the Tributes who are still alive may have ran off to. Some, I prefer my chances with over others, but it's not like I know where the weaker ones sped off to when they had the chance.

With a shrug, I settle on moving off towards the south. It's not where the Careers went, and for now that will be good enough for me.

"Ok, first goal, find shelter. Second goal..." I trail off, suddenly afraid.

I'm not alone.

I can see two other Tributes at the edge of the clearing, starting to move towards the pedestals. One looks pretty short, and the other rather tall. I can't exactly tell who they are from over there, but I can tell that, at least, Wood is neither of them. That means zero District loyalty, zero reason to show mercy.

I'm outta here!

Without another glance at the duo, I turn on my heel and sprint off in the opposite direction as fast as my legs can carry me. I don't dare look back to see if they have decided to follow me, I just run and run and run.

It would seem, with the Cornucopia behind me and how I am getting deeper into the dark woods ever second that passes, the 'adventure' has truly begun.

(Time passes…)

I breath in, and out. I can see my breath in the night air, it's that chilly. It's really dark, as can be expected, but thankfully I can still find my way thanks to my night vision glasses. Tired as I may be, stumbling along as I wearily hold my hatchet, I'm at least confident I won't be snuck up on by anybody… or, anything. Mutts don't appear on the first day, that's what I've heard, so for tonight only it's one less worry.

But I do have one worry to think about, and that's that I haven't found any adequate shelter. I've been looking for a while for something good such as a cave, or a den under a big tree or… oh, I don't know, somewhere the Careers cannot find me. No such luck. Just an endless expanse of trees, and I don't trust myself with sleeping in them in case I fall out and break my neck. A common enough story in the Games, and it has happened back home in Seven as well. You'd think with what my District number is people would be a touch luckier, hm?

It seems I've reached my limit though. My legs aching nonstop and my throat dry, I drop to my knees and swiftly flop upon my side. I'm silent for a few moments, just laying here in exhaustion. But eventually, I prop myself up on my elbow to try and work out where 'here' is, exactly.

I'm laying upon a grassy hill, and in all directions beyond the moonlit hilltop are trees. Thick, massive trees that tower so very high. I feel vulnerable, not just being out in the open, but also with how… being short as I am, the trees seem even bigger. It's intimidating.

But, when the going gets tough I gotta get going, right? I survived day one, the day where the most Tributes always die… if I can do this, then maybe I do have a chance. I just need to be careful, willing to get my hands – and probably my entire body, and soul – dirty and be cautious with who I trust.

Soon, I drink some water and eat some of the dried fruit and meat I gathered. Not wrinkle my nose a bit, not really used to the common and bitter taste of it all, but I'll have to adapt. I shan't be getting anything better unless I get a sponsor. Of course, to get sponsors I need to actually do things. Johanna never gave me any advice, but perhaps I can learn by example. And, thinking about it, that gives me an idea.

"Just a thought," I say, knowing a camera will hear me. "I have a man in my life back home. His name is Ranger. He's… everything to me. Unlike that bad boy Peeta, this is true… it

is how I feel in my heart. If you sponsor me, then you keep a young couple, joined my true love, alive. I'd be grateful."

A few moments pass. Nothing. No parachutes coming down to me. I guess I'll have to work hard to earn it, to earn the right to be given a chance to live. Well fine, I can handle it. I'll show Johanna, and I'll show her hard come the morning.

But for now, I need sleep. So, I drag myself over to where the grass is longest. Not much, but it might give me just a bit of extra cover. I yawn, starting to settle myself down. Already, I can feel the dreams overtaking me.

Or, at least that would be the case if not for the fact the Anthem has begun. Yawning, I look up to the sky. I know who I'll be seeing, but I may as well look anyway. It's all about showing some respect to the dead. None of the Panem citizens who died in that clearing today deserved it at all. Not a single one of them.

After the Capitol Seal is gone, I see the image of the Girl from Four. I don't meet the gaze of her portrait… fact is, her being dead removes a big worry of mine. That worry being her possibly killing me with a serrated sword.

The Boy from Five then appears. Much like his District Partner he appeared to be clever and logical… but, also, I kind of got the sense of some sort of mischief in his eyes at times. Especially when he was training with making fires. Hmmm…

I feel a small tear in my eye when Jason is shown next. I knew him only briefly, but we hit it off pretty well. I could've counted on him, and when the chips were down he could have counted on me too. But, he's dead and now it's all up to me to avoid the same fate. Poor guy.

The Girl from Six is next. I never spoke to her, but Jason did of course. He said her name was Tamora, and that she was pretty unpleasant and cruel. I'm not sure how true it was or was not, but what I am sure of is the word to describer her now is dead.

