The daisy chain she wore, Around her neck the day she kissed me. That was my choice.

I wore it in my hair, Dried white petals clinging to ebony waves.

If I am to die, Let it be for her.

When I close my eyes, I feel her lips on the breeze, The scent of dried petals close, Her arms wrapped around me.

Run.

“Why the fuck did you choose a HAIRBRUSH?!” “Well, I figured I’m probably going to die. I might as well look good when I do.”

(Imagine it finishes and stuff)

Nellie brought a nutcracker with her. A small wooden one that was painted by her grandmother years before she was born. It was small enough to fit in her pocket if she wanted to. Whenever she looked at it she felt so peaceful and happy thinking of things that had once been and will be again. How she’ll eventually make it out of this game alive.

I was sitting in the chair of the interview room. The crowd is cheering my name as I am from district 3. As I sit I notice a table in room. Something new I thought to myself to make the games more interesting. After I sit I see the interviewer. Zach Flicker. “Hello miss, we’re going to start off with a few questions but first if you had to choose an item that is not leathal to bring into the games what would you choose?” “ What an odd question Zach, but I think I would choose…a pen.” Everyone gasped when I said that. A pen! I guess they couldn’t comprehend the audacity of that. But right after I said a official came and handed me a pen. I was a nice pen with gold engravings and it reminded me of home. I started to cry but I held in my tears to make it look like I am strong. “Why a pen?” Zach asked me with a confused look. But just chuckled. “That is my secret Zach, it’s supposed to keep people guessing what is my move.” I chose it so I could hide poison and will be able to stab someone. “Intriguing…well good luck in the games.”

Being a part of the Humger Games this year is both an honor and quite freaky, young Julian thought to himself. But I must choose my one item to help me throughout the games. Could it be something I can easily kill with? Or maybe a healings item to help others and gain some friends…maybe. OR he thought to himself, my magic necklace of charisma he received when he was younger. It has helped him get out of trouble when he was younger. Everyone seemed to like him whenever he used it. Yes! That is it. It will help me gain favor with not only the other contestants but also from those with power and money watching these games.

I stared into the face of the confused interviewer and repeated my earlier response into the microphone she was tilting towards my lips. “Yeah. I brought a dildo into the Hunger Games,” I wiped my mouth with my arm and looked down to see my arm now streaked with blood. I shrugged and continued.
“I figured it’s every man for himself. Everyone wants to fuck you, I’m going to fuck myself.” I grabbed a bottle of water from a cooler to my right, said I was finished answering questions with my eyes, and limped through the clamoring crowd.

He looks surprised, and maybe exasperated. I couldn’t blame him though, how else are you supposed to react when, while stuck in a giant arena with bloodthirsty teens, your ally sits down and pulls out a Language book?

“Really?” He dead-panned at me, “you brought a _Spanish school book _to the Hunger Games?”

I frowned, and argued back. “Listen, I know its weird. But I’m not gonna lose my streak just because a buncha kids my age want to kill me. Besides, we could talk more without the cameras knowing!”

He did not find this amusing. Sad.

“You are the single most indescribable person I have ever known.” He groaned, and sat down next to me. Looking over my shoulder before wrinkling his nose. The nerve of him!

“If you want to keep your streak,” He said accusingly, “why didn’t you bring a phone of all things? Duolingo exists.”

In a fluid and silent motion, I closed the book and turned to face him. With the most blank expression I could have as I calmly say.

“They said non-lethal.”

That shut him up quick.

“…and may the odds be ever in your favor.” I heard Effie Trinket announce before diving her hand into the giant bowl of names in the bowl of boys names for district ten. “Fitzroy Vacker” she called out. I watched as a young, handsome boy, probably around sixteen years old with dark brown hair and teal eyes triumphantly walk up to the stage, and stand behind Effie. “And for the girls… Scarlett Dragona” I gasped in shock as my name was called out for everyone to hear. I slowly walked up the stage and stood next to Fitz as Effie allowed everyone to leave the reaping area, well, Everyone except the chosen ones, I guess she needs to talk to us about… I dont know, this hasn’t exactly happened to anyone I know before. She turned to face us, her lips pursed in the shape of a heart. “I feel so terribly bad for you two. But alas, this happens every year. Each of you get to bring a non-lethal item to remind you of home because… well, I don’t mean to be rude, but it is most likely the last time you will see your family.” She explained, to us. She guided us inside the town building, where we’d see our families one last time before heading to the capitol to train for the games in one month. My father and sister, Eva, came in to see me. Eva brought me a pen. I was confused at first, but then I recognized it to be our families most prized possession. Riptide. When you clicked the top to use the pen, a sword would come out instead. It was the perfect disguise for a personal item. I laughed, my eyes watering a little bit, hugging her and my father. A few minutes later Eddie came into the room saying it was time to head to the train. I said my final goodbyes to my family before walking out with her. Trying to silently thank my sister one last time for possibly giving me the item that will help me win the games.

It’s here. It feels like I’ve been waiting for an eternity. I don’t know if I’ll ever see my family again, ever. In the Hunger Games, there can only be one winner. I was dreading it since first grade. We learned that twenty-four of us would be selected to compete, and die in the most gruesome ways imaginable. But this year, they are allowing you take one item with you-and it’s not allowed to be lethal. I’m taking my pet greyhound, Sleekpelt. Well, he isn’t real, he’s just a toy, but I still remember the sheer joy of getting him on Christmas Eve.

We’re lining up to be selected-I don’t think I’ll ever see my mum again, or my dad. I hoped I’m not selected. I was practically praying to god now. “-and Anna, will be selected to compete!” Boomed the commentator. And there I was, fighting for my life, with Sleekpelt, my toy greyhound. Sleekpelt gave me the energy to keep going, _to keep pushing. _ __ Ive done it. Ive won.

There’s not one single person in the world who does not know of the Hunger Games. The first lesson every child is taught is to keep your head down and pray you don’t get picked.

But no matter how low you duck your head or how much of a good citizen you are, your chances are still 50/50.

Well, I just so happen to be that one lucky girl who gets picked to be shipped away to be slaughtered. Surprisingly, they allowed us to take one item with us.

Has it happened before? No.

Do I care? No.

And the first item I quickly got my hands on was a book.

It was old and and one page turn close to collapsing, but this thing has kept my sanity intact the last fifteen years Ive been on this Earth.

The book, The Boy Who Crossed The World, was a heartfelt adventure about a boy trying to go back home to his mother. Not exactly helpful, I know. But here’s the thing about books: they paint pictures and send deep messages, but they are also incredibly boring. One person who shows no interest with the arts of literature - which is by the way many - won’t be concerned about black ink on white paper. Even when that ink describes, in detail, how to survive in barren deserts to the arctic chill of the north.

Will it guarantee my survival? Probably not. But at this point, I got no options