Next, the Boy from Eight. I found it very suspect he had joint highest odds to win alongside Cato despite being younger and from Eight, the Textile District. Part of me wonders if cheating of some sort was involved. Guess it's irrelevant now.

Continuing to look up, I see the portrait of the Boy from Nine looking back at me. A tricky and smart kind of guy, he was. I've had a pampered and spoiled life, and I got the sense he was very much my opposite. I did overhear him outright claim to the Girl from Five that he's a 'master thief', after all. Can't say I mind if he stole from the Capitol.

Portrait number seven is the Girl from Nine. That's two Districts eliminated already… I'm not sure what it was about this girl, but she seemed… I don't know how to word it. Just, she seemed so minor and blended in, but that look in her eyes, it made me wonder if she was hiding something. Most of us were scared of the Careers, myself included, but that girl never showed any fear at all. But, no sense overthinking it now that she's dead.

The portrait of the Girl from Ten looks down at me. Guess it was likely to happen with her being so sensitive, and aversive to fighting. Makes me wonder, honestly, why she didn't flee as soon as the Games began. I wonder…

I can't help looking away when Thresh is the last one shown in the sky. He's dead mainly because of me, even if indirectly. After all, he tripped over me and had I not been lying there, well, who knows? Considering how big he was and how tiny I am, maybe it's for the best regarding my own life, harsh as that might be to say. Rest in peace.

The Anthem comes to an end, and once again all is quiet and dark. I've survived day one. But now, I'll need to some sleep. I'm so exhausted.

But, as I lay down and try to get myself comfy in any way possible, I think over everything I know right now. All the scraps of information that might help me.

Fifteen of us are still alive.

Peeta has joined the Careers and says he was faking his love to Katniss. Hrrrrrm…

There was that pair of Tributes I saw at the Cornucopia, so maybe another alliance has formed.

…

The Careers will now be aware of the fact I am still alive, and they might be running back to the Cornucopia right now.

I shiver, scared at the mere thought of them.

END OF DAY 1…

REMAINING TRIBUTES

Marvel (District 1 Male)

Glimmer (District 1 Female)

Cato (District 2 Male)

Clove (District 2 Female)

Weldar (District 3 Male)

Gadget (District 3 Female)

Urchin (District 4 Male)

Cinder (District 5 Female)

Wood (District 7 Male)

Nettle (District 7 Female)

Lacey (District 8 Female)

Rammy (District 10 Male)

Rue (District 11 Female)

Peeta (District 12 Male)

Katniss (District 12 Female)

THE FALLEN

16th- Jason (District 6 Male) – Slashed several times in the stomach with a scythe, by Cato.

17th- Sparky (District 5 Male) – Speared in the gut with a spear and then stabbed in the chest with a knife, by Wood.

18th- Sickle (District 9 Female) – Stabbed in the chest with a knife, by Glimmer.

19th- Thresh (District 11 Male) – Disembowelled with a machete, by Cato.

20th- Marina (District 4 Female) - Struck in the neck with an axe by Weldar.

21st- Miller (District 9 Female) – Knife thrown into back, by Clove.

22nd- Tamora (District 6 Female) – Stabbed repeatedly in the gut, by Glimmer.

23rd- Sable (District 10 Female) – Stuck in the skull with an axe, by Cato.

24th- Callico (District 8 Male) – Stabbed with a kukri, by Marvel.

TRIBUTE NOTES

Another timeline means another point of divergence! And as a consequence to Nettle faking death in front of the Cornucopia, the following things have been changed. Boom, butterfly effect!

Gadget survives for the following reasons: Nettle, in her panic, crashed into Marina. Thus, Gadget was able to grab a backpack and flee before Marina could slash her leg with a sword and therefore Sparky never got the chance to finish her off.

Urchin survives for the following reasons: When Thresh tripped over Nettle as she faked death he took the chance to make a run for it. Between the scrawny kid and the huge guy, Cato decided to kill the latter first out of pragmatism and with the other Careers distracted elsewhere Urchin reached the forest.

Marina dies for the following reasons: She was knocked to the ground and, with Nettle faking death and not grabbing supplies, Weldar grabbed an axe without any opposition and took the chance to kill off a stronger tribute.

Wood survives for the following reasons: With Thresh tripping over Nettle as she lay on the ground, he never got the chance to kill Wood. Additionally, Wood also didn't confront him right away due to the trip. Seeing Cato kill Thresh makes Wood do the smart thing and flee.

Thresh dies for the following reasons: Nettle faked death on the ground in front of the Cornucopia, and he tripped over her as he dashed out of the silver horn. Pulling a muscle as he falls over, he is unable to get back up and keep fighting before Cato moves in for the kill.

The timelines has been altered. The path of canon has been forever averted… where will this new timeline lead us? Stay tuned to find out!